Battle Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 3)

“This discussion? This wasn’t a discussion; it was you telling me what you think of my moody, anxious ways. A discussion would have involved input from both of us with the goal of understanding each other. Maybe you could try understanding my desire to learn more about IVF rather than thinking I’m just desperately searching for hope. Then we could have a fucking discussion.”

She stalks the rest of the way to our bedroom and slams the door before I can enter.

My phone rings again, and I grab it out of my pocket and answer it with a harsh, “What?”

“Fuck,” Ransom says. “Sorry if this is a bad time, brother, but we’ve got a situation here, and I hate to say it, but you’re gonna want to come in for it.”

Stabbing my fingers through my hair, I say, “What is it?” This is the last fucking thing I need right now.

“Memphis and Thorn have been shot. I’m heading to them now with Striker, and I’ve got Hunt trying to figure out what the fuck’s going on. He thinks it might be worth us calling on Albert to see what he knows, but I figured I’d leave that decision up to you.”

Jesus fucking Christ. Memphis and Thorn were watching the warehouse we think might be Zenith’s tonight. “Hunt’s right. I’ll go visit Albert while you get Memphis and Thorn to Doc. Call Vic, too. Give him a heads-up.”

“I don’t think it’s a wise move for you to go on your own.”

I ignore what he says. “I’ll meet you at the clubhouse after I talk to him.”

“Winter,” he starts, but I cut him off, not in the mood to hear it.

“Make sure Vic knows what he needs to do. I don’t want this shit coming back on us.”

Ending the call, I shove the phone in my pocket and open the bedroom door. Entering the room, I find Birdie’s locked herself in the bathroom while taking a shower.

“Birdie, open the door.”

“No, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Too fucking bad; I need to talk to you. I’ve gotta go take care of some stuff.”

“Well, go.”

“I’m not leaving until we talk.”

“Well, stay then.”

My patience is at breaking point. “I have to go, but there’s no fucking way I’m leaving until you open this door and let me in to say what I have to say.” When she doesn’t respond, I bang on the door. “Birdie! Open the goddam door!”

At this point, I’m ready to break the damn thing down, but she yanks the door open and demands, “What?”

She’s standing in front of me, wrapped in a towel with those beautiful eyes of hers that are stormy as hell right now, throwing attitude, and while I’m worked up over the shit we’ve got going on as well as the club turmoil, all I can think about is how fucking much I love her and need to protect her.

Gripping her waist, I back her up against the vanity. “You can fight with me and throw all the attitude my way you want; you can lock me out of the fucking house for all I care, and you can scream at me that you think I don’t understand you, but you need to know I love you more than I even fucking know, and all I want is your happiness. Don’t ever fucking forget that.”

Her breaths come hard and fast as she takes that in. “Where are you going?”

The fact she’s not responded to what I’ve said tells me she needs time to calm down, so I let it go, figuring she’ll have plenty of time for that while I’m out. Hopefully by the time I come home, she’ll have sorted through her thoughts. “Some club stuff’s just come up that I need to handle. I’ll be a few hours at least.”

Her hands come to my shirt. “Is this something I need one of those heads-up about?”

I don’t want to say yes, but I made a promise to her about this, so I nod. “Maybe.”

She swallows hard, worry flashing in her eyes, but she keeps her shit together. “Okay.” Her hands clutch my shirt harder. “I love you, too.”

My mouth crashes down onto hers, and I pour all the love and frustration I’m feeling into this kiss. She does the same, and when we’re finished, I have to force myself to let her go and get out of here.

“I’ll call you when I’m on my way home.”

The look of fear in her eyes is the last thing I see as I turn to leave, and I have trouble removing it from my mind as I head towards Albert’s club. By the time I arrive, though, I’ve managed to push it far enough back to allow my focus to be completely on what I need to do here.