“He was drunk,” Wallace said. “Too damned drunk for ten o’clock on a weeknight. First, there was a dustup with Lily. Olivia handled it. Lily’s earned herself a month’s suspension. Beau seems to have hooked up with her, and I don’t know if that’s what made him go after Olivia or—”

“He went after—?” Ricky saw blood on the floor. “Did he hurt—?”

“No,” Wallace said. “That’s his. Apparently, you gave Liv a knife.”

Ricky’s arm tightened around me as he leaned in to whisper, “You okay?”

“I am.”

Wallace said I’d handled it fine, that it was just one asshole being an asshole and Beau had better never step on the property again, but Ricky strode to the door and opened it with a hard kick. We followed him outside, and he surveyed the lot.

“He’s got a Super Glide, right?”

“Yeah.” Wallace stepped out behind us. “He’s long gone.”

Ricky’s gaze fixed on the road. My hand tightened on his. He murmured, “I want to go after him.”

I agree. I want you to show him why he should respect you. And yet . . .

“And yet . . .” Ricky murmured, the echo sending another shiver through me. “I need to start reining in my temper. It doesn’t lead me anywhere good.” He raised his voice for Wallace. “We know where he lives, right?”

“Where he’s staying, yeah.”

“Then I’ll pay him a visit tomorrow. Better to do it once I’ve cooled off and he thinks he’s gotten away with it. If he shows up at the clubhouse before then, I want a call. Good?”

Technically, being sergeant-at-arms, Wallace was in charge of enforcement and discipline, so it made sense for Ricky to run this past him. But more than that, he was wisely asking advice of someone older and more experienced. Wallace nodded, and even if he only grunted, “Yeah, that works,” there was a glow in his eyes, his star pupil proving, yet again, why he deserved the extra attention.

Ricky rolled his shoulders, his gaze swinging to the forest behind the clubhouse as he leaned toward me. “If I walk it off, will you come with me?”

“Of course.”

—

This wasn’t an amble through the woods. Ricky was pissed, temper rolling off him. Finally, he stopped and peered into the forest, his shoulders tight, as if expecting attack from all sides. Then he took my other hand and tugged me in front of him. He met my gaze, his dark eyes like a tumultuous night sky, clouds roiling through, no hint of that moonlit glimmer I’d seen before. He blinked and the clouds dissipated, but only for a second before gathering again.

“I’m okay,” he said.

“I know.”

“It should be easier. Shaking this. I did the right thing, letting him go for now.”

“You did.”

“So why—” He bit off the word and made a noise in his throat.

I stepped closer. I didn’t try to kiss him, even to touch him, but as soon as I made a move his way, those clouds shifted and twisted, lust flaring behind them. He blinked hard and shuddered.

“You don’t want to do that,” he said.

I moved closer. “Why not?”

“Because I’m still . . .” He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake it off again, but it held fast, and when he met my gaze, his breathing came harder. “You don’t want me like this.”

“You need to shake it. I’m offering to help.”

He tugged me to him, just close enough for me to feel his chest brushing mine as he took deep breaths.

“I want to shake it,” he said. “Not vent it on you.”

“How about a compromise?” I disengaged my hands from his and unbuttoned the top of my shirt. “We’ll get a little more fresh air first . . .” I backed up and undid the next button, flicking open my front bra clasp with it. “A little more exercise . . .” I opened two more buttons. “Work off the edge . . .” The last button. “But just the edge. I’ll take the rest.” I let my shirt hang open. “Or I will . . . if you can catch me.” At last I saw that glitter in his eyes, moonlight behind the clouds. “Is that a yes?”

He lunged. I wheeled, laughing, and raced off into the forest.

GONE

Ricky was dreaming of the Hunt. He was in the forest, chasing Liv, adrenaline pounding, the snap and jab of branches only making his breath come harder, lust and excitement tingeing the forest red.

He could see her ahead, naked, the chain around her neck glittering in the moonlight. Hell, he swore he could smell her, her own excitement and adrenaline pulsing from her like threads that threatened to break each time she rounded a tree and disappeared from sight, and he’d barrel forward, fear licking through him, fear that he’d lose her, and when he spotted her again, that relief mingled with a fresh surge of resolve, and he’d find a little extra speed, determined to catch her before she . . .

Disappeared.

He slowed. Liv had darted around a big oak ahead, and when she hadn’t reappeared, he thought it was his line of sight, but now he’d come around the tree and found himself staring into empty forest.

He weaved one way and then the other. She had to be there. She never went far. This was a chase, not hide-and-seek. That’s what he hungered for and she knew it, as she always knew, absolutely and instinctively. So if she was gone . . .

His heart jolted so hard pain shot through his chest.