Protective (Diamondback MC Second Generation 4)

CRUSH

“Your girl is here,”Ice states. I’d hit him if I had the chance. The second I lift my gaze to him, he’s moving with swiftness, a smirk on his face I wouldn’t mind replacing with my fist. The only person who would tell Gigi I’m here is also the only brother who’s not sitting with the rest of us—my father. I should have known he wasn’t going to let shit lay where it lands once I made it known no one else would be working on her piece-of-shit tin can of a car. My goal was to come here, have a few beers, maybe a shot or two, walk back home, and attempt to get some sleep. Not like that’s been working the entire time I’ve been home. It’s too fuckin’ quiet, even still. When I was in prison, I learned not to sleep but an hour or so at a time. With a name like mine and a club like ours behind me, someone was always looking for a weakness.

“Hey, Silas, do you mind if we talk?” I clocked her the minute Ice told me about her appearance, seeing the way her body shifts as she moves, tits bouncing, ponytail swinging on top of her head, and Gigi doesn’t give a single shit that she’s the only woman in the building. Not that anyone would fuck with her. Just because I didn’t claim the doe-eyed girl doesn’t mean if they fuck around, they’ll find out, and not just from me but Dad, too.

“Outside.” I stand up. The screeching of the barstool startles her, causing her to jump back. My hands wrap around her hips. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Not really wantin’ an audience, though, either.”

“Oh, I wasn’t scared, more like giving you your room.” Gigi tips her head back. She doesn’t have to crane her neck, seeing as I’m only four or five inches taller than she is, putting us at a perfect fuckin’ height for shit I shouldn’t even be thinking about, but that doesn’t make my hands leave those sinful curves either.

“We’ll go with that.” I move in closer. She gets the hint and spins around, her ass coming in contact with my lower half. “Doe,” I hiss out the name I’ve never uttered to a single fuckin’ person before, except for now. Shit, never thought I’d want someone to give any part of me. When she stops, my hips collide with her ass, and this time, it’s her mumbling something before trying to pull away from me. I’m not letting that happen. She came and sought me out. Clearly, there’s more to this story. I walk behind her, hands gripping the black scrub top she’s wearing, wanting it to be skin. Not one brother or prospect says a word as we walk outside. In fact, they scattered like cockroaches once they saw where Gigi was going.

“Silas, you can’t manhandle me every time I’m around.” The last time I was around her, I’m pretty sure Gigi was saying more, begging for me to do way more than I am right now. Not that I’ll be bringing that up right about now. I like my balls too much to risk them.

“A few more minutes, then you can tell me what you’re wantin’ to say,” I mutter in her ear, finally making it through the door, but that doesn’t stop our walk. We’re heading away from prying eyes and damn cameras. Fucked up last time. Didn’t even think to look even though I should have. I spent enough time inside to have scoped them out. I won’t be making that rookie move again.

“Fine. It’s not like this will take that long anyways.” We don’t stop moving until we’re under the trees on the back side of the clubhouse, away from prying eyes, yet there’s still a picnic bench.

“We’ll see about that, Doe.” This time when she moves away from me, I let her go and watch as she climbs on top of the picnic table, ass to the top, feet on where you’d usually sit. It works to my advantage, especially when I step closer, switching her body so her legs are hanging over the table as I step between them.

“Why are you all of a sudden calling me Doe?” she questions. Her head tips up. There’s not a whole lot of light with the sun setting off in the distance.

“You ever notice the change in your eyes at night?” She shakes her head, oblivious to her own beauty. “They change from brown to a lighter brown, more flecks of yellow, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended. Thank you, I guess?” If I had a cigarette on me right now, there’s no doubt I’d be lighting one up, giving me something to do with my hands.

“You’re beautiful, Gigi.” The palm of my hand moves to her neck, my thumb gliding over her rapidly beating pulse.

“Thank you. I guess I owe you a lot of thanks, really. It’s long overdue, and I know you probably don’t think so, but, Silas, you’ve given me more than anyone else ever has. Protecting me when a girl who was supposed to be my family told me I had to go there, and then, even when your world is spinning upside down, you still make sure I’m safe. You, Silas Futch, are a class act. More men should strive to be like you. And this week alone. I know you have other things to do for the club, getting back on your feet, but you’re still doing it.” Christ, the need to kiss her lips consumes my mind.

“Would do it over and over again. No one deserves to be treated that way. Figure I owe you an apology, and since I can’t get my shit together to put that into words, wanted to work on your car.” I shrug my shoulders like it’s not a big deal, but the prospect knows just how pissed off I was once I got her car on a lift and looked at the Band-Aid-patch job they did. Let’s just say the process for them to become a member is going to take a lot longer.

“I’m thinkin’ you should shut up, Silas, or I might kiss you.”

“And I’m thinking that wouldn’t bother me so much, except I wouldn’t stop with a kiss. You have work tomorrow, and we still have a fuck ton of talkin’ to do.” Dad alluded to the fact that when she left her foster parents on her eighteenth birthday, things were going down that he wasn’t ready to talk about. I’m thinking once the dust dies down, I’ve got a shit ton of scores to settle.

“In that case, walk me home?” She starts to hop of the picnic bench, but my hips hold her in place, and I look into those honey-colored eyes. Yeah, this shit I’ve been fighting since Mom and Dad brought me pictures of her when she turned eighteen, it’s hard to fuckin’ keep doin’.

“Yeah, I can do that.” My thumb stops at her pulse this time, holding it there, feeling her warmth, and I know come hell or high water, one day soon, I’ll have Georgiana in all the ways I’ve wanted her, age and innocence be damned.