“You awake?” Sven asks, shifting my hair out of my face and off my neck and settling his hand on my back.
“No,” I whisper, wishing I wasn’t, since I know that once we leave this bed, I will have to deal with everything going on outside of it, including the fact that Sven and his friends are going up against one of the biggest monsters in Vegas. A monster that put out a hit on him, and succeeded in shooting him in the chest not even a month ago.
“Wish I could let you sleep, baby, but we have some shit to talk about, and I want to make sure you’re good before we walk out of this room,” he says, running his hand down my back and settling it on the curve of my waist.
Lifting my head, I place my chin to his chest and meet his eyes then ask, “What is it?” seeing the worry he’s trying to hide as he scans my face.
“I’m gonna ask you something, and I want you to really think about it before you answer.”
“Okay,” I breathe, a little scared by the tone of his voice and the way his body has gotten tight under mine.
“There is no right or wrong answer, and I swear, baby, no matter my reaction right now, I’m not pissed at you, okay?” he asks as his hand on my hip squeezes gently.
As I try to sit up, his arm holds me closer, keeping me in place, and he jerks his head no. “You stay right here.”
“You’re freaking me out,” I whisper, trying to catch my breath that has suddenly turned choppy.
His face softens and his hand comes up to run along my jaw. “Has Lane ever said anything to you, made you feel uncomfortable in any way?” he asks, and my body stills.
“Don’t,” I whisper, shaking my head and knowing what he’s alluding to.
“Maggie.”
“I would never—”
“I know that, baby,” he cuts me off. “That’s not what I’m after. I need to know if you have ever noticed him acting strangely when you’re around?”
“What’s going on?” I ask, Lane has never made me uncomfortable, but so much has happened over the last few weeks that I wouldn’t notice if he was acting strange.
Rolling us, he settles his body over mine and his hands move to hold my face as he dips his closer. “I’m going on my gut. I have no proof right now, but I think he’s the one who drugged you.”
“You thought it was Eva,” I remind him.
He nods then mutters quietly, “I did, but now I don’t.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I need to find out.”
Licking my lips and studying his jaw, I repeat, “You…you think he drugged me?”
“I do,” he agrees softly, and I look into his eyes and know he’s the one person I can really trust in this whole world, the one person who will never lie to me or lead me astray.
“Why?” I ask again, and his forehead drops to rest against mine as his fingers move along my jaw.
“No idea, baby. Zack said Lane flipped yesterday when we were upstairs. Last night was the first time I saw something in his eyes I didn’t like. Right now, it’s just a feeling, but my gut has never led me in the wrong direction before, so I’m going with it.”
“He’s here,” I say softly, and his face moves away from mine. “I…what am I supposed to do?”
“One: don’t be you.”
“What?” I frown and he smiles.
“You know I love you, but you cannot do anything that will lead him to believe we’re on to him.”
“But—”
“No.” His thumb covers my mouth. “I didn’t tell you this so you would form some ridiculous plan, one I would most likely have to rescue you from. I’m telling you so you’ll keep your eyes open. If you’re in a room with him alone, you make your escape. He corners you, again, find an escape. He says anything, does anything, you tell me or one of the other men in the house immediately. You do not engage him.” He pauses, dropping his face closer, along with his voice. “Ever.”
“I won’t,” I whisper.
“Good,” he whispers back, and my hand timidly moves to the scar on his chest and I run my finger over it, changing the subject.
“I slept through meeting everyone last night.”
“The only ones here when we got here were Kai’s men, Pika, and Aye. Everyone else showed up after I came to bed.”
“Oh,” I mutter, and he smiles then bends lower and runs his lips across mine softly.
“Morgan gets a phone call today,” he tells me, something I mentioned a few days ago, and I’m actually surprised he remembers. I know he and Morgan didn’t get off on the right foot. Plus, her ‘talk’ with him didn’t exactly make her his favorite person.
“She gets released in two weeks,” I mutter, running my hand through his hair. Nothing in life is ever guaranteed, but I have a feeling Morgan staying clean is going to stick. I couldn’t go see her for obvious reasons, but my parents had seen her and said she was looking healthy and happy. She gained weight and was coming to terms with some of the things she had done, and the counselors were helping her get down to the root of the problem while helping her find other ways to cope with her feelings.
It was no surprise to me that the doctors told her what I had told her a million fracking times—that being around Amy is no good for her—and that until she has a better hold on her sobriety, she needed to stay as far away from her as possible. I can’t wait to see her for myself to tell her how proud I am of her.
We had a few phone calls, and when Sven was in the hospital, she wanted to check herself out of rehab to be with me. I felt like I had my sister back, and more so, I felt like I had my family back. My parents, who hate Vegas, stayed with Sven and me the week after he was released from the hospital. They took care of everything while they were with us, from groceries, cooking, and running errands, to dealing with the club when someone needed to be there. I didn’t even ask them for any of it; they just gave it, no questions asked.
“She can stay at the house,” Sven says from above me, pulling me from my thoughts, and my eyes go to him.
Dropping my hand to his shoulder, I feel my face go soft as I ask, “Really?”
His head tilts to the side and he studies me for a second before saying, “Of course. She needs a place to crash. As long as she’s clean, she’s always welcome.”
“Thank you, honey,” I whisper, watching his eyes go soft as I run my hand down his back. “I think her plan is to say with Mom and Dad for awhile. I don’t know if she’ll go back to Vegas.”
“Smart,” he mutters, dropping forward and kissing me once more.
“I’m proud of her,” I tell him, something he knows, and his face goes softer. His thumbs move over my cheeks as he mutters, “You should be.”
“Thank you again for having my back.”
“Always, Maggie,” he whispers, and hearing the sincerity in his tone, I lift up and press my mouth hard to his, needing him to know how much that means to me. By the time we pull away, we’re both breathing heavily, and I know it’s time to get up and face the outside world again, even though I wish we could hide away.
TAKING A SIP of coffee, my eyes take in the room. The house, like the room Sven and I stayed in last night, is beautiful, with high vaulted ceilings, huge picture windows that look out over the desert, and furniture that is not only comfortable, but also well made and gorgeous.