Eternally Blessed (Rebel Kings MC Book 7) by Garrett Leigh

Author:Garrett Leigh [Leigh, Garrett]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fox Love Press
Published: 2024-03-20T18:30:00+00:00

17

LOCKE

“I need you to take me home.”

After so many days and nights of battered distance, I tasted sugar on her lips, desire swirling around us in thick, bracing waves, and my skewed view of the world came a little more right.

Nash. He wasn’t here, and I felt his absence in the raw scrape of my pulse. In the abrasive anxiety I knew wouldn’t settle until I sank into his baby blues and saw for myself that what we had was still there. That I hadn’t fuckin’ broken it. But Orla, man. This woman. My woman. Ours. I found strength in just touching her. Feeling her silky warmth against my sore body, and despite what I’d told her, I felt better than human as I took her hand and led her from the sales desk. For the first time in a while, I felt alive.

I steered her to her car, then clued into reality enough to remember that whoever had absorbed my close-protection role while I’d been away with the fuckin’ fairies needed to know she was on the move. “Who’s been guarding you when Nash isn’t around?”

Orla paused with her hand on the car door. “Mateo and Decoy mostly. But it’s Saint right now.”

Because Mateo was loitering outside Kara’s house. I knew that because I’d left him there, so I scanned the yard for Saint or Decoy, knowing I’d find at least one of them already up to speed with events. Knowing I’d find Saint watching us from somewhere I’d never fuckin’ thought of.

He was closer than I’d imagined, standing in the shadows of the clubhouse, a few feet from a hog I barely recognised. My hog, in better shape now than when I’d fuckin’ bought it. Cos Nash had scraped it out of a ditch and fixed it. And how was that for screwed up symbolism?

River helped.

As if that nugget of knowledge eased the guilt searing my soul.

You hurt him.

And I’d nearly put my fist through his jaw. A fact that was getting harder and harder to live with. A fuckin’ crater-sized wound not even Orla could fix.

You fucked up.

No, I hadn’t. And neither had he. Everything he’d done had been to protect me. I knew that as well as I had when I’d screamed the opposite in his beautiful face. But this messed-up world we lived in, it was evil, and in that horrible fuckin’ moment, I’d let it win. I’d let Priest win, when I knew for a goddamn fact that Nash was still out all hours of the day and night trying to put that right for me too.

I don’t deserve him.

A bitter pill as I reached Saint, thankful I no longer had to swallow barrel-sized antibiotics three times a day. “She’s leaving,” I told him as if he didn’t already know.

He nodded and dropped the keys to my Dyna into my palm. “You first.”

Meaning he’d follow, tail-gunning at the rear of Orla’s Toyota.

“You don’t think I should drive her?”

Saint shook his head. I waited to see if he had more to say, but that was apparently it.

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