“Was gonna let it lie, seein’ as your head’s f**ked up, but you keep fightin’ me, had to point it out,” Hop returned.

Okay, I was beginning to feel less terrible and more annoyed.

“I’d like to request that you stop telling me my head’s f**ked up.”

“Let me help you get it straight, I’ll quit tellin’ you that shit,” he retorted.

I clenched my teeth.

Then I unclenched them to say, “Hop, I keep telling you that isn’t going to happen.”

“And Lanie, clue in, I’m not not gonna let it happen.”

My heart started beating hard and I brought us full circle.

“Who’s Benito?” I asked.

“Told you, you know as much as you’re gonna know about Benito.”

“Who’s Benito?” I repeated.

“Babe—”

“Who’s Benito?”

“Lanie—”

“Who’s Benito?”

His brows drew together. “Goddamn it, lady—”

All of a sudden loud and shrill, I shrieked in his face, “Who’s Benito?”

Hop went perfectly still on top of me but his eyes grew intent, watchful, concerned as his fingers flexed into my jaw.

“Who’s Benito, Hop?” I asked.

“Baby, please, breathe deep, calm down and let’s be quiet a few seconds. You calm down, I’ll get us some coffee and we’ll talk.”

“Answer my question,” I demanded.

“Lanie—”

“God!” I shouted. Unable to roll him off, I scooched up, shoved out and, miracle of miracles, found myself free so I scrambled across the bed.

Hop reached for me but stopped when I did, on my knees in his bed a few feet away from him. Without hesitation, my hands went to his tee and yanked up. I tossed it aside so in his bed he saw nothing but me in a pair of teeny-weeny, black lace panties.

I didn’t hesitate to reach out and grab his wrist, pulling it to me and flattening his hand to the scar under my breast.

I leaned in and reminded him, “I had a man, Hop, who did dangerous stuff and didn’t tell me.”

Realization dawned clear in his features. He adjusted, coming to his knees, his eyes glued to me. They were pained, troubled, disturbed, and I noted this as he whispered, “Lady.”

I jerked his hand down to the mutilated skin on my belly.

“Wanna guess how big I am on letting any man in my life and then wanna guess again how big I am on letting in a man who lives dangerously?” I shook my head and didn’t give him a chance to speak. “Don’t bother. I’ll tell you.” I pressed his hand into my flesh. “It is not gonna happen.”

He shifted closer, his free hand moving to my hip and around. I felt his body heat as he gently pulled my chest toward his and his chin dipped down to keep hold of my eyes.

“I don’t live dangerously, Lanie,” he said softly.

“Who’s Benito?” I repeated yet again.

His mouth shut and his jaw clenched.

I closed my eyes and turned my head away.

He forced his hand out of my hold and brought it up to wrap around my jaw, forcing me to face him so he could again capture my eyes.

When he accomplished this task, he said quietly, “I would never let anything hurt you.”

My reply was not quiet. “I don’t believe you.”

“Give me the chance to prove it to you,” he requested.

“No,” I answered. His hand slid from my jaw, up and back so his fingers sifted in my hair even as his face dipped super close, his eyes scanning my features before locking to mine.

“Lanie, baby, I can see what you can’t. This shit is eating you alive.”

“Good. At least that shit is company,” I snapped and watched him wince.

He recovered and stated, “You gotta get rid of it. Let me in. Let me help you get rid of it.”

“Not a chance.”

His hand slid back into my hair, fisting gently, and I knew what that meant.

He was not going to let me move. He was not going to release my eyes.

I would understand why when he admitted, “Last night, you didn’t hear me.”

This came out of the blue, surprising me, so I asked, “What?”

“I know the story. Fuck, babe, everyone does.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You put yourself in front of him. Boy that drilled holes in you, that the cops found, thought he could lessen his sentence by sayin’ you weren’t the target. He didn’t go there to hurt you. Wasn’t gonna touch you. Certainly not pump rounds into you. Says, first, you threw yourself in front of Belova and then, second, Belova used you as a shield.”

At his words, I jerked violently in his arms.

This got me on my back with him on me, his hand still in my hair, his eyes still imprisoning mine.

“Not that that shit is ever f**kin’ gonna go down again, but luck turns sour. If it does, no way, babe. No way would you be my shield.”

“Get off me,” I hissed.

“No way would I let you put yourself in the path of a bullet for me.”

“Get off me!” I snapped.

“No way I’d let you put yourself in the path of anything for me.”

“Get… off!”

He didn’t get off.

He kept right on talking.

“That’s the point I’m tryin’ to make. If you don’t know shit, you don’t feel shit. You breathe easy if you take a chance on me. What I do, I do. What the Club does, it does. You’ll learn to trust me, the brothers, Tack. I don’t use you as a shield. I am the goddamn shield, and I’m not talkin’ about bullets because shit like that does not touch old ladies. Ever. I’m talkin’ about ass**les with monster trucks. I’m talkin’ about Club business, life, every second you live, every breath you take. You take a chance on me, your biggest worry is your 7Up fizzing over.”

“You can’t promise that,” I told him.

“Yes, I can,” he told me.

“You think Tack promised that to Tyra before they took her and stuck her until she almost bled to death?”

His face got soft and his voice was cautious but tender when he returned, “I think you don’t wanna go there since it wasn’t Tack who got Tyra stuck.”