Thrill Seeker (Kings of Vengeance MC Book 5) - Winter Travers Page 0,35

me? Where the bullets somehow meant for Point? Did the MC have something to do with it?

“The police will, Deedra. You gotta let them do their job. You’re not gonna go running around willy-nilly looking for whoever killed Joseph.”

“But he’s dead, Point,” I insisted. Why wasn’t this more alarming to him?

“Yeah, it’s a fucking miracle you’re not dead, Deedra. Do you realize how fucking lucky you and I are? They lit up the side of your garage like the fourth of fucking July. Three bullets hit not even a foot away from us.”

Each of his words slammed into me like a freight train.

“I…I know,” I stuttered. At least, I thought I knew. What had happened was finally hitting me. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, hell,” Point mumbled. He gathered me in his arms and laid back on the bed. “Why the hell are you apologizing, woman?”

“Because it’s all…I was the…He was there because of me.” A sob escaped my lips, and Point’s arms wrapped around me tightly. “What if this is all my fault?”

“Shh,” Point cooed. “This isn’t your fault, Deedra. He told us he messed up and was running from someone. That has nothing to do with you.”

But was that true, though? Maybe Joseph was trying to get information for me, and he got caught. “I don’t know why they had to kill him. Why?”

That thought was what I kept coming back to. Why did Joseph have to die?

He was so young, and even though he had a rough start to life, he was turning things around. He was supposed to move into his new apartment in two weeks, and he was actively looking for a job.

“You need to take a breath, Deedra, and relax. Right now, you aren’t going to be able to figure it out.” He brushed my hair from my face and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “The answers will come to light in the daylight.”

I sighed and relaxed into his arms. “He didn’t have anyone, Point. He came to me for help, and I couldn’t help him.”

“You’re not a miracle worker, Deedra. I know you’re trying to work your way through this, but you can’t blame yourself for what happened.”

Point was right, but I couldn’t keep my mind from running rampant with guilt. A wave of exhaustion settled over me. “Maybe I can sleep for a little bit,” I yawned.

Point moved his arms, rolled from the bed, and grabbed my foot.

“What are you doing?” I mumbled.

“Getting you undressed so you can sleep comfortably. You still have your shoes on, Dee.” He unlaced my sneaker and tossed it on the floor. He did the other one and then reached for the zipper of my jeans. “You want to sleep in that shirt?” He tugged off my jeans and dropped them on the floor.

“You never liked to put clothes in the hamper,” I grumbled.

“Shirt, Dee. You wearing that or want something different?”

I glanced at my dresser. The sweatshirt I had stolen from him three years was in the top drawer. “Top drawer.”

He already knew I had taken it—no reason not to wear it if he wanted me to be comfortable.

Point walked to the dresser and chuckled when he opened the drawer. “I knew you took it,” he laughed. He grabbed the sweatshirt and tossed it to me. “Put that on, thief, and let’s go to sleep.”

I tugged my shirt over my head and pulled the sweatshirt on. I managed to unhook my bra underneath and yanked it out the bottom.

“You’re gonna have to do that for me another night without the sweatshirt on.” He flipped off the light and climbed into bed.

I sighed and closed my eyes. Point wasn’t as affected by Joseph being shot as I was. He was worried someone who had been literally a few feet away from us had been shot, but he didn’t have any personal connection to Joseph.

“You’re safe with me, Dee. Go to sleep, and in the morning, I’ll try to solve all of your problems.”

I laid my hand on his bare chest. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Point. I threw you away three years ago, and somehow, I got you back.”

Would most men act this way? Hold me in the middle of the night while I cry over a kid as he promised to fix everything in the morning?

“You never lost me, Dee. We both needed a little time to figure out who we were.”

I laughed flatly. “I still don’t know who I am, Point.” I didn’t