5. Halo

Iwant to punch something.

No, I want to punch someone.

Preferably the douchebag of a husband Arianne has. Little thing is cute as a fucking button and doesn't deserve what he's done to her. I don't even care if she fucked his best friend in their bed—a man should never lay a hand on a woman unless it's the way her kink floats.

But the mosaic of colors, and now stitches, on her face steps way beyond that.

I push the image of her in my T-shirt from my memory because there's a piece of me that wants to keep her somewhere safe. Which is not here, not with this club, and not with me.

Spark steps out of his room. He's bent over while Lola clings to his fingers, doing the cute bob-and-wiggle walk she does. She's laughing, and I hear Iris joke about Spark looking like a croissant.

"Hey," I say. "Thanks for looking out for her."

Spark looks up, lifts Lola into the air, then hands her back to me. "Can I say something? Real talk?"

I nod. "Shoot."

"She's your kid now. I know, not biologically. But she's yours until you follow through on that plan to hand her off to someone else permanently. Iris is always going to say yes to you every time you ask. She's a kindergarten teacher, so of course she's going to. But she's thirteen weeks pregnant and fucking tired. It's okay that she's your plan B when you need some help, but you're treating her like she's your plan A."

"Spark," Iris says, coming to the door of their room in the clubhouse. "That's not fair. Halo's doing his best."

"Is he?" Spark asks, looking straight at me.

The wings of shame flutter in my chest. "I'll get it sorted. The woman who just came through here? She's Mercy's sister. Just met her. But hopefully I can get her set up to take on Lola."

"You think?" Spark asks.

"It would be good for her to be taken in by family, even if it's not you," Iris says. "But are you sure? I know it can be hard to look after family. I love my brother Michael to pieces, and, yes, he requires extra commitment and effort with all his needs. But that window of time when Uncle Cillian kept me from him was awful. And look how Clutch misses his brothers. Don't make decisions in grief that you can't undo later."

Spark puts his arm over her shoulder and tucks her into his side. I envy their dynamic. In the unthinkable event I were ever to take on an old lady, I'd want a woman I can really take care of. One who'll let me make decisions for both of us. Maybe it's all those years spent doing work where lives were lost if my team didn't do exactly as I ordered, but I find it hard to live my personal life in a world so wild.

More than that, my kinks lean to a woman needing me to do that for her.

Control makes my world make sense.

"Understood."

Spark steps back into his room, leaving Iris, who glances up at me apologetically. "I'm sorry."

"I got it," I reassure her.

When the door shuts, I look at Lola. "I'm really fucking this up, aren't I?"

She babbles in reply.

"Yeah. I think you're right."

She babbles some more, then punctuates it with a squeal.

"You don't need to be so rude about it," I joke, even as I wonder what she's saying.

I scan the room and find King at a table with Niro and Clutch. "I'm thinking of going to Dallas," I say to King when I reach them.

"Vex told me about your notion to go nomad. Permission is most definitely not given," he says.

I sit and place Lola on my lap. "Nah. Not nomad. But from all the intel Vex has been able to gather, Dallas is the epicenter of the Righteous Brotherhood. I'm thinking of going down there and asking some questions."

Clutch shakes his head. "They knew who your dad was on sight to kill him. They probably know what you look like. And don't give me the movie-makeover bullshit that you're going to cut your hair and dye it. You're too big, too noticeable, and have too many obvious tattoos to go undercover."

"Then let's send someone else. Why not Saint or even Switch?"

"I'll take it under consideration," King says. "I heard from Penny that the girl is Mercy's sister."

I nod.

"She going to take Lola?" Clutch asks.

"Depends. She's married to a wife beater. The girl's covered in bruises. No fucking way I'm sending Lola to live in that kind of environment. But if she wants help leaving the miserable fucker, maybe setting up around here, then yeah."

"Where's she staying?"

I shrug. "Didn't ask."

Clutch swigs from his beer bottle. "Where's her car?"

"Didn't ask that either."

King rolls his eyes. "She's technically Outlaw family. At a minimum, she's the aunt of a brother's kid."

Niro chuckles. "If you think about it, Mercy was the closest thing to Wrinkle's old lady. Which would make Mercy Halo's stepmom, which would make the girl Halo's step-aunt."

With the hand not holding Lola, I punch Niro in the shoulder. "Fuck off with the genealogy bullshit."

"Genealogy or not…it's probably on you to make sure she's taken care of," Clutch says.

"Fuck me. Why am I suddenly the lost property department for people?" I take Clutch's beer and swig from the bottle. "Anyway, I'm gonna take control of the situation. Get Arianne away from the wife beater. Put Lola into safe hands." Keep them both close by so I can keep an eye on them. On Lola…not them. Just Lola.

Then the solution comes to me.

"I'll let her stay at Dad's." I give Lola to King, who looks at me like I just handed him a turd. "It's all set up for Lola, and it was her sister's home after all."

"What am I supposed to do with her?" King asks.

I roll my eyes. "Just look out for Lola while I fill Arianne in on the plan. Back in ten."

When I get back to the medical room, Arianne is just sitting up as Switch washes his hands. I see the empty smoothie glass and feel better knowing she has some food in her stomach.

She looks up at me, eyes wide. Too open and too honest. I feel like she could read me if she wanted to.

"All good?" I ask.

"I'd prefer if she got an X-ray to be sure but understand why she won't," Switch says. He slaps my shoulder on his way to the door. "I'll leave you to it."

As the door closes behind him, the space suddenly feels too small for the two of us. One of the most valuable skills I had as a SEAL was the ability to read a room. To understand every vibration of tension, body language, and unspoken word. If I closed my eyes and let my fingers literally feel the air, I could tell which way anything was going to go.

