Everything about her is impossibly soft. Her skin, her hair, her lips. How does she do it? She's soft but not fragile. This girl has been through some shit, but looking at her you'd never know it.

When she stepped into the shower it took everything in me not to be just like all those other men who hurt her. Covered in the blood of an enemy, watching her skin pebble, seeing her eyes on my cock, it stroked something primal in me. Like a call to mate.

I couldn't do it though. Her body responded to me, but she had already been through so much. It wasn't the right time.

She's finally calmed down. My hand rubs up down her smooth back, through her shirt I can feel the tiny bones in her spine and ribs. Laying on her side, she faces the windows that leads out to the backyard. Settling in behind her, her steady breaths lull us both.

"Pres?" I hear ten minutes after I fall asleep. Cracking my eyes open, light filters in through the split in the curtains. It's Rod.

"What the fuck do you want?" I ask, throwing my legs over the edge of the bed, not caring if he sees my morning wood through my boxers.

He looks around the room, and clings to the door like a scared girl asking her mom if she can have a sleepover. "We've been trying to reach you, it's about clean up."

I reach for my phone to check the time but it isn't there. Shuffling into the bathroom, I dig it out of my pants pocket. My clothes are still in a heap on the ground, her wet clothes are piled in the corner of the shower. Bits of dried blood flake off when I pick up my jeans. It's 9:45 in the morning, guess I've been asleep longer than ten minutes.

Fully dressed, with a cup of black coffee, I seat myself at the throne. My desk is huge and made of shiny cherry wood. Officers from the Gang of Wolves are seated around the room.

Rod and Brick look tired as shit from the night before. Bones and Willy look tired as shit from being in the club for too damn long. Most of our men are my age or younger. Bones and Willy were officers when our last president stepped down.

"Who vouched for him?" I ask, the calm in my voice betraying the rage I feel inside.

No one says anything.

"Who the fuck vouched for him?" I ask again.

Brick coughs then says, "Logo."

"Have his skinny ass get rid of the body." I nod to Bones, "make sure he does it right."

Gang of Wolves used to be into some much heavier shit back in the day. Bones got his name for a reason. He's good at making sure people are gone when they're nothing but fucking bones. He nods back and says, "are we gonna talk about the other issue?"

"Not our problem," I shrug.

"It is if they come looking for her," Willy sits up now. "What the fuck else does Joey Northcutt have to offer?"

We aren't the only club Joey's pissed off. This is why we're getting out of the trade. Too much drama with junkies.

"Let his problems be his," I say. "For now, we work on one problem at a time. And I want the dead fucking body off my property. That's the issue we handle first."

"Agreed," they all say, and then Bones and Willy leave the room.

Turning my attention to my two other guys, I ask, "which one of you got to him first?" When I found the fucking twat he already had blood around his nose. Like the fucking idiot he is, he stuck around to party some more.

Rod gets this little smirk on his face. "It was Silvie. When I got to her, she had kicked him in the fucking mouth. You know those little wedges she wears? They're good for something because she busted his nose."

Badass little pixie.

"And you didn't finish the job?" I ask coldly.

He shrugs. "Fuck, I don't know man. She seemed so shaken up. After she locked herself in your room, I just stayed there."

"That's why you're a good fucking man, Rod."