He reached one of his large hands up, his rough fingers gently brushing the stray strands of hair back away from my wet face, his thick thumb tenderly wiping away the fresh tear tracks on my skin with an incredible amount of gentleness.
“This motorcycle club life is incredibly ugly, Tessa,” he admitted to me openly, his jaw clenching tightly as he spoke the honest, unvarnished truth. “It is inherently violent. It is constantly dangerous. I am absolutely never going to sit here and lie to your face by telling you that it gets easier or that the threats will completely disappear. They won't. But I swear to you right now, on my own life and on the patch on my back—I will do absolutely everything within my human power to survive the highway and come home to this bedroom to hold your body ever
