Dark Guardian (Black Hoods MC #3) - Avelyn Paige Page 0,21
should’ve pressed that man further.” I mutter away to myself, trying to work it all out while totally forgetting I hadn’t planned on telling Aaron about my little adventure into the strip club a few days ago.
Aaron’s body grows still. “You talked to them?”
“I might have,” I answer sheepishly.
I listen for the ringing bell that should be dinging, because this dinner is about to go DEFCON now. Aaron has always been protective of me, but I haven’t exactly thrown myself into the lion’s den of danger with a group of men like the Black Hoods before. It’s a first for us both, and the way he’s staring a hole through me right now tells me all I need to know about how he feels over my little folly.
“After everything I told you about them, you still went there? They could have killed you, Grace. Those men, that group. They don’t care who they kill, as long as it serves their purpose.”
“I don’t even know why I followed them into that strip club, but I did.” Lord have mercy, mouth. Connect with my brain already. If I could facepalm myself right now for my lack of a verbal filter, I would. Why did I tell him that too?
“A strip club? Jesus, Grace! What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t, but I had to find that man.”
“I don’t like this,” he declares. “You’re obsessed with this case. I knew you were one hundred percent dedicated to your job, but this,”—he waves his hands in front of him—“this nonsense will get you killed. You need to leave it alone and let me handle it. Let anyone else handle it.”
Feeling scolded, I look down at the table, avoiding his gaze. “Those kids have no mother, no father. They only have me to look out for them.”
“Risking your life isn’t worth it. Not to the people who love you.”
Love. That word between us gives me an uneasy feeling. He can’t love me. He knows I don’t love him, right? It has to be the heat of the moment talking. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.
“Grace, you can’t be involved in this case. It’s going to get you killed. Don’t you see that?”
I finally meet his eyes. “That’s for me to decide, isn’t it? The last time I checked, I’ve never had a father in my life, and I’m not in the market for one now. I can make my own decisions just fine.”
He stills at my tone, but his fermenting rage lingers on his face.
“You have a death wish if you think going headlong into that club is going to give you the answers you need. Those men are killers.”
“And yet, here I am in one piece.” He’s treating me like a child. Was it stupid to walk into that strip club without so much as a gun to protect me? Of course it was. But that gray-haired brute of a man needed to know that his club didn’t intimidate me. Nothing will stop me from protecting those kids. Not Aaron, and certainly not Eugene Grant and his band of bikers. I’m my own mistress, and there will be no fucking master, friend, or whatever he is, if he can’t support my decision.
Anger wafts off him in thick waves, and as his voice raises, more eyes peer over at us. He’s making a scene for the entire restaurant.
“Grace,” he growls. “Please, leave it alone.”
“No. End of story.”
Coming over with our meals, the server quietly places them in front of us as we both stew in our anger and frustration. I try to eat, but the longer I sit here, the angrier I get. When the server comes back by to check on us, I ask for a box. Aaron snaps out of his quiet rage, and something flashes in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before. He’s hurt. I’ve hurt him.
“You don’t have to leave on my account.” His tone says the opposite. He’s angry with me, but he’s trying too hard to mask it. I know he cares about me, but he has to realize there’s nothing between us. “Please, stay and eat your dinner.”
“I can’t, Aaron. After all of this, you know I can’t.”
Reaching for my purse, I grab a twenty and place it on the table to cover my half of the meal and wine. The server brings a box to the table and deposits my untouched meal into the Styrofoam container before handing it to me in the bag. I carefully place the