Page 253

Sweet sits on the edge of the bed with a blanket around her shoulders and Mama’s frame in her lap. Her wrist is wrapped. Bruising shadows one cheek. Scrapes mark her knees and palms. Her hair is tangled over one shoulder, and she looks exhausted enough that something vicious twists in my chest.

She also looks at me like she has learned exactly how dangerous hope can be.

She should.

I stop a few feet inside the room.

“Morning.”

“Morning.”

No smile. No softness.

Nothing I did not earn.

Mercy stays in the doorway.

Sweet glances at her. “It’s okay.”

Mercy looks at me. “Is it?”

“No,” I answer before Sweet has to. “But I ain’t making it worse.”

“That would be refreshing.”

She steps into the hall but leaves the door open.

I look at Sweet.

She looks back.

Every speech I built overnight dies where it deserves.

“I broke my word to you.”

Her fingers tighten around the frame. “I know.”

“I promised the club would not use anything tied to Razor without asking you first. Then I agreed to use the tracker anyway.”

Sweet says nothing.

“I promised you no other women.”

Her face changes, barely, but enough.

I make myself keep looking at her.

“Then I cheated on you.”

“Yes.”

“And what I said in the garage was a lie.”

Her chin lifts slightly.

I can almost hear the words hanging between us.

A woman I fucked.