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Myself included.

Meems eyed me. Assumption and speculation carved into her keen expression.

“Mmm.” She hummed a noncommittal sound.

I stepped back. “I need to get to the clubhouse.”

I glanced at Elena. “I’ll probably be a few hours.”

Hazel eyes swam, drifting over me in her soft encouragement. “No rush. We’ll go over there later.”

“No rush, Twevan!!” Kai giggled like crazy as he pointed a finger at me.

Spirit clutching in a fist, I reached out with my index finger and touched the tip against his. “You take care of my girl for me.”

I wanted to sock myself in my own damned face when I said it. Realizing in a beat what it sounded like.

Hell, it was evidence of what I actually meant.

A motherfucking Freudian slip. God knew, the situation was just as twisted.

“I take care.” With pride, Kai patted his chest.

“That’s a good boy,” I said, words close to strangled.

I wanted to backtrack. Recant what I said. Withdraw what my soul had admitted.

Especially with the way both Meems and Brinley looked at me like they had my number.

Marked it on me.

Red-fucking-handed.

I turned on my heel and tromped back to my bike.

I waited until they all headed inside, then I let my attention skate to Pyke and Dereck, the two prospects who were assigned to watch the house tonight.

Dereck being Brinley’s brother.

He had decided to try to patch in after he’d been intrinsic in helping to bring down Kent Ellison and his crew four months ago. He was also the one who confirmed how dangerous Shayne Ellison was.

Both he and Pyke leaned against a giant tree trunk. Dark figures looming in the cover of night.

They gave me a salute that they were on the watch.

Satisfied the house was protected, I kicked my bike over and turned it toward the club, coercing myself into concentrating on what was important.

The charge.

My oath.

The only fucking thing that should matter to me.

The only problem was that oath kept getting skewed.

TWENTY-FIVE

TREVAN