That’s when it hit me.

We forgot the damned condom.

Again.

PAINTER

Mel looked like shit.

She was covered in dirt, her shirt was torn, and she had this lost, haunted look in her eyes. Christ. Picnic would take one look at her and assume I’d beaten her.

He wouldn’t be that far off.

Pic wasn’t waiting for me at the clubhouse when we got back, though. Most of the Reaper bikes were gone, and there wasn’t any sign of the fuckwad, either. The Silver Bastard prospects were smart enough to keep their mouths shut, although I saw one duck back into the clubhouse.

Seconds later Boonie stepped out, followed by Gunnar.

“Can I have a word?” he asked, eyes flickering to Mel.

“Sure,” I said. “Give us a sec.”

Mel nodded, almost like she was in shock. I suppose she probably was. Hell, I felt sort of shocked myself, so I suppose it was fair enough.

“What’s up?” Boonie cocked a brow, then nodded toward her. “She okay?”

“She’s fine.”

“You hurt her?”

“No,” I said, daring him to challenge me. He frowned, then nodded. “I’ve got some information for you, about the guy she came with.”

I stilled.

“What’s that?”

“He’s a dealer,” Gunnar said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not sure if he was dating her for real or just using her for cover, but he was here to pick up a shipment. We’ve been working with him for about six months now. Does special orders, that kind of thing. He’s bad news.”

I nodded slowly, looking back toward Melanie. She was standing next to my bike, hugging herself protectively. For an instant I felt guilty, then shook it off. She was mine. No way I should feel guilty about claiming my own damned property.

“We have a problem?”

Boonie shook his head.

“He’s nothing. I mean, he was a decent earner, but he’d never be more than that. He’ll keep his mouth shut—he’s seen enough to know better than to talk. I had a little chat with him, too. Guess he works at the hospital with her. I suggested that he find another job—fast. He seemed to think this was a solid idea. You won’t be seeing him again.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Sorry about the mess.”

“Shit happens,” Gunnar said, eyeing Mel again. “You sure she’s okay?”

“She’ll be fine,” I said. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“That’s good, because it looks like you raped her,” Boonie said. I shook my head.

“More like we hate-fucked each other. Trust me, she was into it. Sick and twisted, but it wasn’t rape.”

“Darcy will be relieved,” Boonie said. “Think you pissed off my old lady something fierce—she took off right after you did. Got a feeling I won’t be gettin’ any tonight.”

I bit back a grin, because Darcy pissed off was something to see.

“Sorry about that.”

He shrugged, then gave me a sly smile.

“Gotta love makeup sex. Good luck with your girl.”

“Thanks. Have a feeling I’ll need it.”

He thumped my back and we said our good-byes, then I started back toward Melanie. She glared at me the whole time, which I found almost comforting. I could handle nearly anything but that strange blankness she’d had right after I fucked her.

That was a little scary.

“You ready to go home?” I asked.

“I’ve been ready to go home all night. I still hate you.”

“You need to find new insults. That’s getting old.”

“Fuck off.”

Grinning, I climbed onto my bike. She climbed up behind me, tucking in tight and wrapping her arms around my waist, tits pressed against my back. For the first time in forever things in my world felt right, twisted as that sounds.

She was mine. She’d always been mine. I’d be damned if I’d share her with another man.

•   •   •

We pulled up to her house a little before midnight. Pic had mentioned earlier that Izzy was sleeping over at his place, but I’d assumed it was because Mel had to work. Much as seeing her with the fuckwad pissed me off, the end result was working in my favor. Turning off the bike, I waited for her to climb off, then followed her toward the house.

“You don’t need to come in,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do,” I replied. “We need to get cleaned up, and then we need to talk.”

“What’s to talk about?” she sniped, digging in her pocket for the key. She fumbled and nearly dropped it, so I reached out and took it from her, opening the door. I glanced around the cozy house as we stepped inside. Izzy had taken all the pillows off the couch, lining them up along the wall. On top were all her dolls and stuffed animals, including a little skeleton from last Halloween that she’d fallen in love with. They were covered in blankies, washcloths, and even a few tissues.

“She put her babies to bed before she left for London’s,” I said, feeling the same sense of peace I always got when I thought about Izzy. God, but I loved that kid. Mel smiled, glancing toward me with a look of shared pride in our girl.

“She always does. Tucks in each one and then she tells them a story. Does she do it at your place, too?”

“Yeah.”

“We made a good kid.”

“I want us to live together,” I said abruptly, running a hand through my hair. “We’re a family, Mel.”

She stared at me, covered in dirt, hair looking like she’d survived a tornado.

“We’re fucked up,” she said. “Look at us. There’s something wrong here, Painter.”

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” I told her. “Look me in the eye and tell me it wasn’t the same for you.”

Mel glared at me, but she didn’t say a damned thing. I bit back a laugh—busted.

“The sex is good. We’ve got a kid. You already admitted you want me around—don’t think I’ve forgotten that. So far as I can tell, the only reason we aren’t together is that you’re so damned stubborn you can’t let yourself just accept it and be happy.”

“What about Aaron?” she asked. “That’s messed up, Painter. You would’ve killed him. I saw it in your face.”

She was right. Almost.

“But I didn’t kill him,” I reminded her.

“That’s because Puck stopped you.”

“Maybe,” I admitted. “But he was with me for a reason. That’s the thing about having brothers, Mel—they got you covered when you can’t cover yourself.”

“Yeah, I noticed that,” she said, her voice growing harder. “Particularly the way they all pretended you weren’t dragging me out against my will. I was screaming for help and they just watched. That’s sick.”

“He’s a dealer,” I said, derailing her. She blinked.

“Who?”

“Aaron. He was using you for cover—he was at the Silver Bastards’ clubhouse to pick up a shipment. Drugs—or maybe guns. I didn’t get the specifics and I don’t care. What I do care about is the fact that if he’d gotten busted, you would’ve gone down as an accomplice. So far as I’m concerned, I didn’t hurt him enough.”

She stilled.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. That’s what Boonie was telling me.”

“Shit,” she said, collapsing onto the couch. She let her head fall back, staring at the ceiling. “He met Izzy. He gave her a little stuffed unicorn . . . I thought it was sweet.”

“Fucking asshole. Where is it?”

She looked around. “I don’t see it—she probably took it out to London’s. Don’t worry, I’ll bribe her or something, get it away from her. No way I want that in this house, knowing how he used me.”

I sat next to her, propping my feet up on the coffee table. We both needed a shower in a bad way, but we needed to get this shit settled even more. She was on the edge, though. I could see it. Christ, but women were complicated.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“Would you ever do that?”

“Do what?”

“Carry something illegal around me or Izzy?”

I sighed, wondering how to answer. Fuck it, might as well give her the truth.

“I have a gun on my bike. That’s illegal—I’m a felon, not allowed to own a firearm.”