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He’s protective of his brothers, and me being cool with them is important to him.
“I’ve gotta handle something. Scythe is gonna drive you home and hang with you ‘til I get back.”
My automatic instinct was to argue that I didn’t need a babysitter, but considering what’d just happened, that wasn’t quite true. “I’ll grab my helmet.”
“Had him bring his car, just in case.”
“Why?”
“Knew you’d be hammered, no way I’d risk you being on a bike. And in case I got called away early like this…” His large hand palmed my ass cheek. “You’re not on the back of anyone’s bike but mine.”
Ohhhhhkay then.
After giving me another forehead kiss, he was about to let me go when I impulsively grabbed his shirt. “If I’m asleep when you get home, can you wake me up to let me know you got back safe?”
His arm contracted, and he murmured, “Fuckin’ killin’ me.”
“What?”
“Nothing, princess.” He let me go, and we headed for the bikes. “It’ll be late.”
“That’s okay.”
When we reached them, Jury squeezed my shoulder. “You okay, O?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Judge crossed his arms and jerked his head toward his brother. “He can call you O, but I can’t?”
I held up the bottle. “He gave me vodka.”
“Rhys did.”
“Fine. Then he can call me O, too.”
“Heartless.” His smile fell, and Psycho Hottie was back. He looked to Scythe. “Take her home and hang ‘til I get there.”
Scythe didn’t argue or look resentful of his nanny duty. Unlocking a badass car that was even cooler looking than Judge’s, he opened the passenger door, his expression guarded.
He thinks I’m the one who’ll argue about being with him.
Just like my verbal answer to Judge, my nonverbal one to Scythe was instantaneous. I walked right to him, stopping only when we were separated by the door and one of my feet was in the car. “Bob’s Burgers or Brooklyn-Nine-Nine?”
He stared at me for a beat. Then another. Finally, he smiled. “Nine-nine. Rosa gives me w—”
I held up my hand to cut him off. “TMI.”
“I was just gonna say she gives me strong, Latina woman goals.”
“Right,” I drawled.
He headed for the driver’s side, and I got in, closing the door.
Motorcycle engines roared to life, but not before I heard Judge say, “A motherfucker’s gonna die tonight.”
My stomach sank, churning and clenching with worry.
But not for whoever had the target on their back.
