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here because he’s making his first move. He’s being reckless. Perhaps I need to be, too.”
    “I think it’s a little late for that, right?” Soph eyes my blood-covered torso with what looks like regret. “I’m really sorry. I had no idea you were hurt. You know that, right? I would never have—”
    “Stop. I deserved it. We’re all good.”
    “Still. Launching myself at you like that—
    “Is part of the reason why I like you, Sophia. That fiery temper of yours is insanely hot. You looked like some wild Amazon, ready to skin me alive. I was halfway to a boner before you nearly killed me.”
    Sophia ducks her head, eyes skating over the floorboards, not looking at me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was embarrassed. “Maybe you should use me as bait,” she says abruptly. “At least that way, if my presence is somehow a catalyst for drawing Ramirez and Raphael out, then this can all be over. We could all go back to living our lives.”
    Laughter itches at the back of my throat. Scathing, ironic laughter. I swallow it back down. See, the thing Sophia doesn’t quite realize yet is that this is my life. When this is all over, if I’m not dead, there will always be someone else to contend with someone else to put down. Someone else who will want to take what is ours.
    I can’t tell her that, though. She’ll run for the hills, and despite my previous pathetic attempt at doing the right thing, I know now that it’s just not possible. I have plans for the girl sitting crossed legged on the floor by my bed. Big, awesome, scary plans. I’m going to keep my mouth shut about those, too, though. Right now, there’s only one thing I need to tell her.
    “I’m not endangering you with those men again, Sophia. No way. Not happening. There are a lot of things I’ll risk to end this. I’ll risk my own life, and the lives of my club members, if they’re stupid enough to volunteer them. I’ll risk my freedom and every last cent I own. I’ll risk the sun and the moon, and the wind on my face. But not you, Soph. I’ll never risk you .”

FOUR

    SOPHIA

    I don't know what to make of this crazy, infuriating, ridiculously hot man. He drives me absolutely insane. One minute he's inside me in a corridor at his father's house, the next I'm being shoved back into his cabin and I'm shut away for 10 days. The man doesn't even speak to me. I don't see his face. I receive no word from him whatsoever. And now, it seems as though he's back in my life again, albeit bloody, bleeding and broken, and I don't know what to make of it.
    The sun is pouring through the cabin windows, casting long shadows across the room, highlighting the dust motes swirling through the air overhead as I sleep on the bed beside Rebel. I didn't want to climb into bed with him, but the only other option was the couch and I've been uncomfortable and miserable for long enough now. Why the hell should I have to crash out on the couch? Besides, he's hardly in a position to do anything untoward at this point. The guy was practically dead last night.
    It can only be about six in the morning. Already though, I can hear motorcycles arriving and leaving the compound, the brisk snarl of engines startling the birds from the trees surrounding the cabin. I'm surprised it doesn't wake Rebel up. Mind you, he appears to be sleeping the sleep of the dead. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to accomplish the same feat.
    I had unwelcome dreams last night. I know it's messed up, but I haven't thought about Matt since the moment I decided to give myself over to Rebel back in Alabama. I spent the last year dating a guy and I haven't thought about him once. How crazy must I be? Matt was never as thrilling or exciting as Rebel, but he was nice-looking guy, made me laugh. He was safe . I feel like I'm doing him a disservice by completely forgetting about him like this. I mean, who does that?
    "You look like you’re plotting out the world’s end." I nearly jump out of