I laughed. A knock, no, a pounding at the door made me frown. “I’m sorry, Ava, I’ve got to go. Someone’s at the door,” I said, standing. “And I just wanted you to know, you’re a wonderful mother too. Alice was lucky to have you. And Lexie and I are more than lucky,” I told her softly. “Love you,” I added, knowing Ava didn’t do well talking about Alice.
“Love you, beautiful. Send my love to my Sunshine,” she said with a shaky voice.
I still had my phone at my ear when I answered the door; a furious looking Zane stood in it. His face changed as soon as he got a look at me.
“Babe?” He stepped forward and clutched my hips. His hand wiped a stray tear from the side of my eye. “What the fuck?” he asked with concern. Well, his version of concern.
“Nothing, I’m fine,” I reassured him. “It’s nothing,” I repeated.
Zane frowned. “Nothing does not equal tears.”
“Tear, singular—not plural,” I clarified.
Zane gritted his teeth, directing me to the sofa.
I threw up my arms. “Can a mom not get a bit emotional when her only daughter embarks on her first date?” I asked, only half lying. No way was I taking him on a trip down my memory lane. That was a place closed for good.
Zane’s glare returned. “Got to talk about that shit, Mia,” he bit out.
I straightened. “What shit?”
Zane looked at me. “Lexie going on a date with that little fucker,” he said roughly.
“I thought he was a friend of the club?” I said, confused and slightly worried Zane seemed so mad. Maybe I had judged Killian right on first glance. I restrained the urge to hop in my car and follow them.
“He was,” Zane said tightly. “Until he went on a fuckin’ date with Lexie,” he finished.
I relaxed. His fury was not due to the fact Killian was a troublemaker but out of protectiveness to my kid. A warm feeling spread through me.
I cupped his cheek. “He’s a kid, they’re on a date. He’s not whisking her off to elope in Vegas,” I joked.
Zane’s glare intensified. “She’s fuckin’ sixteen. Too young for that shit,” he argued.
I raised an eyebrow. “I’d had Lexie by the time I was sixteen,” I told him.
His face hardened. “Exactly.”
“What do you suggest I do, Zane? Look her up in a windowless tower until she is of the marrying age? Then sell her for five goats?” I asked sarcastically.
Zane grabbed my chin. He searched my face. “I’ll kill the little shit if he hurts her,” he finally said.
“Already threatened the whole murder thing—we’re good,” I patted his arm.
“You threatened to murder a teenager?” Zane said with surprise and respect.
“He was taking my daughter out on a date. It was my duty to at least threaten bodily dismemberment,” I deadpanned.
Zane looked at me a moment longer, then a shadow of a grin tickled the side of his face. I stared in amazement, but I didn’t have time to properly appreciate it as he pulled me in for a kiss. Then he deepened it and decided to fuck me on the sofa. I wasn’t complaining.
We were lying on the sofa dressed again, because I didn’t want Lexie coming home early from her date to me naked in the living room . Some things you just couldn’t unsee. I traced the patch on Zane’s cut which said Enforcer. I didn’t know exactly what it meant, but I knew it meant he wasn’t crunching numbers for the club.
“Tell me about the club,” I asked quietly.
Zane jerked slightly. He was quiet for a while. “What do you want to know?” he said finally, his voice guarded. I glanced up at him; his face was blank.
I had a multitude of questions. “I,” I began, unsure of where one started asking their boyfriend about his potential outlaw motorcycle club. “Are you in danger?” I asked, needing to know whether said club would be a reason I lost him. I blanched at the thought.
He stroked my face. “Babe, it’s dangerous riding my bike down the street. That’s life. Ain’t livin’ if you do it scared,” he answered
I chewed my lip. “So that’s a yes, you are in danger,” I surmised. “Does that mean the club breaks the law?” I asked quietly.
Zane paused. “Not gonna lie, babe. Club used to be into shady shit,” He continued. “Last coupla years things have gotten on the right side of the law.”
I raised a speculative eyebrow.
“We ain’t ever gonna be society’s version of law abiding citizens. We are going to significantly lower the risk of entering a state run facility or meeting the reaper bloody,” he told me with honesty that made me sick.
I swallowed. “Meet the reaper bloody,” I repeated. “People have died?” I asked weakly.
Zane’s face turned shuttered, tortured even. His eyes were full of something I couldn’t place. Sorrow. Regret. “Long time ago,” he muttered finally. “Club’s outta that shit now. Promise you that.” His voice was husky, full of pain.
I wanted to ask him who had died. It was obviously someone important. Or multiple someones, but he already seemed on the verge of shutting down and I didn’t want to push it. Rosie’s words about sorrow and guilt reverberated in my mind.
“So me and Lexie having a connection to the club—to you—we’re not in danger?” I clarified, needing to know my daughter wouldn’t become collateral damage.
Zane’s grip tightened on my chin and he fastened it so my face met his. His eyes seemed to glitter. “You think I would let anything happen to you or Lexie?” he growled. “Think I would let you in my life if there was a possibility of you getting a hair on your beautiful head ruffled?” he continued with ferocity.
I shook my head slowly. I knew he would protect us. But I didn’t want to have a lifestyle that needed protecting. But unfortunately, I already did. With or without a motorcycle club, there would always be a shadow that haunted my dreams.
We were silent for a long while and I traced the patch on his cut again. “Enforcer,” I read quietly. “That mean what I think it means?”