Without waiting for his answer, I ducked around him and headed for my bike before I remembered I was barely dressed.

  Like magic, Rubi appeared from the workshop with a pair of boots. He handed them to me without comment, eyeballing something over my shoulder.

  I didn’t look. I took the boots and stamped into them. Then I mounted my bike and roared out of the compound, knowing with every mile my bike devoured that Mateo was a heartbeat behind me.

  5

  MATEO

  I’d follow Embry into the sun. But I’d always be playing catch up because he rode that Tiger like a fucking psychopath.

  A crazy Cornish boy with a need for speed.

  Breakneck speed.

  While everyone else drank, fucked, and punched people, he did this: danced with death while I chased him down, praying he wouldn’t eat dirt before I got there.

  Lucky for me, and maybe for him, Embry was a badass biker. A racer, if his life had been different. He wasn’t gonna come off, which was just as well, considering he was dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, skin bare to the elements. To the road if he crashed.

  He won’t crash.

  I held onto that thought as we left the main roads and ventured into the coastal tracks. We gained altitude, hugging the cliffs, and I knew where we were going. What he wanted. And I was here for it. Embry was everyone’s best friend, but beneath the calm the rest of us sucked from him like vultures, he was the edgiest motherfucker I’d ever known. He needed this: the adrenaline, the danger. And for him, I’d push my bike and myself to the ends of the fucking earth.

  A few hair-raising hours later, we reached Embry’s version of Narnia: a deserted cliff face on the Newquay coast.

  He ditched his bike and waited for me at the foot of a steep path.

  I rumbled to a stop, legs shaky from the death ride he’d just led me on, and engaged the kickstand. Helmet off, the wind blowing in from the ocean hit my face, battling the summer sun for dominance. It felt fitting when I thought about Embry, which was every moment I didn’t need for something else. Add some rain and you had yourself a thunderstorm, and Embry was stormy as fuck right now. I saw it in every inch of him as he kept his gaze on the horizon.

  Leaving my helmet hanging on my handlebars, I abandoned my bike and joined him on the path. “We haven’t been up here since last year.”

  It was a stupid thing to say. Of course we hadn’t been up here. It was a near vertical climb to get to where he wanted to go, and he’d only started training again a month ago.

  Which led me to my next brilliant point that would probably make him want to push me into the sea. “It’s a long way up there. Sure you can make it?”

  He glanced at me briefly, his deep blue eyes more agitated than angry. Then he took off anyway, and of course I followed him.

  I liked heights.

  I liked danger.

  And I loved him.

  It was a damp day, but the rocks we used as handholds were sheltered by the angle of the cliff.

  Embry took off like a spider monkey.

  I followed much slower, but my hands and feet were just as sure. I didn’t know the route as well as him, but the terrain was familiar. The sights and the sounds. As long as I didn’t look up and lose myself in his acrobat’s agility, I was golden.

  Ten minutes later, we landed in the closest thing Embry had to a family heirloom—a cave built into the clifftop. There was a story about Grandpa Carter and a card game, but he didn’t talk about his family much, and I never pushed him.

  Couldn’t, could I? That shit was dangerous.

  Almost as dangerous as the last slithering slide into the cave, but we both made it.

  Out of the wind, a strange quiet settled over us. The cave was cosy and dry and scattered with old cushions and rugs.

  There was a camping stove too. Bottled water and lemon-balm teabags.

  I rolled closer and found a jar of coffee. “Does your cousin still come up here?”

  Embry was still catching his breath, leaning against the cave wall, eyes closed. He cracked them open, glanced at the coffee jar, and shook his head. “I brought that up here for you.”

  “When?”

  “Last autumn, maybe? I wanted to watch the storms up here with you, but it never happened.”

  Because club business had taken over our lives.

  Because the bastard trying to kill Cam had stabbed Embry first.

  Rage.

  Fuck that. Not here.

