I cringed. “Yeah, uh. We’re going to go to my place.”
“What were the plans originally?” Mal asked.
“Priest was on his way to find Xavier and beat his ass,” Gunnar said, appearing behind Blade with a smirk on his face. “Regardless of the club’s opinion on that.”
“I still want to,” I admitted.
Mal patted my shoulder. “Glad I caught you, then. That’d only make things worse.” His expression darkened. “Who knows what he’s capable of?”
“You don’t think I could take him?” I asked, half-teasing, half-serious.
“I don’t think he’d fight fair,” Mal said gruffly. “After all this shit he’s pulled, I don’t know what to expect.”
“All right,” Blade said. “As long as you’re not going to run off and chase him down.”
“Not right now, at least,” I said.
“I’ll take that,” Gunnar said.
I knew I’d be talking to the sergeants-in-arms about my almost-defection a little later, but for now, I’d take their grace—we all knew that Mal’s safety was the most important thing. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder, tugging him close as I led him down the path toward my cabin. Because that’s what I wanted, even more than I wanted to see Xavier brought to justice.
I wanted Mal close.
21
Mal
The grainy, green-tinted video stopped playing, ending on a frame of Xavier smirking up at the hidden camera. Before I could stop myself, I wound it back and played it again. Regardless of how many times I watched it, it never changed: same footage of me on my back, unaware I was being recorded, caught up in the sensation of fucking Xavier. Or Stefan, as I’d thought at the time. It just seemed so fucking ridiculous. What did he intend to do with this footage? Was it just to get under Priest’s skin? Not like he could blackmail me with it—this wasn’t something I needed to hide from the club, even if I hated for them to see it.
“God,” I said. “I can’t believe all this shit. Just from a single hookup at a club.”
“Kind of an argument for monogamy, huh?” Priest said from the kitchen as he fished out two beers from the fridge. Then he paused. “Not that—”
“Nah, I know what you mean,” I said, waving my hand dismissively. I knew Priest wasn’t advocating for us to be monogamous—he’d made it clear he was happy with our friends-with-benefits relationship, and I was, too. It was definitely easier than hookups. “This drama has put me off Stallions, though. That much is for sure. I am way too old to be dealing with this.”
“I’m sure they’re mourning the loss down at Stallions,” he teased. “First Jazz, now you? I bet they feel it in their finances.”
He sat down on the couch next to me and offered me a beer. I took it gratefully.
I used to be all about monogamy, way back in the day. Melanie had been the center of my world. When she’d left me unexpectedly to be a single father, I’d decided that I wasn’t going to put Dante’s—and my own—stability at risk again by getting into another relationship. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to trust again, not after Melanie had broken my trust so completely.
But that was thirty years ago. Dante had his own stability now, and I did too, in the club. And Priest was a big part of that stability. My commitment against commitment was obviously coming back to bite me in the ass. What was the point of keeping myself so alone now? What was stopping me from turning to Priest, letting him know what I was thinking?
What was I so afraid of?
Still, something held me back. I grimaced at the video.
“We both know that’s not why he’s obsessed with me. He’s just fucked up. And I’m humiliated.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe he sent that to you. I’m sorry—sorry you had to see that.”
I couldn’t imagine how Priest must’ve felt seeing it. I would’ve been disgusted. Watching it, I couldn’t believe I’d ever enjoyed sex with Xavier—but I had. I’d wanted him, at least physically. And my expression in the video was proof of that.
“Hey,” Priest said gently. He took the phone out of my hand and put it aside, forcing me to stop watching the video. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“I’m the reason all this is happening,” I said. “I never should’ve fucked around at Stallions.”
“You’re not the reason,” Priest said seriously. “He is. None of this is your fault.”