It was only the straightening of Dex's back that gave a warning he had processed my words and come to a conclusion.

That conclusion was in the shape of his fist nailing my father in the chin.

Maybe in a few years, or heck, maybe even months from then, I might feel guilty about what we did after that.

Then again, maybe I wouldn't feel a thing. Maybe, just maybe, I would never think about that visit to the pizza place or the man we left bleeding there. Who knows.

But what I did know, without a doubt in my heart, was that we did the right thing. The only thing. Maybe not the ethical or the nice thing, but when you're left to fend for yourself and for the ones you love, being proper and good-hearted goes straight out of the window.

We left.

My dad's keys in Dex's pocket, Dex and I walked out hand in hand.

A ruthlessness I didn't think I was capable of reinforced my veins and determination filled me as I spoke for the first time after Dex had stood up for me. "How much do you think we can get for his bike?"

The slow way in which he turned his head, brow up and lips pursed, was a mixture of shock and something else. But the smile that took over his features after that was the most stunning thing I'd ever seen. He reached across the console to palm my cheek. Those tattooed fingers, with the words LOYAL DREAM etched on them permanently, filled my chest with so much love and assurance I would have gone through the incident moments before all over again a hundred times for the same result.

Dex's nostrils flared as his thumb swiped over the yellowing bruise along my cheekbone. "Not sure but I know somebody who will."

Thirty minutes later, our plan had been hatched, a motel room had been broken into, and a motorcycle had disappeared from the parking lot it'd been parked in.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Linking our fingers together, Dex led me toward the elevators that night. In a matter of hours, we'd committed at least four crimes between the two of us. Battery, assault, breaking and entering, theft and who knows what the heck else.

Who would have ever thought I'd consider myself a criminal? Normally, I sweat going five miles over the speed limit.

I wrapped both my arms around his, resting my forehead on his shoulder while we rode up silently. What was there to say? We'd taken fifteen thousand from the vent my dad had hidden it in—I didn't ask how Dex knew to look there—and taken his bike to Luther's friend, who assured us he could find a buyer for the Harley Davidson Classic. For a fee, of course.

Paperwork? Tax, title, and license?

Don't worry about it, he'd said. So I wasn't going to worry about it.

The only thing I was going to worry about were the remaining thousands my dad would still owe him if we got what was expected from the bike. The Reaper money.

"So...is there something you want to tell me?"

His fingers loosened around mine letting his fingernails scrape my palm. "I tell you everythin', honey."

"Not exactly," I said in a sing-song voice as we walked toward the hotel room. He slid the keycard in. "Dex, did you pay off the Reapers?"

He grunted, holding the door open for me to go through first.

I stopped in the middle of the room and waited for him to come in, setting the deadbolt. Gosh, he was so good-looking. His body was lean and long, his arms looked fantastic under his white shirt. Well, white with a couple small red dots on the chest. My sperm donor’s blood. Dex stopped just a few feet away from me, sliding his hands into his front pockets.

"Yeah." So simple. So honest.

"Why?" I cut the distance between us, stopping close enough so that I could slip my fingers beneath the band of his jeans. Warm skin greeted the backs of my fingers.

Dex reached up and pulled the elastic out of my messy bun. "'Cuz." He twisted the hair around his fingers, not watching my eyes. "I didn't want anybody botherin' you."

How the heck was I still standing?

"You think I want that douche-bag comin' around for you when your pa didn't pay up? Fuckin' asshole wasn’t even plannin’ on payin’ them back, babe."

I thought it was a little less him not remembering and a little more him just not choosing to remember. Dick head.

Dex's fingers made their way to my temple, the tips sliding down, down, down behind my ears and the column of my throat. "Don't like thinkin' about him wantin' you."

Him as in Liam.

Oh boy.

Everything in me that had been crushed and stomped on by my father's careless words and stupid actions, regenerated itself with Dex's touch and words. Slipping my fingers out of his jeans, I reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up enough to bare the lower half of his abs.

"I'll pay you back the rest of the money," I promised, slipping my hand up his shirt to palm the space between his pecs. "It'll take me a while but—"

Dex's hands cupped the top of my head, stroking me tenderly. "No."

"I'm serious. I promise I'll pay you back—"

"No," he repeated. "You aren't payin' me back a cent."

Discomfort tingled the back of my neck. I owed him for a lot of things, but almost ten thousand was too much. The last thing I wanted was for him to think that I wanted to take advantage of him. "I am."

"No. You won't. Ritz, look at me." I tipped my eyes up to meet his blue ones. "I don't give a shit about the money. I'll make more."

A groan vibrated through my throat. "It's too much."

His lips pulled into a grim line, eyes searching mine. He wanted to argue with me, I could tell. But he didn't. That beautiful face was tight. "You wanna pay me back? Enroll in school and take over all the accountin' for the Club and the shop, yeah?"

My mouth drooped. "That's not the same."

"I'm not sayin' for a few months or somethin', baby. I'm sayin' you take it over from now on," he clarified.

From now on.

Oh friggin' hell.

"Take it or leave it," he murmured, his mouth losing that tight vector. "Don't care one way or another."

This man. “It’s too much money. Way too much money, Charlie. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“You’re not, babe. I know you and you know me. Either take the offer or leave it, but I’m not takin’ any of your money. You got the rest of your life to pay me back by doin’ shit I don’t like.”

My rib cage clenched all of the organs and muscles within it. It pulsed, full of life and warmth and gummy bears and glitter. This was... I don't know how to explain it—it was like Christmas morning when you were a kid. It was everything I’d wanted since my dad first left, in a way.

And there was nothing better than that.

"It's a deal," I agreed with him in a breathless whisper.

Each of his thumbs curved over the shells of my ears. "That's my girl."

His girl.

After all the crap that I'd gone through today, there couldn't have been three better words to hear.

Well, there were three other words I'd like to hear but I'd take these from him. That didn't mean that he was the only one who knew how to give. He'd given enough. My bones and heart knew that there was nothing for me to fear. I loved him and sometimes there were consequences of it that were scary, but it—the emotion itself—wasn't. I knew that now.

What kind of life was I living if I let my fears steer me? This was a gift I’d forgotten to appreciate lately. For so long I’d been happy to just be alive but now...now I had Dex. I had my entire life ahead of me, and I needed to quit being a wuss and grab life by the balls. In this case, I’d take his nipple piercings.