30. Sage

Lyla's warm chest presses against my back. She heats the space around me while the cool air whips at my face. Her fingers grip my leather jacket as she wraps herself tighter around me. And on this straight shot of road, I drop my hand to her thigh and rub my palm along it.

She feels like she's always belonged right here.

On the back of my bike and against my skin.

I'm not a man of faith. I don't read the stars like she does. I don't believe in horoscopes or fortunes. But there's no peace unless Lyla is beside me, so that's got to mean something.

The road is nearly empty this far outside the city, and I take a turn before we hit the main highway back to LA.

Lyla rests her head against my back, sinking against me. Her hands rub over my stomach, and I squeeze her thigh, rolling the motorcycle to a stop.

When I cut the engine and hold my hand out, she takes it, and I climb off after her.

"What are we doing out here?"

"Taking a minute." I slip off my helmet and hang it from the handlebars before reaching for hers.

The moment I pull it off, her black hair sticks out in all directions from the static. She smooths her fingers over it, but like her, it's impossible to tame.

"Why didn't you wait for me to take you to the clubhouse?" I ask, setting her helmet aside.

She tucks her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, squeezing it closed. "The same reason you found Kane before coming to find me."

"Still, I can't keep you safe if you run off."

"Even with this?" She rubs the choker.

Hooking my finger under it, I pull her closer to me. "This doesn't actually do anything except tell me where the fuck you are. It doesn't stop someone from hurting you."

"And who wants to hurt me, Sage?" She tips her chin up. "The man responsible for killing Ellie?"

My teeth clench, and she shakes her head.

"Yeah, booze makes people talk; I heard what they were saying. You lured me out because whoever was responsible for taking us back then has returned, right?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do." She shoves my hand aside and takes a step back. "Lying to me won't keep me safe."

"You think I don't know that?" I grind my teeth. "Trust me, you don't want to know all the shit I do."

"What are you protecting me from? I was there, Sage. I know what they're capable of. Still, you think I can't handle it?"

"I don't know if you can." My voice raises, and I hate that it makes her jump, but she's asking for shit she doesn't understand.

I'm not even sure why we started fighting, just that there's so much shit between us, that each time one of us pulls out a shovel, we unearth a whole new pile of crap.

"Well, for your information, I can handle it." She faces off with me. "I've handled more than you can imagine these past eight years."

"Lyla—" I wipe my hand over my face, then take a step toward her, grabbing her chin. "I don't want to hurt you."

She wraps her hand around my wrist, taking a step closer. "Then don't lie to me."

She doesn't know what she's asking for. But her violet eyes blink up at me, almost a shade of blue in the darkness, and I can't fight her anymore. I'm tired. I'm over it. And the more she hates me, the more I hate myself.

"A couple of nights before you showed up at Twisted Roses, Kane got a message on his doorstep." I brush my thumb over her lip. "One of his prospects, dead. He had a message carved on his chest. And—" I swallow hard, my words drying in my throat.

"Just say it."

"And Ellie's ear in his pocket."

Lyla blinks, her eyes glossing over at my words.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?"

She wets her lips and presses them together, nodding once.

Lyla still hasn't told me all the details of what happened in the basement before I got there, but the way her breath hitched when I told her about her sister's ear said a lot more than shock. Her mind drifted and her eyes glazed. She went somewhere in her memories I can't ask her about because I think she remembers how Ellie lost it.

Grabbing her by the waist, I pull her to me. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"I know."

"But you have to trust me this time."

She blinks a tear free, and I wipe it from her cheek. "I know."

"Do you?"

I might not be able to keep it together if she says she doesn't, but I need to hear it from her lips to believe it.

Lyla grabs the front of my leather jacket, her thumbs grazing up and down. "I trust you."

Three words.

It takes a moment for my brain to process them as she blinks free another tear. She looks up at me, and her hands on my chest might as well be peeling me open. She puts back my heart—my soul. Eight years after she took them both.

"I trust you," she says again, sealing the promise.

