Page 33 of Angel’s Claim

"This isn't a fight," she says, her voice breaking. "This is five guys with weapons who want to hurt you because you protected me. This is my fault!"

"No." I pull back just enough to look her in the eyes. "This is not your fault. This is Dusty being a drunk asshole who can't handle being told no. And yeah, there are five of them. But I've handled worse."

"Angel, please!"

"Trust me," I say again. "Please."

She stares at me for a long moment, and I see the war happening behind her eyes, the part of her that wants to drag me back inside and lock the door, and the part that's trying desperately to believe I know what I'm doing.

"I trust you," she whispers.

Good.

I pull my phone out of my pocket with one hand, still holding her gaze. I type out a quick message to Phoenix with my thumb.

**Me:** Need backup. Millhaven Inn. Five guys, three armed. Bike's down.

I hit send and wait for the reply. It comes almost immediately.

**Phoenix:** On our way. Five minutes. Don't do anything stupid.

Five minutes.

I can work with that.

"Angel, you fucking coward!" Dusty yells from the parking lot. "You gonna hide behind your girl all night, or you gonna come out here and face us like a man?"

I pocket my phone and look down at Bree.

"I need you to wait here," I say. "Right by the door. If this goes south, you run back to your room and lock the door. Don't come out until you hear my voice. Understand?"

"No…"

"Bree." I cup her face with both hands, forcing her to look at me. "I need you safe. I can't do this if I'm worried about you getting caught in the middle. So please. Wait here."

She's crying now. Silent tears streaming down her face, but she nods.

"Okay," she whispers.

"Five minutes," I say. "My president and my brothers will be here in five minutes. I just need to keep them busy until then."

"What if they hurt you?"

"They won't."

"You don't know that."

"Yeah, I do." I press another kiss to her forehead, then let her go and turn toward the parking lot.

Dusty sees me coming and grins wider. "There he is! Took you long enough."

I walk slowly, keeping my hands loose at my sides. Five minutes. I just need to stall for five minutes.

"You boys having fun?" I ask, keeping my voice level.

"Oh, we're having a great time," Dusty says. He taps the bat against his palm. "Nice bike. Or it was, anyway."

I glance at my motorcycle. The damage is worse than I thought. The fuel tank is dented in three places. The headlight is smashed. The handlebars are bent.