Aiden Bates

“There’s nothing to deny,” I said.

“Denying his denial.” Raven nodded sagely. “Impressive.”

“I’m not denying it!”

“So you do love him?” Blade asked.

I threw my hands up. “I won’t be ganged up on like this. It’s not fair.”

I’d be left unmoored, completely adrift, if he ever decided to let me go.

Maybe it wasn’t just him I’d been protecting all these years when I was keeping my distance.

He was what I thought a cop should be: someone who wanted to bring whatever justice they could to the world. Someone who wanted to protect the vulnerable, not take advantage of them. If I’d known someone like Rebel back then, maybe what happened—wouldn’t have happened. I couldn’t change the past. But maybe I could have that someone now.

“All right, listen, I’m going to impart some serious club knowledge to you. There are three ways to a biker’s heart: His stomach, his dick, or his ride.”

“Oh, jeez. Well, I’ve got two out of three covered, I think.”

“Oh? Which two?”

“Not the bike.”

Raven cackled.

“I’m coming to get you. I’ve got a good idea.”

At least I’d gotten out when I did. Grace wouldn’t remember any of this. He wouldn’t be anything to her except a nightmarish stain on my past. She wouldn’t know his face, or his fists, or the terrifying way his voice carried when he was angry. I’d make fucking sure of that much.

To the Vipers, I was the elitist firstborn, the guy who got an unfair leg up. To my department, I was a Viper at heart, born into it, who could never truly be one of them. And to Hell’s Ankhor, I was an untrustworthy undercover agent.

As soon as the rest of the world seeped in, that’s when things got complicated. He couldn’t be a cop, and a Viper, and my friend… or anything else. And as long as I was a Hell’s Ankhor enforcer, I couldn’t be his either.

“You’re such an asshole.” Coop laughed.

My heart clenched. Now that I’d heard that sweet, musical sound so close to my ear, and felt the vibrations rumble over my skin, how could I live without feeling it again?

I didn’t know if I’d have the strength to tell him the truth of what I wanted from the future. But somehow, I suspected that laying myself bare for him like that would be way less painful than letting him go.

Raven’s face softened. His gaze flicked to my mouth. He squeezed my hand in return.

My stomach flipped. How did he do that? Make me feel like a teenager with just the smallest gestures?