Page 13 of Tempted By Shadow

Her fingers stop moving on my skin. “Before King?”

“Before King. Before the club. Before I was anybody.” I stare at the ceiling, watching the stripes of light shift when a car passes outside. “I was living on couches, running with the wrong people, doing whatever I had to do to survive. That’s what I thought, anyway. That I was surviving. Really, I was just waiting to die in some alley and not caring much if it happened.”

She doesn’t say anything. Just listens. Her hand finds mine, fingers threading together.

“King gave me a way out,” I continue. “A reason to be better. The club’s the first place I ever belonged. The first time anyone ever looked at me and saw something worth saving.”

The words hung in the air between us. I’ve never told anyone that before. Not the brothers, not anyone. It feels dangerous, like I’ve handed her a weapon.

“You’re more than what you owe him, you know,” she whispers.

I want to believe that. I’m not sure I can.

“King saved my life,” I say. “Everything I have, everything I am — it’s because of him. I owe him everything.”

“And what does that mean for this?” She gestures between us. “For us?”

I don’t have an answer. So I kiss her instead.

Days blur into weeks.

I keep “checking on her” — reporting to King every few days that she’s fine, settled, staying out of trouble. He nods, doesn’t ask questions. Trusts me to do the job he gave me. Why wouldn’t he? I’ve been solid for two years. I’ve never given him a reason to doubt me.

Until now.

Then I go back to her apartment and stay the night.

It becomes routine. Dangerous, addictive routine. I show up after dark and We eat dinner. We talk. We fuck. I hold her while she sleeps and leave before the sun comes up, slipping back to the clubhouse like nothing happened.

Some nights we don’t even make it to the bedroom. Some nights I barely get through the door before she’s on me, and we end up on the kitchen counter or the couch or the floor. Other nights it’s slow, lazy, the kind of sex where we take our time and learn each other’s bodies until I know every sound she makes, every spot that makes her gasp.

I’m falling. I know I’m falling. And I can’t do a damn thing to stop it.

The double life is eating me alive.

Every time I look at King, the guilt twists deeper. Every time he claps me on the shoulder or gives me a nod of approval, I want to confess everything. But I don’t. I can’t. Because confessing means losing her, and I’m not ready for that.

I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for that.

“Shadow.” King’s voice catches me in the garage one afternoon. I’m working on a bike — actually working, for once, not just pretending while I think about her. My hands are covered in grease and I’m halfway through a brake job that’s been giving me trouble all week.

“Yeah, Prez?”

He leans against the workbench, arms crossed. Studies me for a moment with those eyes that see too much. I keep my face neutral, my body relaxed, even though my heart is hammering against my ribs so hard I’m sure he must be able to hear it.

“You’ve been solid lately,” he says. “Reliable. Showing up early and staying late. The brothers have noticed.”

My stomach drops. “Just doing my job.”

“You’re doing more than that.” He nods slowly, and there’s something in his expression that might be approval. Might even be pride. “The way you’ve handled watching out for Naomi. Keeping me updated without making a thing of it. That’s exactly what I needed.”

The guilt is a knife between my ribs. I can barely breathe around it.

“Keep it up, kid. You’re getting close.”

Close to the patch. Close to everything I’ve been working toward for two years. Close to becoming a full brother, earning my place, finally belonging somewhere for real.

And all I can think about is how I’m betraying him every single night.