Page 29 of Property of Yak

It’s also ridiculously easy to get inside if someone really wanted. Something I noticed the last time I was here but now need to fix.

I’m making mental notes in my head of how to make it safer when she speaks.

“I don’t need your protection. I mean, if you don’t want to protect me. I will be fine.”

I give her a look that says otherwise.

“Seriously, I have my own protection. Or I can get it.”

“Okay, Angel. You have my attention. How are you going to protect yourself?”

I wonder if she has a gun. Not that it would stop Aragon. I doubt she is proficient enough to out gun him.

Then she says the last words I thought I would ever hear.

“My father is the chief of police.”

“Motherfucker,” I hiss out.

“Language,” she mutters, looking down at her feet.

I should have read the fucking file Meek sent. I would have already known this. I could have leaked information to her father and kept her away from all of this.

Fuck, I messed up bad. Her father has been trying to bring the Kings of Anarchy down for years. Not just us, though. All gangs in the area.

This is bad. So fucking bad.

“So, if you want to take your claim away or whatever, I would understand.”

I hate how small she sounds. Like she doesn’t want to give me the out, but she’s doing it anyway.

“Don’t ever tell anyone who your father is. Especially those associated with my club. Understand?”

She nods. “I won’t. I won’t tell him about you either,” she mumbles.

Walking over to her, I cup her cheek. “I don’t care if he knows about me. I’m willing to do the time, but if my club finds out about you? They will kill you. It won’t matter that you are innocent or that you aren’t feeding information to him. They will think you are, so they will eliminate the threat. I won’t be able to save you.”

She looks up at me, a sheen to her eyes as if she were about to cry.

“Don’t worry about a thing, Angel. I’m going to protect you until my dying breath.”

She leans into my hand, giving me all of her trust, and fuck if I don’t revel in how powerful it makes me feel.

“You should go rest,” I tell her after a moment.

“I don’t even know your name,” she whispers.

It’s crazy to think that she doesn’t know my name. That we haven’t been together a lot longer than the two nights we have now shared, but it’s the truth. Even though it feels like a lifetime.

I look down at the jacket on her to my patch with my name on it.

She does the same.

“Yak? That’s not a name.”

I clear my throat. “It’s a road name. Given to me by someone I respect.”

She frowns. “Why Yak?”