Chapter Three

JAGGER WALKED THROUGH the clubhouse. Music played over the speakers, but there was no movement in the building.

He stepped over an empty beer bottle. On the nearest couch, Brett held a half-naked woman on top of him. Both were asleep.

Pulling out his cell, he looked at the time—six o'clock.

He headed toward the hallway. The others would spend most of the day catching up on sleep after celebrating Cora and Wire's wedding. He'd use the time to rest. Havlin Motorcycle Parts shop was closed today and tomorrow and would open again on Monday.

The Havlin members running security could rotate without any reminders from him. Right now, he only wanted to wash off the road dust and stretch out for a few hours.

He opened his bedroom door and frowned. The light was on. His gut tightened. He scanned the room, stopping at the couch. Katrina.

Her presence in his room should've surprised him. But he would've been disappointed if she hadn't come looking for him.

As much as he needed to get her out of here and away from him, he couldn't help figuring out how to keep her hidden from everyone. He needed a minute. An hour. The rest of his life with her.

He exhaled quietly, letting her sleep, and removed his cell phone. He pulled up Bane's contact and typed a text. Where's Ruger?

His thumb hovered over the screen. He couldn't send it. He couldn't send her away. He couldn't call Ruger and have him come and get his daughter.

Shoving the phone in his pocket, he locked the door to his room. Wherever Ruger was, he'd let his guard down and had no idea where Katrina was.

Katrina's dad was probably in another room in the clubhouse, but he wasn't in the room. Ruger couldn't stop him from looking at Katrina.

He lowered himself to the floor, holding in the grunt that automatically slipped out whenever he had to bend his left knee, and sat beside her. Close enough to touch, he inhaled deeply, wishing he could pick up her warm body and hold her against him.

Facing him, she had her legs curled toward her chest, hugging his pillow. Her hair lay tousled underneath her head and hung over the edge of the cushion. He lifted the dark strands and rubbed his thumb over the silky texture.

He brought the strands up to his nose. The flowery scent of her shampoo still clung to her.

Katrina's eyelashes fanned her cheeks. In her sleep, there was always a calmness to her. A serenity that never showed up during the day when she was awake.

The girl had fire in her veins.

His chest tightened. His mom raised her to be a survivor. But he knew another side of her.

Despite how tough it was for Katrina growing up, she was passionate about the club's strict rules. She craved the staunch loyalty of the people surrounding her. She needed the hardcore proof that people weren't going to leave her.

She needed unconditional love, and he was the only one she allowed to give her that.

For how close she was to his mom, she continually guarded herself, afraid she wouldn't be perfect enough for Mama Sue and would lose the one woman who devoted her life to her.

She loved Ruger and would fight to the death for her dad, but she woke up each day wondering if her dad was going to leave her again. Her insecurities were deeply hidden behind a wall of toughness.

Whether it was her mom abandoning her at birth or her dad going away to prison for most of her life, Katrina only gave her trust to one person. Him.

And he'd done her dirty.

He wouldn't have to look at his phone to see if time was dwindling. Ruger would come looking for his daughter. For his sake, his MC brother couldn't find Katrina in Jagger's room.

But damned if he wanted to let her sleep so he could sit beside her and watch her. Just for a bit longer.

He dragged his gaze from her full lips and collided with a warm and sleepy gaze the color of his favorite malt.

"Jag," whispered Katrina. "You came back."

As soon as the words left her lips, alertness returned to her eyes. She sat up and tossed his pillow to the other end of the couch.

"What the hell?" She stood, stumbling over his legs as she tried to put distance between them. "Are you just going to sit there and stare at me while I sleep?"

She wiped her hand across her mouth, scowling at him. Back on even ground, he pushed to his feet, unable to keep the grunt of pain from escaping.

"You're not supposed to be here." He stretched to his entire six foot four inches. "Ruger followed you."