And if I give in to that, I know I'll feel things between Arianne and I could go places they're not meant to.

"You got a place lined up to stay?" I ask bluntly, trying to change the energy I feel.

She shakes her head. With her hair back off her makeup-free face, she looks even more fragile. More in need of my protection. And young. Too fucking young. "I didn't have a plan beyond the funeral."

"Where's your car?"

"About a mile from there. The radiator went in a big cloud of steam."

"Fuck me, Arianne. No plan. Defective car. And a hike in heels to the ceremony. Cunt of a husband. You're a walking hazard."

She sighs and smiles sadly, looking down at her feet that are now covered in sneakers. "I forgot I switched into my sneakers to walk to the service. So, it's just no plan, shit car, and the husband I need to figure out."

My cock stirs. I love playing with brats. Sassy mouths. Pouts. Sulking and spanking.

"Where exactly is your car?" I ask, forcing myself to look at something other than her lips.

She pulls something up on her phone. A map. "It's here."

I lean close to look at the map on her phone. She smells good. Warm and sweet. Her pulse beats beneath the skin of her neck.

"I know the intersection," I say.

"There's a small lot off to the side of the road. I made it into there to park."

"Keys?"

"In my bag. My luggage is in the trunk."

This catches my attention. "Luggage?"

She gestures in front of her face. "This was because Patrick didn't want me to come to the funeral. Said my sister was a bad influence, even though I haven't seen her for a decade."

Which puts her at twenty-three. A decade younger than my thirty-three. Which makes me feel like a dirty fucker for the thoughts I had about her tits earlier. And the way I'm imagining those lips around my cock.

"You're leaving him?"

"If I said I don't know, would you think me pathetic?" she asks.

Eyes that are almost too big for her face look up at me expectantly, as if my answer matters. I can't help but reach out and touch her unblemished cheek. "Nah. I'd give you a high five for considering."

She holds my gaze for a moment and then looks away to the wall of the windowless room. "Like you said. No plan. I get paid soon, but I guess that's going to have to go to fixing my car instead of finding a place to rent and groceries. Do you know any cheap places I could stay tonight?"

"I have a suggestion that might help you out. Dad's house is empty until I can sell it. You can use it until then. It'll take some cleaning up because Dad and Mercy weren't particularly good housekeepers. Today was a lot. We'll get you some food. You can sleep. And tomorrow, I'll come over so we can figure out the rest."

Tears swim in her eyes. "That sounds really good, Halo. Wait, what's your real name? It's not really Halo, is it?"

"It's Jackson. Jackson Flynn. Everyone calls me Halo, or you can call me Jax."

"What's the ‘Halo' for?"

"My road name. High altitude, low open. It's a kind of parachute jump I like."

She studies me for a minute. "You like risky things, Halo. Parachutes. Being a part of this life." She taps my name patch. Her touch is soft.

"Some things are worth risking everything for."

A loud bang outside in the bar makes her jump, breaking whatever was just building between us. It's enough to remind me she's a married woman and the answer to my prayers when it comes to Lola; I need to convince her to stay, not scare her away by hitting on her.

"It's okay. You're safe here." Just to taunt myself, I lift her down from the table, but I do my best to hold her away from my body, because, honestly, one brush of those tits against my chest and I think the mild chub I have will turn into something a whole lot more noticeable.

"Wait, who paid for Mercy's funeral service? I should probably figure out how to repay them."

She needs her money more than I do. "I'm not sure. I'll ask around for you."

The trip to Dad's place feels a heap more familial than I want or am used to. First, I collect Lola from King, who is letting her play with the end of his empty beer bottle. Wouldn't have been my first health and safety choice. Then I load Arianne and Lola into my truck. A club tow truck follows us to Arianne's car, and we grab her luggage from the trunk. There isn't much, but I've got a feeling some of Mercy's things will fit her.

"Nice family," Switch teases as he hoists her car onto the tow truck.

I flip him the bird.

When I pull up onto the drive, Arianne is dozing, and Lola is utterly passed out asleep. Dad lived down a long track, so I crank the windows open a little and leave Lola asleep.

Gently, I give Arianne a shake. "Arianne, sweetheart. Wake up."

Her eyes flicker open, and she stretches her arms above her head.

Do I check out her tits? Yes. Because I'm a human being. But I try not to letch.

"Hey, we're here. Might seem a little isolated, but Clutch will work on your car tomorrow to get you mobile. Or you can see if you can find the keys to Mercy's car." I tip my head toward the garage.

She looks around and then gets out of the car, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist. "I'm not used to living in the middle of nowhere."

"It's safe enough."

Her eyes flick to mine. "Wasn't safe for your dad or my sister."

Fair. She has a point. I jog up the steps and use my key to unlock it like I have a million times. "I grew up here. You'll be fine."

But even as I step across the threshold, I get the same feeling of unease. For whatever reason, they missed Lola last time. But what if they come back? What if they come for Lola? Or Arianne?

The musty smell hits me immediately. Dad's house has been closed up for eleven days. After it was no longer considered a crime scene, I came to check on the place once.

Fuck me.

There are still bloodstains in the kitchen. I need to get a couple of prospects over here to clean the place up.

"Oh, shit." I hear Arianne gasp, and I turn to find she's followed me in. A sob escapes her as she presses her hand to her mouth.

Without thinking, I grab her to me, pulling her to my chest, turning her away from the stark reminder of death. Her body shakes as she cries, tears dampening my T-shirt.

I press a palm to the back of her head, fisting my hand into her hair, holding her tightly.

"Fuck this," I mutter and lead her out of the house.

"Where are…we going?"

"Someplace else."