He scrubs a hand down his face. “I did, but that’s not all I’m referring to. I killed the president of the Wild Men MC. Did you know that? You want to be with someone like that? I have blood on my hands, Anna, and it never goes away.”
I knew he killed someone. I also knew there had to be more to the story. Maybe it was a club war? Turf war? Something, I don’t know what. I knew Arrow was loyal to his club. I couldn’t hold it against him. Rake was the same.
“Arrow—”
“It’s not just that. I don’t have anything to give a good woman like you, Anna. And I don’t like feeling guilty because I want to fuck someone, seeing those wide green eyes staring up at me with hurt in them.”
I suddenly feel a mixture of anger and embarrassment. I can’t believe he called me out on that—and to think I thought I was doing well schooling my expressions. “I didn’t ask you for anything, Arrow.”
He dips his head. “You didn’t have to. You say it all in those eyes.”
“What if I just wanted sex?” I whisper, my cheeks flushing.
“You want your brother to kill me?” he says in a low, husky tone. “No, you know what? You would be worth that. But you still deserve better, Anna, and I’m going to try and do the right thing here.”
Ahhh, yes. My brother. I forgot about that.
“I won’t see you hurt because of me. Violence and pain follow me. I don’t want them to touch you, do you understand?”
“Fine,” I say after a few seconds. “This conversation never happened. Don’t let my wide green eyes stop you from whatever you want to do next time, okay?”
I walk away from him then, but before he starts his engine I’m almost sure I hear him say, “Trust me, I’m trying.”
* * *
By November—two months later—I’d settled into a routine in my doctoral program and had done my best to put Arrow out of my mind. After spending a long day doing observations at the zoo, I take a hot shower and put on my pajamas. I told my brother I would cook him dinner tonight, the one meal our mother used to make us whenever she was sober, which wasn’t very often. I’m glad to be able to spend some quality time with my big brother. He’s slowly becoming more open with me, as if he now believes I’m not going to up and leave every time he does something I don’t like.
I put on some music as I cook. First I marinate the chicken and put it in the oven, then steam the vegetables and make the mashed potatoes. I grin when Rake knocks at the door—apparently he’s learned his lesson about using that damn key. Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I rush to the front door. I shouldn’t be surprised when I open it and see not only Rake at the door but Tracker and Arrow as well, but I am.
Arrow has stayed away from me for the last month, avoiding me at every opportunity, and Rake never mentioned he was bringing anyone with him. Luckily I decided to cook a lot, thinking I’d enjoy the leftovers tomorrow. If I’d known they were coming over, I’d have invited Lana too.
I step aside so they can enter. Rake grins and kisses me on my forehead, and Tracker does the same. When Arrow steps through the door, I move away and follow behind Tracker. What the hell is he doing here?
“Smells good,” my brother says, grabbing a chair and taking a seat. “Next time I’m bringing Faye. She’d love this.”
Great, just what I need, watching the men fawn over her in my own house.
“Nice pj’s,” Tracker says, smirking at my baby-blue cotton tank top and pants. They have pink unicorns on them with sparkly manes.
“Thanks,” I reply. “Dinner’s still cooking.”
Tracker and Arrow take a seat, and I ignore the heated feel of his gaze on me.
“I had no idea our Anna Bell could cook,” Tracker says to my brother. I raise my eyebrow at “our Anna.”
“I can’t,” I insert. “Not really. I mean, I’ve mastered a couple of dishes and that’s the extent of my talent.”
“Anna used to cook for us when we were kids,” Rake says, glancing at me with a proud look on his face. “If it wasn’t for her we would have eaten bread every day.”
Arrow and Tracker don’t react to his statement, and I wonder just how much they know about our childhood.
“You guys want a beer?” I ask, heading to the fridge before they can reply. I set three beers in front of them, then check on the food while they chat and joke around with one another. When there’s another knock at the door, I have no idea who it could be. Rake gets up to answer it, and when he walks back in with Dex, aka Sin, the MC president, my eyes widen and my mouth drops open. Sin and I don’t really know each other. In fact, a head nod is the extent of our familiarity, which he gives me as he steps into my now extremely cramped kitchen and takes a seat at the table. I grab a beer and slide it over to him without a word. It’s almost like I’m at the bar.
I scan the four men’s faces. “Someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”
Rake is the one to reply. “We want you to move into the clubhouse.”
“Why?” I demand. I look around my little apartment, my own place, my independence. I like it here, and I’m not going anywhere.
“Because it’s safer,” he says gently. “And I’ll feel better knowing that you’re there.”
I clench my teeth together. “And you needed three other men to tell me this?”