"Figures." She shrugged. "My dad's a free man. He can do what he wants."

"Are you pointing him at me?" He refused to let her get away with arguing with him. "You, of all people, should know he'd rather kill me than find out what you're doing here."

She blew out her breath and approached him. He hardened in anticipation of her touching him, but she leaned over and scooped up one of her sneakers she'd kicked off in her sleep.

Bringing up her foot, she slid on the shoe and tied the laces. She walked around the couch and found the other shoe, dipping her head out of view. When she popped back up, she gathered her hair and looked around the room. The habit was so familiar to him that his gut ached from missing her. This was his room in Seaglass Cove. She'd never been here. There were no elastic bands for her hair that she'd left behind. There was no bandana for her to tie around her head. Nothing of hers to remind him of what he'd lost.

She let the mess of hair fall around her shoulders. "I would never sic my dad on you. You know that."

"Why did you come?"

"Because I have an aunt who I've never met before. A blood relative who I had no idea even existed before two weeks ago when my dad gave me the news." She scoffed. "Now, there's three of us in the Albright family."

"How long are you staying?"

"As long as I want." She looked around, patting the back pockets of her jeans. "I lost my phone."

He shoved his hands between the couch cushions and found her cell in the corner. Holding the phone out, he waited until she stepped closer and then hooked her neck with his other hand and brought her forward, claiming her mouth.

Her lips remained firm. He grabbed a fistful of hair and bent her head back until her mouth opened, and he thrust his tongue in.

Her deep moan vibrated his lips. He sampled what he'd already had. The craving to taste every inch of her grew.

His heart pounded. There was only one thing that came before Havlin Motorcycle Club, and that was Katrina.

But having her would get him killed. Maybe not today, but when his guard was down. When his men were preoccupied. Ruger would lay down his punishment.

It was easy to say he'd kill Ruger and get him out of the picture. Nothing would stop him from having Katrina with her father gone.

But killing Ruger would destroy her. In the end, he couldn't do it to her.

His heart pounded. He owed Ruger, and that's a price that outweighed everything.

He pulled back, panting hard, and stared into her eyes. She was deadweight in his arms, not even attempting to stand up on her own.

He grabbed a handful of hair at the base of her neck and pulled her to a standing position. "Get out of here."

His voice was more a growl of protest than an order. Her taste was on his tongue, coating his lips.

Her gaze flickered side to side as she stared him in the eyes. He watched the moment she snapped back to her senses.

Katrina's hand came up. He caught her wrist before her palm met his face. She knew better than to lay a hand on him.

She jerked her arm, trying to break free. He refused to let her go.

Toe to toe with her, he could feel the warmth coming off her thighs against his legs. He bent her arm, placing it behind her back, and then pulled her even closer until her breasts flattened against his chest.

"You're going to get me killed." He kissed her hard.

He pushed her away before he could toss her down on the couch and do what he wanted with her. The phone in his pocket vibrated, barely distracting him.

He pulled the cell out of his pocket and connected the call without taking his gaze off Katrina—letting her know not to make a sound. No one could find out she was in his room.

"Ruger's pulling up outside," said Bane.

"Where are you?" Jagger's gaze dropped to Katrina's breasts, lifting and falling as she breathed out her frustration with him.

"At the back door."

"Give me thirty seconds." He disconnected the call, grabbed Katrina's upper arm, and led her to the door. "Run to Ruger. He's looking for you."

She hesitated, tottering on the toes of her feet. He opened the door.

Katrina grabbed his vest, kissed him hard, and sashayed into the hallway as if she'd been thoroughly fucked. Ruger was going to look at his daughter's rumbled clothing and know she spent the night in one of the rooms and the first person he'd hunt down was Jagger.

The smart thing to do was close the door and pretend she hadn't been in his room. But he had always lost his mind when it came to Katrina.

He stepped into the hallway and shut the door. There was no way he would let Ruger take his anger out on Katrina.