Itâs sometime after three in the morning when I finally meet up with my men deep in the woods beyond the maintenance cabin. I walked here alone so I could clear my fucking head.
I was focused before her. I was calculated. Right now, my head is a fucking mental shitshow of her face, her clenching cunt, her voice, and the fire I see in her eyes. The fucking want. She should be dead but the only thing I could think when Kai offered to go after her tonight, was that not one single hair on her head would be touched by anyone but me.
The wedding reception has wound down, although people were still partying in various cabins around the property when I walked by. Ax is gone for the night so weâre short one man. Kai, Robby, Mason, and Flipp have a couple of feet dug out already. Four more to go. Digging doesnât happen quickly by hand. Especially when itâs Georgia clay.
They all stop when they see me approaching. I observe whatâs left of Gator. Heâs laid out on a tarp and all of his missing pieces are scattered around him. Heâs already beginning to stiffen.
âBoss, you got a plan we donât know about? Something you wanna tell us about you and that little sprite?â Kai asks.
âSheâs still alive⦠so, do you have ideas you arenât letting the rest of us in on?â Flipp asks.
Fucking Jake must have told them.
âShe saw it. She has to go,â Robby adds.
âSheâs a rich manâs daughter. A good girl, a liability,â Flipp mutters, his weathered face crumpled into a scowl.
âEnough,â I growl. âSheâs an accessory, yes, but sheâs my accessory. Understand?â
Every single one of them nods in understanding. Brinley is off fucking limits. Only I choose if and when she dies, and until then theyâll treat her with the same respect they do me. The mood shifts as every one of them accepts without further explanation that itâs now their job to protect her. I pick up a shovel thatâs leaning against the maintenance truck bed.
âAnyone have any issues?â I ask.
âNo, boss,â they all mutter.
âThen get back to work. All of you,â I say. I move toward the shallow grave. I try to rationalize not killing her as I work in silence with my men. I donât know what to do with this blinding need to protect her, because Iâve only felt the need to protect one other woman. And that woman died at the hands of my father and this very club.
I should kill Brinley. If I wasnât such a selfish motherfucker, I would.
But I am and itâs too late. Iâm already addicted.
Three hours later, Gator has been committed back to the earth, where the worms can feast on his flesh, or whatâs left of it. I make my way into the cabin and pull my muddy boots off. I take one step and something sharp pierces the bottom of my foot. I silently curse while pulling it out, slicing my finger and thumb in the process, and then look around the room. Glass, all over the floor.
I canât help it, I grin. My little hummingbird has a temper after all. The shards glimmer in the dim light. I put my boots back on. Brinley will be cleaning that up in the morning. Itâs a teachable moment. Temper tantrums have consequences.
Iâm caked in dirt, but I really donât give a fuck. I drop into the chair thatâs sitting across from Brinley as she sleeps soundly, breathing in the scent of her clean skin, but something isnât right. It smells too much like hotel soap mixed with the smoke and cologne of me. I donât like it and it just wonât do. I glance around the room looking for her bag and make my way to it without thought, fishing inside for her perfume. I grab it out of a small floral cosmetic bag and twist the cap off the roll-on bottle. I breathe in the sweet jasmine scent before rolling some onto my thumb, it mixes with my blood and stings, but it feels like a part of her is seeping into me. Making my way back over to the bed, I sit on the edge and gently roll the perfume along her pulse point, and down her collarbone. I bend down and inhale, she makes a little sound, shifting, and starting to wake. I can still smell the hotel soap. Itâs not perfect, but itâs better.
Brinleyâs hands are folded under her pretty face, her mouth is slightly parted, and her onyx hair is splayed everywhere. I simply watch her like this for a time, studying small things about herâthat tiny dimple in her chin, the way her long lashes rest, her pouty lips and how they completely hypnotize me.
I flex my fists and struggle to understand why a strange feeling that I can only relate to peace has quietly surfaced in my cold, lead heart when I touch Brinley. I have no idea how long I just watch her sleep like this, stroking her neck, her jaw. Her eyes flutter open and a tightening in my chest takes hold as her gaze meets mine.
Sheâs too good. Sheâs too pure, and all I want to do is corrupt her.
The moment I bury myself deep within her and claim her, Iâll be altered. Maybe forever. And I know it with every single part of me. But Iâm not very good at denying myself what I want, so time isnât on her side.