Smoke still hung in the garage like a bad memory, but the fire was out and the Reapers were gone.
Colossus hadn’t let go of me since he’d dropped Blade outside like yesterday’s trash. His arm stayed locked around my waist, big hand splayed across my hip, thumb tracing slow circles through my shirt like he needed the reminder that I was solid, breathing, still here.
“You okay?” he asked for the third time, voice low and rough against my hair. We were alone again — the club had cleared the perimeter and locked down the gate, but he’d pulled me into the far corner of the garage where the half-built chopper sat untouched except for a few new dents.
I tilted my head back to look up at him. Even after a fight, the man smelled like leather and safety. “I’m better than okay, mountain man. You d