  I found the kettle and emptied a bottle of Highland Spring into it, keeping busy instead of asking him why it was me, of all people, that he wanted to do crazy things with. That he wanted me to sleep behind him, watching his back, while he hung off the edge like the rebel he’d been long before he ever became a King.

  He trusts you.

  Guilt filled my throat, a unique kind that tore me in two with no path whatsoever to redemption. It suffocated me. I couldn’t fucking breathe.

  Embry moved. In the small space of the cave, he had nowhere to go but pressed up tight beside me, our shoulders touching, his skin on mine. “Let me do that.”

  “Hmm?”

  He elbowed me away from the kettle. “Do you remember why I first brought you here?”

  Accepting defeat, I sat back, leaning against the wall and stretching my legs out. They still ached from the batshit-long ride yesterday, and I was knackered after losing the entire three hours I’d spent in Embry’s bed after to staring at him instead of catching some shuteye of my own. But I was buzzing too. We were alone every platonic, fraternal night I slept in his bed, but this was different. Up here, there was no club. No rules. No demons if we didn’t invite them in. “Where’s your phone?”

  “Didn’t bring it.”

  I pulled mine from my pocket and switched it to airplane mode. Then I shut out everything else and focused on his question. “You brought me here because you were worried I never escaped all the bad shit I do. Said I wasn’t allowed to think about killing people while I was up here.”

  Embry made a sound that could’ve been a laugh, but with his back to me, I couldn’t be sure. Since he’d been shanked, his sense of humour had been AWOL. Like he was right here, but somewhere else.

  The past pulled him back, remember? You had your chance to catch him and you fucking missed.

  I rubbed my lips, recalling that crazy kiss before I’d lost him to the horror story he’d blurted out that night. Sometimes, if I closed my eyes, it was only his lips on mine that haunted me. But that level of denial was hard to find. Impossible when he was right here in front of me.

  Embry poured water into mugs, rinsing them out before he made lemon tea and black coffee strong enough to strip paint.

  He handed me the coffee. “I didn’t say you couldn’t think about it. Just that you could consider this a place where you didn’t have to.”

  I clicked back into the real time conversation. “A murder-free bubble?”

  “If you like. Doesn’t have to be, though. We can talk about anything you want.”

  He’d always said that to me, and I’d fought hard to believe him. But I lost that battle every day I gave him only half of my bitter heart. “Brother, I’m talked out.”

  Embry switched off the tiny camping stove. Without its gentle hiss, the waves pounding below were the only sound in the shadowed cave. It was fucking strange to sit in the dark while the sun shone so bright outside. Arse backwards. But I didn’t mind it. If I’d been alone, I’d have caught myself a nap, but I wasn’t alone. I was with Embry, and I wasn’t wasting a moment to something as trivial as sleep.

  He crawled into the space next to me and sat down, legs bent, elbows on his knees. “I don’t think I’ve talked enough.”

  “About what?”

  “Anything. Everything. I try to forget about stuff, you know? Then it explodes out of me at the worst time, and I’m sorry about that.”

  I went still, blood slowing to a sludgy, acidic mud that ate me up inside, muscles turning to stone. “You got nothing to be fucking sorry for.” Comforting words, but I growled them, fury already swamping my veins. “It was my fault.”

  Embry scowled. “Nice try, but it was definitely mine. I always knew it would be like that, but I was out of my mind that night.”

  “Were you, though? I googled those drugs. Took me a while to read the article, but they shouldn’t have messed you up like that.”

  “I never said it was the drugs.”

  “Something else twist your melon enough to find me attractive?” I was going for humour, but even on a good day, it wasn’t my thing. My face didn’t have the right angles, not anymore, if it ever had.

  Embry had a smile like the full moon, wolfish and beautiful. But I hadn’t seen it since way back when. Fuck, I couldn’t even remember, and he wasn’t smiling now. His scowl turned epic, frown lines marring a face that sometimes seemed decades younger than mine. “It’s my head being twisted that won’t let the fact that I want you be the only thing that matters. How can you not know that?”

