Cole
I lit the cigarette too hard and snapped the filter clean off.
“f**k,” I muttered, staring at it like it had personally betrayed me.
I crushed it under my boot and kept walking.
I should have been gone already. Back at the clubhouse. Back in noise and engines and men who didn’t ask questions with their eyes. That was the rule. Always had been. Don’t linger. Don’t circle back. Don’t let a woman crawl under your skin and start rearranging s**t.
I made it three blocks before I turned around.
Jesusfuck.
I stood there on the sidewalk like a jack-ass, helmet tucked under my arm, chest tight in a way that had nothing to do with exertion. The house was quiet behind me. Lights low. Curtains drawn. Normal. Safe.
She was in there.
Mara Collins. Tired eyes. Sharp mouth. Hands that shook
