Children of Fire (Complete)

twenty-five

Gideon

I had gone into auto-pilot mode once I shoved my phone back into my suit jacket. The fucking clubhouse was under attack and I was miles away wining and dining with fancy rich people. Sure, it was a business event and it wasn't for nothing, but I felt like a fraud being this far away-- dressed in a suit I would probably never wear again with a woman that I definitely didn't deserve on my arm, pretending to be something other than an outlaw biker with a criminal record a mile long.

I crossed the room in seconds and ripped Emerson away from Callahan, seeing his hand resting gently on her waist and gripping her hand had sent me into a jealous fury, and I was even more angry now, knowing that it was probably his fault that my men were injured back at home. I wasn't going to say anything to Callahan, but the way he tried to cling to Emerson as I was pulling her away from him had done nothing but add fuel to the fire.

"You better pray to your God that this isn't your fault." I told him dangerously. I studied his eyes for a moment and saw genuine surprise and confusion flash behind them for the smallest moment. I didn't have time to analyze anything else, because after I had said my words to him, I was making my way to the SUV faster than my legs were used to walking. I was tugging Emerson along behind me as a million thoughts whirled through my head.

Who the fuck decided to attack the clubhouse right now? The only person we had beef with was Callahan and I had been with him most of the night. There's no way he had time to slip away and call the shots, unless someone else had done it for him. Now that I think about it, that little fucker Pierce spent a large majority of the dinner earlier on his phone, maybe he had something to do with it? Was everyone at the clubhouse okay? I had ordered them all to stay put there, if anyone was hurt it was my fault. Damnit, who the fuck did--

"You're hurting me!" Emerson's voice brought me out of my thoughts and I froze, was she talking to me? I realized a split second too late that I was gripping her arm so tightly there was sure to be bruises. Fuck, I always managed to screw something up when it came to her, even though all I wanted to do was make sure I didn't hurt her again. Shit.

"I'm sorry, Emerson." I told her, gently holding her face so she could see how sincere I was. "I'm so sorry." I told her again, I needed her to understand that I truly was sorry. Without thinking, I bent down and wrapped her small frame in my arms, holding her close to me. Whether it was to comfort her or myself, I wasn't sure of, but I knew I needed this. Holding her this close was like pure bliss. She was the definition of ethereal beauty, and I was so lucky to have spent this night with her-- even if I never told anyone other than myself.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, and I am so sorry. It's just... something happened and we've got to get to the clubhouse." I reluctantly pulled away from her and held her face again, unable to ignore how soft her skin felt against my rough hands. She placed her own dainty hands on my waist and met my gaze with an intensity like I had never experienced. "I don't have the time to drop you off first, and we've really got to go. I'll answer any questions you have once this night is over with, but for now, I need you to stay close to me and keep whatever you see tonight between the two of us, okay?" I stared deeply into her eyes as she nodded, letting me know that she understood. I let out a breath of relief and bent down to kiss the top of her head. Now was not the time to kiss her, because I knew once I started kissing her I wouldn't be able to stop. "Come on, let's go."

I couldn't get to the clubhouse quick enough, and it seemed that no matter what speed I was going, it wasn't fast enough. I found myself weaving through traffic mindlessly, passing people and honking my horn occasionally if someone didn't get out of my way in time. If I got pulled over, that was just something I'd have to deal with later. I should have been thinking about how to exact revenge on whoever had wronged The 66, but my mind was blank. All I could think about was what would have happened to Emerson if she had been there tonight? No, she had never been at the clubhouse before, but it seemed like any time something dangerous happened in my life, I was worried for her. It couldn't be healthy to think about her as much as I did, but fuck if I cared anymore. I couldn't stop it, and honestly I didn't want to stop thinking about her.