  His sudden temper hit me and I soaked it up far more than his words. I knew he wanted me. Always had. But it was easier to convince myself that he didn’t than accept the reality that we couldn’t be together without hurting him. That in three long years, we’d kissed once and it had brought us to our fucking knees.

  And to his bed every night since.

  Yeah. But I couldn’t sleep, at least, not well. Not with him beside me. What if I fucked up and rolled into him? Put hands on him in a way that destroyed him like the mere touch of my lips on his had that night?

  No.

  No.

  It couldn’t happen. So I said nothing and let him think I was a dense idiot. Let him get angrier and curl his hands into fists that were as battered as mine, his stormy gaze so bright and blue the summer sky outside didn’t stand a chance.

  Could I convince him to hate me? If it made his life better, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

  Do it now. Tell him the truth.

  Nah, man. I was too fucking weak. “Drink your tea, son. Simmer down.”

  I made myself watch the gulls wheeling in the sky instead of fixating on him. As if I could ignore his sharp, raging breaths. His frustration at another disjointed conversation.

  “Did you have fun in Porth Luck?” he asked suddenly.

  “When?” The answer fell out before I caught it.

  Embry’s gaze narrowed, pinning me in place. “The two nights you’ve been gone. Banging that girl, right? With the hair?”

  I nodded, slowly buying time to calm my racing pulse. “Yup.”

  “What’s her name?”

  Fuck, I had no idea. I’d stepped on her foot on purpose. So she’d turn and talk to me, and I could flirt with her enough to make my brothers believe we’d hooked up. I forced a sheepish smirk. “I didn’t ask.”

  “You fucked a girl for two days without knowing her name?”

  “We weren’t fucking the whole time. Man needs sleep too.”

  Embry snorted. It was a council joke that I slept even less than Saint. That I kept Dracula hours, watching over my kingdom while the rest of them laid their heads down. Truth was, I didn’t have the fucking time to sleep much. Or the peace to find that magical place where dreams were sweet. So I didn’t bother. I stared at Embry instead, losing myself in his blacker than black hair and high cheekbones. His lean muscles and tattooed skin.

  Silence fell over us. Up here, where he felt safe, it was quiet moments like these that he sometimes forgot himself and leaned on me. Dropped his head on my shoulder and fell asleep. Best days of my life, but he wasn’t in the mood right now, I could tell. He drank his tea, then tossed the enamel mug aside, expelling a breath that seemed to echo around the cave.

  “I fucked this up.”

  I blinked, dazed. “What?”

  Embry blurred. Then he was above me, knees planted either side of my hips. Straddling me.

  Fuckingfuckingfuck.

  I opened my mouth.

  He sealed it shut with his lemon-scented palm. “I lied to you about the murder-free zone. It’s not why I brought you up here that time, or any time after that.”

  He’d have surprised me less if he’d hit me. I stared, chest rising and falling too fast, fighting to keep my hands to myself. That’s where he was going with this? A confession that would break my heart all over again?

  I squirmed beneath him, needing air, needing out.

  He let his hand slide away. “I wanted you to fuck me up here.”

  La hostia. “But—”

  “I know. I know, okay? I’m a fucking mess. I just—” Embry brought both hands to his head, pressing his palms to his skull, his fingers tangling in his thick hair. “Before I took that blade, every moment I spent with you was something else . . . I can’t explain it. This thing in my head, I know I’ll never be free of it, but I kept dreaming of that moment, with you, when it would disappear, and we could be together, like you are with all those fucking girls. Fuck.”

  His hands moved to cover his face. He dropped his head and the weirdest sensation of distraught privilege washed over me. Embry was all up in everyone else’s business, but no one saw this side of him.

  No one but me. “Em.”

  “Don’t be nice to me.”

  “Why not?”

  Embry dropped his hands. He looked tired, but it wasn’t a physical thing. It was soul-deep, and it outgunned me to a man. “I don’t deserve it. And it’s weird. You’re not nice to anyone else.”

  I swallowed bile as it bubbled up my throat. “I’m nice to Saint. And Ivy, and she told me I’d better be nice to her dad while we’re away or else, so . . .”

