Wretched Love

His eyes found mine, and they flared. “I’ll buy you a whole fuckin’ store of those boots too,” he murmured.

I glanced down to the boots, grinning.

“We’re heading off on a run,” he said as he buttoned his jeans.

I glanced up at him. “A run?”

He nodded slowly.

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” I asked. The men had mentioned runs every now and then, but I was always busy doing something, and the alone time Swiss and I spent together was not used to talk about club slang and what it meant.

I didn’t know what being a member of the Sons of Templar really entailed. Except for being criminally hot and wearing cool outfits, throwing great parties and living an overall awesome existence free of rules or social constraints.

Yes, I could hazard a guess as to what the club did.

Swiss wore a gun in a holster under his cut, and had a knife strapped to his belt. He would sometimes leave in the middle of the night and go straight to the shower instead of getting in bed with me when he came back.

I might’ve lived a sheltered life, but I wasn’t a complete idiot. I understood it was highly likely that the Sons made their living off nefarious things. That Swiss broke the law.

He never pretended to be a saint. Though he didn’t lay out the specifics of what he did, he didn’t hide anything from me either. I had the feeling he would reply truthfully to whatever question I asked. That he would trust me with the truth. Heck, I had the feeling he was waiting for me to ask so we could cross over that imaginary barrier. So that I would settle into this place more permanently.

But I could not ask him to trust me, I could not seek that trust when I had not yet trusted him with my truth.

“Got a shipment comin’ in,” he explained, pulling me to his chest. “We’re meeting some… business partners in Arizona.” He looked at me expectantly, as if he were waiting for me to ask for more. To clarify his vague explanation as to what he was doing.

I supposed maybe that’s what most women would do. We were innately curious. Especially about men we were sleeping with. Especially about men we were falling in love with.

And I was curious. Desperately so. More than anything, I was clutched with worry about Swiss. I could gather that his lifestyle was full of danger, both from him being hurt or locked up. The thought of either happening filled me with dread and panic.

“How long will you be gone?” I asked instead of the myriad of other questions I had on my mind.

Something flickered in Swiss’s eyes, something that looked a lot like disappointment. But it was gone as soon as it appeared. And I could’ve imagined it.

“Two days,” he replied, stroking my back. “Maybe three.”

I nodded, feeling sick to my stomach. Two days. Maybe three. Not long. Not at all. Certainly not a stretch of time to have a panic attack about. But I was on the verge of one.

That was two, maybe three less days I had with Swiss. Violet would be home in a few months. I needed to be at the airport when she landed, regardless of what was going on with Preston.

I still hadn’t contacted a lawyer. I’d gone as far as researching some of the best ones in our state. But I did not possess the courage or the capital to actually call the firms. So I was putting my head in the sand, pretending I didn’t have a whole life to plan for, that I didn’t have to face my abusive, estranged husband in the near future. That I had to leave the life I’d made here.

All of that was indescribably terrifying and not something I should’ve been able to ignore.

And I wouldn’t be able to ignore it. Not without Swiss.

“I’ll try my best to make it two,” Swiss said, dropping a feather soft kiss against my lips. I stewed on that. “But we might have another… more legitimate, more fulfilling job to do, depending on how things shake out.”

I tilted my head in question. The word ‘legitimate’ piqued my curiosity.

“One of the other charters started an organization,” he elaborated, rubbing my arms now. “President of Oregon grew up seein’ some tough shit, mother bein’ smacked around by his dad… until he killed his father at sixteen. Got locked up for it. Patched the second he got out.”

My heart thundered.

“Anyway, like most of us, he abhors men who are weak enough to lay hands on women,” Swiss continued, obviously unaware of the rapid change in my body temperature.

It felt like I was being frozen to the spot.

“Have no fuckin’ idea how it’s structured, just know that we get a location, turn up and help a woman move out. Rough up the husband a little if he’s stupid enough to be home.” He grinned wickedly at me. “That’s not a part that’s advertised to the public, but it’s a personal favorite of mine.”