Ace: His Angel (Phoenix Riders MC 1)

8: Angel

Ace POV

Kaitlyn is reserved, intelligent, genuine, and innocent. All things club girls are not and everything we as Phoenix Riders' protect.

Her green eyes filled with curiosity and questions she held on to the tip of her tongue but never asked. Most women stare at my body, not wanting to know who I am underneath, but not Kaitlyn. She took in the tattoos which covered my skin, wanting to know the story behind them, which was a first for me. However, I know nothing about her, and it's my job to know those who enter our world. She's hiding, and I want to know why.

Sitting on the couch, I watched her open all the cupboards, pulling out all the ingredients. When she reached for something on the top shelf, she stood on her tiptoes, and her sweatshirt rode up, revealing her hips and side. When she turned around to look at her ingredients, she bit her lip, thinking, and I was captivated. Her body would be perfect under me, with her green eyes staring up at me while buried deep inside her. Fuck.

Kaitlyn got all her ingredients out, but after, I could tell her hand was in pain. I checked my phone, and Hawk still hadn't found the man responsible, and I was growing impatient. He deserves to suffer and needs a severe lesson on how to treat women. Kaitlyn is a fighter, unwilling to let others help, and I know there will be more bruises, but hopefully never from another man.

Music filled the kitchen, and Kaitlyn took off her sweatshirt, revealing a tight black tank top, and got lost in the music. From where I sat, I could see what sat in the middle of her chest, a scar. It looked like someone cut it multiple times, and deep pink scar tissue sat at the top. I didn't want to stare, but I couldn't tear my eyes away.

Why didn't Killer say anything about it? Did he not see it?

Angle is strong, stronger than most. Her bruised knuckles and scar prove that, unfortunately. However confident she was last night, it disappeared the moment she stepped foot in an unfamiliar place with people she doesn't know. But she doesn't need to hide. Not here with her brother and me. Hopefully, she will slowly learn that and understand I will keep her safe.

Kaitlyn's music filled the silent house, and she quickly forgot anyone else was there. I hate silence. It can be dangerous. It creeps in, creating chaos within a person, and leads them down a black hole. If I sit in it for too long, my hellhound consumes me, having its way with me and everyone else, and Angel does not need to see that part of me. Ever. I'll make sure of that.

*****

Thirty minutes later, I made my way to the kitchen, unable to sit any longer. I tiptoed to the kitchen, not wanting to scare Angel, but curious if she would notice me as she had earlier. She hummed along to the music, dancing slightly as she cooked, like she didn't have a care in the world. Perfect.

Angel froze while grabbing plates from the cupboard. "You know you don't have to hide and stare. Food is ready," she called out, not looking over at me.

Walking in, I smiled to myself. My favorite food.

Kaitlyn covered the island with every taco topping someone could want. She placed a plate of six tacos in front of me, then made her own. Watching her move about the kitchen, comfortable, like it was her own, turned me on. No, Ace. No, she is off-limits.

She turned around but stopped short. "Is there something wrong? If you want something else, I don't mind making it," Angel quickly offered, her green eyes filled with worry.

Shit. That's not why I hadn't moved. Why isn't Whiskey here? He's better at this.

The longer I thought about Whiskey being here, alone with Kaitlyn, the angrier I became. Imagining him eating with her, sitting close together on the couch, his hands...

"Ace?" Kaitlyn's voice called out to me. Green eyes stared at me, worried. "Are you okay? You seem upset."

"No Angel, everything is perfect. I want to ensure there is enough for you first," I assured her.

She stood still, trying to figure out what to do first. Sit down, or make her tacos, but she built her tacos and sat down on the island.

We sat in a comfortable silence as we ate, and I didn't think Kaitlyn could out-eat me, but she proved me wrong. When she finished, Angel got up to clean the kitchen, but I wasn't about to let that happen. Placing my hand on her arm, she jumped slightly, stiffening at my touch, enraging me.

How could she think I would hurt her? I've hurt more people than I can count, but women, never.

Running my thumb over her skin, trying to calm her nerves, she relaxed under my touch. "Don't worry about the mess. I'll clean it up," I strained out.

Her green eyes wandered from my hand to my eyes. I thought she would fight me on it, but she gave a small nod, placing her plate down, and turned to walk away, but I didn't let her go. I couldn't.

"Who did that to you, Angel?" I asked, looking down at her swollen hand.

Kaitlyn's mind instantly raced. Debating what was safe to tell me. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine, and technically I did it to myself. I threw the punch, not him," she half-smiled, and walked to the couch, pulling the blanket over her.

It's my job to worry, Angel. My job is to protect you.

I cleaned up dinner enough for Killer to not yell at me and returned to Kaitlyn. Something about her draws me to her, and I don't know how to feel about it. Keeping my Rider brothers safe is one thing, but a random girl I know nothing about is another. Yet, I want to. The only attention I get or give to women is when they're on their knees for me, but Kaitlyn is different.

Grabbing the frozen veggies, towel, and her sweatshirt, I headed to the couch, handing everything to Kaitlyn. She browsed Netflix, and goosebumps covered her arms, despite being under the blanket, and I felt terrible giving her something cold. With my fiery blood and hot temper, I don't notice temperature differences. Until now.

She put her jacket on and placed the frozen veggies on her hand, grimacing from the pain and cold. Not wanting the attention, or to make matters worse with Killer, she kept quiet. Suffering alone.

"Thank you," Angel whispered, and looked as though she wanted to say more but didn't.

I wish she understood her brother and the MC will protect her, and she has nothing to fear. However, someone at some point broke their promises and her trust in others has diminished. Her brother and I have our work cut out for us, but maybe we can show her we will protect her and keep our promises.

I sat on the opposite side of the couch and stared at Angel. "What shows do you like to watch?" she asked.

None. I don't watch tv.

I said nothing, not knowing what to say, and she let out a breath, furrowing her brows before picking a crime show and snuggling further into the couch. Angel watched her show, and I watched her, quoting lines, and letting out small laughs at the corny jokes they told. Watching and listening to her was intoxicating.

Every time Kaitlyn glanced at me, I felt seen. Seeing who I am underneath it all which scares me, but in a good way. Her green eyes hold power, a power that I don't think even she is aware of.

Who are you, Angel? Why are you hiding?