  “You’re a shithead to Rubi.”

  A scowl creased my ruined face before I could stop it. Of course, I was a nasty cunt to Rubi. He got to put his arms around Embry without a second fucking thought. To sleep in his bed without worrying he’d pop wood and fuck everything up.

  I hate him.

  As if. I loved Rubi. He was the protector I’d never had. The big brother Embry deserved. I was just jealous—So. Fucking. Jealous—and every time I saw his warm and honest face, it took everything I had not to put my fist through it. “I know I was a dick to him today. I need a new method to distract myself from wanting to murder him.”

  “What was your old method?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  Embry leaned forward, killing me in ways he’d never understand. “I always want to know. Tell me, please?”

  I wanted him to beg me for other things. Sordid things. Filthy things. But it was never gonna happen, so I gave him the truth. “Last time he pissed me off, I googled Alexei to calm myself down.”

  Embry’s inky brows shot up. “What did you learn?”

  “That I can’t read Russian any better than English, and not to google Alexei.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “I never promised you one.”

  A playful glower took over his face. Nosy bastard. But in this, he’d have to kill me for real before I told him. Alexei’s story wasn’t mine to share, and he knew it. “Damn you and your morals.”

  “I have no morals.”

  “Liar.”

  Mentiroso.

  I shivered.

  Embry reached out and gently tweaked my chin. He had smaller hands than mine, but they were every bit as roughed up and calloused. “Relax,” he whispered.

  Then he let his hand drop and it landed on my thigh, and he just . . . left it there.

  Relax. Was he taking the fucking piss?

  Also, he was vibrating with tension, so if nothing else, he was a gigantic hypocrite.

  Though I could live with that. Feeling calm around Embry was a hard-fought battle, but I won it every day now I knew the stakes—that I’d lose our blurry, undefined friendship if I didn’t keep a lid on my shit.

  And hey, it was a big box of shit. An old box of shit. Who cared if it got heavier by the day?

  “I’m sorry.”

  Another whisper. I cleared my mind like jacked-up riot police had ridden through my brain and focused on him. On the tremor in his hand as he raised it from my thigh and let it hover so close to my face that I felt the heat of it. The intimacy that was as new to us as it was to me at all. We both fucked other people—me more than him—but I’d never been this caught up in a girl without throwing her down and banging her. A means to an end, but with him, it was everything.

  I took a chance and wrapped my fingers around his wrist, gentle, not gripping him tight the way I wanted to. “What are you sorry for?”

  “For messing with your head.” Embry let his hand complete the journey, his palm cupping my jaw. “I know I should let you go. Push you away, even.”

  “You think you could move me?”

  “Not at first, but you’d have to move on eventually. This . . . this fucking mess. Where does it end? Fuck, I don’t even know where it starts.”

  I did. It was three years ago—

  Cam roared into the compound, another bike at his back, but for once, it wasn’t Saint. And it wasn’t a Harley.

  The Triumph Tiger was noisy and fast. The rider was half a foot shorter than Cam and built like a gymnast.

  He pulled his helmet off.

  Black hair fell into his face.

  He pushed it back and glanced around. Eyes the colour of storm clouds met mine. The world shifted on its axis, and in that moment, every fucking part of me knew it’d never shift back.

  “You know it’s not you, don’t you?”

  I blinked. Embry was closer, his chest to mine, both hands on my face. Thumbs on my cheekbones. Fingertips on my scalp while I clutched his wrist. His legs still straddled mine, strong and muscular, even with the faint tremors wracking his entire frame.

  He’s scared.

  I hated that so fucking much. “You don’t have to explain yourself. Not for me.”

  More spiky emotions vibrated through him. “What if I’m doing it for me? What if I don’t understand this as well as I think I do?”

  “I don’t know, Em. I’m not clever like you.”

  He didn’t like it when I called myself stupid. It made him throw books at me and dissect my fucked-up brain for hours and hours over a half-ounce bag of banging weed.