Page 2 of Untamed Heart

Oh, if this guy only knew what I was capable of handling.I didn’t bother saying so. “I’m not staying. I just need to talk to Roe.” My attention slid from Pope as I scanned the room for the one and only person I wanted to see, but I couldn’t find him. “Do you know where he is?”

If anyone knew where he would be, it was Pope. The two of them were so damn close, it was a wonder they weren’t fused at the hip. They’d prospected together, become full-blown Wraiths together, and I’d heard plenty of talk of where they planned to take the club in the future once Pope wore the president’s patch.

The humor that had been in his expression a moment ago slowly melted away, and I could have sworn his eyes bounced down to my injured cheek before returning to my own. “Last I saw, he went to take a piss.” He paused, his gaze scrutinizing. “Everything okay, Dakota? If something’s wrong?—”

I forced my mouth into a phony smile and shook my head. “I’m fine. I just need to find Roe.” I raised both my brows in silent question. The faster I found him, the faster I could get the hell out of this clubhouse and this town and never look back.

Pope’s eyes drifted to something over my shoulder, and a moment later he pointed in that direction. I turned just in time to see Roe stagger into the room, buttoning his fly like he’d just gotten done doing exactly what Pope said. His head lifted, his penetrating dark blue gaze locking with mine instantly, like he sensed me as soon as he walked into the room.

Confusion marred his brow for just a second before it washed away, replaced with that same wide, panty-melting smile that never failed to make my knees feel wobbly. That very smile was why I’d fallen in love with him the instant he walked into my life. It was why I’d carried a torch for Roe foryearsbefore I finally turned eighteen and found the courage to make my move.

The only time I’d been able to breathe fully in the past nineteen years was when he smiled at me like that, and at that very second, I felt my ribs expanding and my lungs filling with air. “Roe.” I said his name on an exhale of relief. That was what it felt like every time I saw him. Pure relief. Like things were finally good.

He was the only source of happiness in my life, and other than Remy, the one person I loved above anyone else. If it wasn’t for him, I wasn’t sure I would have survived this long.

“Honeybee?”

My heart flipped at the endearment. The rest of the guys might have called me Little Riley, but Roe had always called me Honeybee. Only him.

His smiled widened, the excitement in his gaze growing as he took me in while swaying a little to the left. That was when I noticed the glassiness to his eyes and the tinge of pink on his cheeks that only happened when he drank. “Hey, baby. What are you doin’ here?” He didn’t give me a chance to answer before hooking his arm around my waist and pulling me into him. I loved that about him, how he always seemed to want to touch me. If I was within reach, it never failed that he had a hand on me somewhere. It warmed my heart and make me feel cherished every single time. That was Roe. He sensed that I craved physical affection more than anything, and he gave it to me.

My father hadn’t exactly been happy when Roe and I got together, and it wasn’t just the five-year age difference between us. But even though I’d been crushing on him fromthe beginning, Roe had never been anything but a perfect gentleman. I hadn’t even known he was interested in me until after I turned eighteen and finally confessed my feeling for him.

Dad’s biggest issue with our relationship was that Roe was an Iron Wraith. A brother. He’d prospected while I was still young and was a fully patched member by the time we got together, and my dad hadn’t exactly been thrilled to have the two aspects of his life merge. He didn’t have a leg to stand on, though, and he knew it. So when I informed him I wasn’t giving Roe up, no matter what, he let it drop. He knew pushing meant possibly blowing up both parts of his life, and that wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. Because it might mean having to yank his head out of his ass and admit to everything that had been going on. Everything he’d ignored for so long.

As I stared up at Roe, my heart felt like it was slowly bleeding. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” I took a shaky breath as I cast a side-long glance at the room around us. “Somewhere private? Please?”

His expression sobered. I wasn’t sure if it was the way the words broke as they came out or the look on my face, but he didn’t hesitate to take my hand and lead me out of the main area to the hall that led to his bedroom.

Seeing as the whole clubhouse was little more than a bachelor pad, Roe’s room wasn’t much of anything, but he’d done a little work to make it his own since moving into it as soon as he became a full-fledged Iron Wraith.

There were a few framed pictures around the room. A couple of him with the other club members, one of him and Pope with their arms slung around each other’s shoulders, and the rest were of the two of us together.

The seconds and minutes and hours I spent with Roe were the only times in my life when I felt happy. The smiles I wore in those pictures were all because of him.

Where the rest of the clubhouse might have stunk like a frat house after a massive kegger, his room was thankfully free of all of that. Instead, the scent was distinctly Roe. His room smelled like leather and pine and something a bit spicy with a hint of motor oil from his work at the garage the Wraiths owned.

I gave myself a moment to take in the space, letting Roe’s presence comfort me as I tried to find the courage to say what I came to say.

“Hey.” Roe’s voice was soft as he stepped in front of me, gently clasping my chin between his thumb and index finger and tilting my face up to his. His brows were pulled together, two pitch black slashes over a set of stunning dark blue eyes.

God, I loved those eyes. They reminded me of the deepest parts of the ocean or the sky after the sun started to set. I always felt like I knew everything he was thinking and feeling whenever I looked into his eyes. At that very moment, he was worried.

“What’s wrong Honeybee?” His hand slid my hair away from my face to cup my cheek.

I squeezed my eyes closed, willing the burn of tears to go away. “I can’t...” I gave my head a small shake as the weight I’d been carrying on my shoulders pressed down harder, threatening to buckle my knees. “I can’t...” I didn’t understand why the words were struggling to come up. It was as if they were being physically blocked by the lump of fear lodged in my throat.

“Talk to me, baby.”

His thumb glided right over the spot where my cheekbone throbbed the worst, and I couldn’t silence the sharp gasp at the stab of pain.

He jerked his hand back like he was afraid he’d just burned me. “Wha—” The worry in his eyes slowly melted away as realization dawned, and his expression turned thunderous.

“That bitch hit you again, didn’t she?” I sniffled, nodding my head instead of answering vocally. My tongue suddenly felt toothick for my mouth. “Christ, baby. I’m so sorry.” He pulled me into his arms, wrapping them around me and squeezing, like if he could just hold me tight enough, he could protect me from anything.

If only it were that simple.

After a full minute—I’d counted every second as they passed—he took me by the shoulders and shifted me back so he could see my face again. The rage I saw when I looked at him gave me hope that maybe this would work. Until he spoke next.