Page 31 of Ridin’ Dirty

“I’m sorry—what?”

Pistol sighed as he reached up and ran his fingers through his curls. His irritation made me irritated. I tossed my breakfast onto the bed next to me as I stood.

“I haven’t slept, and I haven’t eaten because you locked me in here all night long on account of you not knowin’ me and therefore not trustin’ me, and your solution to that problem is to marry me?”

“Rings are in my pocket,” he drawled. He then pointed his chin toward the bed. “Handled the food. Sleep comes later. So, you gonna eat or what?”

I ignored his question. “What if I say no?”

“Then I wasted a trip to Bolt & Bruizer and I guess you’ll go hungry.”

My brain took a detour as I registered the name of the breakfast spot. It was a bakery and barkery, with baked goods for both humans and their dogs. Given I hadn’t seen Pistol without Reaper nearby, it shouldn’t have surprised me that he knew such a place existed—but it was still hard for me to imagine the biker in front of me in a place like that.

“Wait. What? No,” I stammered shaking my head clear as I tried to refocus. “What if I say no to marrying you?”

“You won’t.”

I knit my eyebrows together. “But what if I do?”

He took a step toward me then, moving so fast my breath caught when I felt his fingers grip the back of my neck and squeeze. He wasn’t hurting me, but I still stood frozen as he got in my face.

“You won’t say no cause I’m not askin’,” he growled. “Clue in, babe—this is your only way out of the clubhouse.”

With him so close to me, my brain was doing that thing again. My memories of the man both sexy and intimidating were wrestling for dominance. The scent of him filling my nose meant sexy was winning.

“This is crazy. We barely know each other. You don’t even remember my⁠—”

“Said I wouldn’t kill you, and I’m a man of my word—but you fight me on this, and you might cease to exist outside of these four walls. The way I understand it, you’re unattached. At least you were, until you saw what you saw. Now, you’re mine.” He squeezed my neck and muttered, “Lyla—we’re done talkin’. You want that sandwich, best bring it with you. Let’s go.”

He released me and turned for the door.

I stood frozen beside the bed, taken aback that he actually did know my name.

‘…you’re unattached. At least you were…’

It was stupid. It was so totally stupid, but something he said tripped me up.

‘Now, you’re mine.’

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

What he was proposing was insane, there was no doubt about that. But I watched him kill someone. Was I going to rat him out to the Copper Kings? No. Did I have any intention of reporting his crime to the police? Hell, no. But somewhere in his crazy logic, did he have a point?

If things went sideways, if he got caught and I got tangled up in the mess, my silence could make me an accomplice. Or, at the very least, I could be charged with obstruction of justice or something. I’d seen enough cop shows to get the idea.

But if I was his wife…

My mind whirled as I considered the possibility.

‘…you’re unattached. At least you were…’

I knew if I said yes, the untold consequences would be many. I couldn’t even begin to list them. But there was a flip side, too.

‘Now, you’re mine.’

“Babe,” he called from the door. I looked over at him, Reaper standing by his side, both of them clearly ready to get a move on. “Won’t say it again. Let’s go.”

‘Clue in, babe—this is your only way out of the clubhouse.’