Her black hair was in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, all glossy and shiny like a slick of oil on a hot day. But she looked pale. Tired. There were dark circles under her green eyes and lines of strain around her full, pouty mouth.
Yeah, even tired and stressed out, she was so fucking beautiful.
But then she always had been.
She didn’t look at me as she came around one of the ratty armchairs opposite the couch and sat down on it. In fact it seemed as if she was avoiding looking at me completely.
For a second I wondered what the problem was. Then I remembered.
The last time she’d seen me I’d been standing in the hallway with my dick in Hannah’s mouth.
Ah. Fuck.
‘So what went down with Justin?’ Cat asked.
She still wasn’t looking at me, her attention on my boots resting on her table.
For some reason I couldn’t figure out, I wanted to leave them there—which was stupid. She’d been through hell tonight with Annie and didn’t need me being a tool about putting my feet on her furniture.
But I didn’t move them.
‘Up here, kitten.’
Her gaze flickered up to mine, then away again. ‘Justin, Dane?’
Yeah, she really didn’t want to look at me. And the Dane thing... Second time that night. Definitely had something to do with that moment in the hallway.
I took another sip of my beer. I’d ask her about it after we’d cleared up the shit that had happened with her ex. No need for her to get weird about a fucking blow job, for Christ’s sake.
‘Looked like he was trying to make a run for it with Annie,’ I said. ‘When I got there he was putting her in his car.’
She was silent, looking fully at me this time, and I could see the panic in her eyes.
‘Shit. I knew he was going to try and pull something like this—I just knew it.’
‘Yeah, but that’s not all.’ This would be difficult for her, but she needed to know the truth. ‘He’s going to try for sole custody.’
She stilled. ‘What? He’s never wanted to before.’
‘Well, he’s serious now.’ I held her gaze. ‘He’s going after you with the big guns, too. Single mom. Shitty apartment. Biker boyfriend.’
Her eyes widened, then flared with anger. ‘No. Oh, fuck, no! He’s not using you. The prick!’
That’s what I loved about Cat. She always had my back. Always.
She shoved herself out of her chair, pacing angrily in front of the coffee table. ‘Why now? He hasn’t wanted this before. I don’t get it. And anyway you’re my friend—not my boyfriend.’
‘Yeah, but that’s how he’s going to play it. Fuck, if I wanted my kid, I’d tell every lie I could to get them back.’
She stopped and stared at me. ‘Not helping.’
‘Hey, that’s what he’s doing. I’m just telling it like it is.’
‘Well, don’t.’ She resumed pacing. ‘This is crazy. He’s doing it to hurt me. He doesn’t really want Annie—he never did.’
‘Why he’s doing it doesn’t matter. All that matters is how we stop him.’
She came to a halt again, her hands in fists at her sides. ‘Yeah and how the hell are we going to do that? He’s a lawyer. It’ll be his word against mine.’
That was the problem. He was a fine, upstanding member of the community. A professional. No one knew he was also an abusive prick. No one except me and Cat.
The thing was, I’d already had to stand on the sidelines once to watch him take out his anger-management problems on someone I loved. I wasn’t going to do it again. Still less when the person involved was a kid.
I needed to talk to Keep—see what he could do about the situation. He was friends with the police chief now, and that asshole was the chief’s son. He’d be able to work something out. After all I was Keep’s nephew, and he’d always told me that if I needed anything I only had to say the word.
I’ve never wanted to put anything on Keep—it wasn’t his fault his brother was the biggest asshole ever to walk the earth. But this wasn’t about me. It was about Cat and what she needed. And she needed something now.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll deal with it.’ I put as much authority as I could into my voice.
‘What do you mean, you’ll deal with it?’ she demanded. ‘How?’
‘Doesn’t matter how.’
‘Bullshit.’ Her whole posture was tense, almost vibrating. ‘Don’t give me that biker-secrecy crap—not when it involves Annie.’
I leaned forward, put my beer down on the table, then pushed myself out of the chair and came around the table to where she stood. Then I pulled her into my arms. She made an angry sound, putting her hands onto my chest and shoving, holding herself away. Her cheeks were flushed and she wouldn’t look at me.
She was pissed and, hell, I understood. She was trying to protect Annie and she wanted to know what was going on. Except I wasn’t going to tell her. Not until I’d worked it all out myself. Mainly because I knew she’d hate it.
Her mouth was a hard line, her body tense. It was difficult being close to her. Difficult having all that soft warmth against me. It made me feel guilty and it made me hard, both at the same time. Over the years I’d got better at hiding how I felt about her, but there were times when I couldn’t quite do it—and tonight the interrupted blow job only made it worse.
Cat’s familiar scent filled my head...a sweet, musky smell like jasmine and sandalwood mixed together. Fuck knew what it was, but it always made me feel good. Made me feel like I was home. Made me want to wrap her in my arms and hold her close, put my face between her breasts and inhale her.
A bad move.
Cat had never shown any sign that she wanted me and I’d never wanted to put our friendship at risk. It was too important to me and so was she.
So I told my goddamn dick to calm the fuck down and held her like I always did. Giving her comfort the way a friend would.
‘I know you’re scared,’ I said. ‘I know you’re worried. But let me help you and Annie.’
Her palms were resting on my chest and I could feel the heat of them settle right down through me, burning through my T-shirt and onto my skin. She was staring at them, and not at me, as if the backs of her hands were the most interesting things in the world.
‘I don’t want to involve the club,’ she said quietly. ‘Please, Smoke. You know how I feel about that.’
I did. But this wasn’t just about her. This was about Annie, as well.
‘Remember that the club hasn’t done anything to you. And if they can help Annie, isn’t that more important?’
‘It’s not... It’s not about Dad.’
Sure it wasn’t. Her father had been a biker and a nasty bastard. Like mine. Except her dad hadn’t beaten her half to death every time he got drunk. No, he’d been more the absent type—away a lot on club business and not much interested in anything else. Especially not the poor little rich girl he’d got pregnant or the daughter he’d fathered.
Anyway, I called it like I saw it.
‘That’s a piece of shit, Cat. And you know it.’
Her body tensed and she looked up at me, her eyes sharp as green glass. ‘This is about Annie, not Dad.’