Dipping my mouth to hers, I can't resist the need to make us one. To feel her tongue graze my lip and her teeth clash with mine. She's sweet enough to make my teeth ache at the taste of her. Her nails dig into my leather jacket as she pulls my body flush to hers, and she's putty in my hands.

She moans at me deepening the kiss and that sound begs the beast to the surface.

I've had her. I claimed her.

She was mine all those years ago, and she's mine now.

Spinning her around, I angle her so she's facing my bike with her back to my chest. I hold her by the throat and force her body flush with mine.

"You trust me?" I ask her again.

Maybe I just want to hear it. I didn't know I was starving for those words until she said them and now, I'm desperate.

"Yes," she whispers.

"Then stop fighting me." I nip at her ear.

She moans as my teeth sink in again. "You like it when I fight you."

"And you like it when I make you submit." A growl rolls up my throat, and I release her to grip her hair and bend her over my bike.

Her nails dig into the leather seat as I grind my hard cock against her.

Reaching around, I undo the zipper of her jeans and pull them down her hips, trapping her legs together at her knees. With my palm pressing the center of her back, I run my fingers between her legs.

"Are you going to listen to me now, butterfly?" I drive two fingers into her tight heat, and she's already soaking my hand.

Lyla glances over her shoulder and smirks before I fuck her harder with my fingers and her eyes roll back.

"Maybe." She moans when I pull my fingers out.

"I think you will." Reaching for my pants, I undo them in the front, pulling out my aching cock and stroking it with my hand.

A drop of cum drips onto her ass, and I rub the head of my dick over it. I'm going to paint every inch of her skin until I'm the only man who can claim it. And the more she fights us, the more I'm going to make her mine.

I run my cock through her soaking slit, and I want to drive in—to feel her pussy squeeze my bare cock and clench around me. It takes everything in me to reach for my back pocket, pull out a condom, and wrap my shit up.

That's going to happen, but not tonight.

Once more positioning myself at her core, I apply pressure. "Ready to listen yet, Lyla?"

Her fingers grip the leather as I push just an inch, and she nods.

"Good girl." I grab her hips and pull her back at the same time as I thrust in.

Her pussy squeezes me so hard, my vision darkens. She wraps around me like her body was made to ride my cock, and I pull out to hit her harder.

Deeper.

Lyla's scream echoes into the night, and if anyone turns up this part of the road, they're going to see me fuck her. But I don't care as I grab the mounds of her ass and fuck her harder. As I make her scream for me.

Reaching around, I play with her clit, and her pussy tightens as she almost tips over the ledge.

But I need to see her—to look into those violet eyes as she comes apart. I need to see that she trusts me with her body and hope that someday it will mean she'll trust me with her heart.

Pulling out, she barely has time to groan with disappointment before I spin her around and start to strip her of her pants. They catch on her shoes and she almost tumbles over, which has both of us laughing as I throw those aside too, before picking her up and pinning her to a tree.

She reaches between us, desperate for my cock, grabbing the base and stroking it.

"Fuck, you're perfect." I groan against her lips.

"Because I let you fuck me like you're a wild animal?" She smiles.

"Because you're you."

Shoving my hips forward, I bottom out in her heat. She screams into my mouth, and I steal it with a kiss. I'm going to take every piece of her—body and soul.

And if she wants to call it destiny, that's fine. She's the girl who was made for me.

"Sage." Lyla tips her head back against the tree and screams my name. Her heels dig into the back of my thighs.

"Come on my cock, butterfly." I fuck her so hard she's barely breathing.

It's not enough, it's never enough. What she does to me is bigger than anything I can do to her. She's so deep in my bloodstream, she's a part of it, and I'm at the surface.

I fuck her as her pussy tightens and her entire body shakes. She pulls my cum out of me, and I want to fill her. I want to watch it drip down her beautiful legs.

I want to have nothing between us so there's no escaping us like there was before. Lyla might not see how she changes me, but I'm a shell of a man without her.

Pulling back, our breathing is unsteady as we press our foreheads together.

I want it all with this girl. The future she never gave us. The fate she promised me right before she took it away.

I want our destiny, even if it ultimately destroys us.