More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
These men, perfectly imperfect, compelling specimens of the ultimate alpha male who eschewed all judgments that were not his own? These men were my kryptonite and my family. So was it any wonder I grew to love one of their own? Maybe love isn’t the right word. I didn’t know him well enough for that. Obsession, probably, was more fitting.
He was a loner, but comfortable in company, charismatic in a quiet way that didn’t draw too much notice. I’d seen him make Cressida laugh when she was grieving for her lost husband, and I’d seen him touch his rough tipped fingers to the crown of Z and Lou’s little girl, Angel’s fair curls, as if anointing her with his protection, a knight in service to her since birth.
“You’ve got your daddy’s money,” he pointed out, hoping to cut me with the reference to my deplorable deceased father. I smiled prettily at him, leaning in close up on my tiptoes because I was short even in heels, and he was taller. “Brett? You mention his name again, I’ll show you why I wore this costume to be ironic, okay?”
“I thought death would be harder,” I admitted as my head lolled against his arm, my mind spinning in the confines of my broken skull like loose marbles. “Oh, it is,” he agreed. “You aren’t dying.”
“I know about death. I won’t let it take you.”
I stared up at the man who was not Death, but my savior, watching as flames exploded behind him so his head was cast in a fiery halo. Not Death. Priest McKenna. The Fallen MC’s ruthless enforcer. The man without a heart. Kneeling over me like a knight pledged to serve me, to keep me safe from all harm.
