Wretched Love

But right now, I had iron clad control over that shit. And I very much needed to be alive.

“You don’t get it,” I gritted out. “We need to get her, and we need to kill that mother fuckin’ husband.”

Hansen’s eyes darted behind me, and he shook his head, probably telling Hades not to pull me off him just yet. “Okay, brother,” he patted my back. “We’ll go get her.”

I squeezed his cut once more before I let him go.

My chest itched.

“Promise me you won’t look at it until… just until I say.”

That had confused me. Worried me. The way her voice was so small, hesitant. I’d wrongly thought it was ’cause she didn’t like the violence of it. Which was wrong… I’d seen the way she’d come alive holding that knife.

But I’d been too mad with need to think too hard on it. Too hungry to fuck her with her brand on my chest.

Brothers scattered as I damn near sprinted to the closest bathroom, ripping off the bandage I’d worn for the past few days—before then, I hadn’t looked. Kate had changed the bandage, cleaned it for me, and I’d kept my promise—to stare at the angry red letters on my chest.

K.C.

Her married name was Edwards.

There was a chance, a small chance, her maiden name started with the same letter as mine.

But I knew that it didn’t.

Down to my fucking soul, I knew it didn’t.

She’d given herself my name.

That’s when the mirror smashed.

It was my fist that did it.

When I walked back into the common room, everyone was standing there. Jagger was on the phone, probably talking to Wire to get location data.

Hansen had been speaking but stopped when I walked in.

“We need to go and get her. Now,” I growled.

Hansen’s eyes motioned downward. “Want to take care of that first?”

I glanced downward. My left hand was covered in blood. It was dripping on the floor. There was glass embedded in it. “Nope,” I said to Hansen. “What I need is to get my woman.”

Hansen nodded concisely before looking to Jagger. “We got a trail?”

Jagger’s eyes flickered to me before he looked to our president, nodding in response.

“Good,” Hansen clapped his hands together. “Let’s go.”

“I just hope we’re not too fuckin’ late,” I muttered.