Risky and Wild(89)
“This is—I'm sorry—but your relationship is inappropriate,” Lyric's mother snips as Kailey makes a strange noise in the back of her throat. “I think you both understand that'd be best to end this before things get out of control. You can't just fall into … a fling like this and expect things to work out.”
“It wasn't like we were screwing ab initio,” Lyric says, and I can't help but grin. “We like each other.”
“Why is he even here?” Philip asks, giving me a scathing glance as he curls his lip in distaste. “I'm sorry, but I wasn't aware he was invited.”
“He's here,” Lyric starts, looking over at me. Still, I don't talk. Why bother? This is her club, her chapel, her chance to talk. “Because he's the only thing keeping the rest of us alive and safe.”
Sully snorts.
“Do you think the cartel would've put you in the hospital?” she asks and then a little more quietly. “Or take care of the men that broke into Kailey's house last week?”
“I knew it!” her sister squeals, falling silent as both her parents turn their gazes her way. “I knew it.”
“Sully and Brent set this all in motion, brought this attention up here. And now they have to pay for it. You have to tell the FBI the truth, Sully. It's the only way to keep us all safe. The Wolves aren't going to babysit you forever.”
“Your brother has nothing more to say to the FBI,” Philip snaps, pointing his finger at her like she's a petulant child. That's about the edge of my patience.
“Listen, Mr. Mayor,” I say, leaning forward with a creak of my chair. “But your daughter is the linchpin here, the one keeping the grenade that's stuffed up your arse from exploding. The Saldaña Cartel is moving their business to your city and with the help of your son, they've got a foothold with Mile Wide. Now that the little prat's betrayed them, he's made an enemy of a group that cuts off the heads of police chiefs for fun. They won't hesitate to get rid of your entire family.”
I stand up for emphasis, towering over the table like a monster in that neat and orderly little room.
“Now, I can wait around and watch to see if either Mile Wide or the Saldañas get rid of you. That man from the hospital, he's still in town.” It's a bluff; I don't know for shit whether or not Clint Woodrow is in town, but why not use him to my advantage? “Or, I can make sure that doesn't happen.” I lean over and curl my hands around the edge of the table. “If you agree to speak with the FBI, give them the story that Lyric advised you on—what's essentially the bloody truth—then I'll put a security detail on your house until this shit is taken care of. Take your pick.”
“Oh,” Lyric says suddenly, before any of her family gets a chance to speak up. She gets up and moves over to stand next to me. Before I even realize what she's doing, she's reaching inside my cut and unzipping the inner pocket. She pulls out the ring I gave her and slams it onto my empty dinner plate. “And Royal and I are getting married.”
Big smile.
“Guess you'd better start getting used to calling this outlaw son.”
“I cannot believe I just did that,” Lyric says, sitting on the edge of my bed with the dogs at her feet and absolutely zero blood left in her face. She's white as a fucking ghost. “I can't believe I said that—to my mother.” Those big, green eyes flick up to my face. “Did she pass out? I walked out of there so quick I couldn't see. She passed out, didn't she?”
“She threw her treacle tart at my face, yeah, but she didn't faint.”
Lyric threads her fingers through her hair, but I notice her gaze drops to my bare chest and sticks there. I lean in the doorway to the bathroom and brush my teeth as I watch her.
“This is … at least they'll keep it to themselves,” she whispers, sliding off the edge of the bed to put her arms around Lake's neck. The wolf pushes her body against Lyric's and then flops onto her side, tail wagging furiously. Not all that bloody dignified for a wild beast, is she? “And it's not like I have any fucking friends to tell.”
I turn around and spit into the sink, rinsing my mouth with a handful of water before I head back into the bedroom and pause in front of Lyric with my arms crossed over my chest. Alloy licks my ankles in a plea for attention.
“You want friends?” I ask with a grin, enjoying the pretty picture Lyric makes on my floor, her skin creamy and luscious against the royal blue of the sheets as she leans against the bed. “The club's got built-in friends. You've got that shopping trip with the girls tomorrow?”
A sigh as Lyric lays on her side, the shirt she borrowed from me sliding up her body and revealing that crazy sexy thong/skirt combo. Sex with this woman six, seven, eight times a day sounds about right. Anything less would be criminal.