Page 38 of Angel’s Claim

She's worth all of it.

Brick barks out a laugh. "Man's gone. Completely fucking gone."

Ranger shakes his head, grinning. "Less than twenty-four hours, and you're already in deeper than most of us were after weeks."

"Can't help good timing," I say.

Saint stands up from where he's been crouched beside my bike. "Head wounds bleed like hell but they're usually superficial. You feel dizzy, nauseous, vision gets blurry, you call me immediately. Don't fuck around with head injuries."

"I won't."

"And you—" Saint looks at Bree. "If he starts acting weird, slurring words, can't remember things, you call. Doesn't matter what time it is."

Bree nods quickly. "I will. I promise."

Phoenix walks over to me and claps a hand on my shoulder, the one that didn't take the wrench. "You did good tonight, prospect. Held your ground, waited for backup like you were supposed to. That's what we need from you."

"Thank you."

Phoenix nods, then turns to the others. "Let's get this bike back. Diesel's going to want to see what he's working with."

The brothers move as one. Brick and Ranger position their bikes on either side of mine, creating a triangle formation. Wraith pulls out rope from his saddlebag, always prepared, and they work together to secure my destroyed motorcycle between the two bikes, lashing it tight so it won't shift or fall during the ride back.

I watch them work, Bree still tucked against my side and feel something settle in my chest.

This is my family now.

These men who dropped everything to back me up against five drunk assholes. Who didn't ask questions, didn't hesitate, just showed up because I needed them.

This is what I've been looking for.

Within five minutes, my bike is secured between Brick's and Ranger's, ropes pulled taut and tested. The brothers mount up, engines roaring to life one by one.

Phoenix looks at me one last time. "Check in tomorrow. Let me know how you're doing."

"Will do."

He nods, then leads the others out of the parking lot in formation. Brick and Ranger moving slowly with my wrecked bike between them, Wraith and Saint flanking them. The sound of their engines fades into the distance, and suddenly it's just me and Bree standing in the growing darkness.

She looks up at me, her face still streaked with tears. "You should have gone with them."

"No."

"Angel…"

"I'm exactly where I need to be," I say, and I mean it.

She stares at me for a long moment, then rises up on her toes and presses her lips to my cheek. It's soft, gentle, and over way too fast.

"Thank you," she whispers. "For staying."

"Come on. Let's get you inside and take a moment to rest."

I guide her back toward the motel, my arm around her shoulders, her body tucked against mine.

And despite the throbbing in my ribs and the blood drying on the back of my head, I've never felt better in my life.

Chapter 7 - Bree