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I waggle again, and I see her lips twitch up at the corners before she regains control and they flatten again.

"No. You don't get a hug for going behind my back like that. You ticked me off, Sully."

"I'm sorry."

"Are you?"

"Partly, yes. I don't want to make you angry, but friends do that sometimes. My reasons are sound. Which means," I add, "hugging it out is even more important."

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"When it comes to you? Guilty as charged." My tone lowers as I say the words, no doubt filled with all the things I don't say, and I grin inwardly at the flush that reappears in her cheeks.

Yeah, she gets me. Just like I get her

"Give him a freaking hug already! The lunch crowd is coming in, and we're getting slammed," Jasmine calls from inside the bus.

Violet and I both look at the partially opened window helping to vent the cooking area inside, and I chuckle at Violet's groan when she spots her sister being just as nosy as I was regarding that phone call.

"You heard her." I move before Violet can, swiftly but gently drawing her into my arms and wrapping her up against my chest. I feel her bunched muscles and tension lining her entire body. But then, after a moment when I don't let go and she doesn't push me away, I feel her take a deep breath and soften.

That's it, baby girl. Let me over those sky-high walls.

I gently squeeze her, rubbing a hand up and down between her tight shoulder blades. She relaxes even more with a catch of her breath, and I silently high-five myself at making progress, however little. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you first, but I'll always look out for you, Vi. No matter what."

She presses her forehead into my chest for a brief few seconds before pulling away. I let her go, winking at her with a widening grin that draws another huff from her before she rolls her eyes and stalks away.

I keep grinning.

Because this? This is Violet accepting the fact she has some tattooed biker dudes watching out for her safety.

And this is me, getting one step closer to my girl.

Chapter 9

Violet

* * *

All afternoon, my thoughts return to the conversation with Sully. Gratitude tries to rise at the thought of him being so concerned that he went out of his way to make sure I'm safe, but I struggle with it, still.

On the one hand, yes, it's sweet.

And that hug?

I needed it more than I realized.

It took everything in me to pull away because what I really wanted to do was curl up on his lap and bury my face against him. To ostrich in a place where I knew in my heart of hearts, I'd be safe.

So, yeah. I'm grateful.

But on the other hand?

The burnt edges of my gratitude are charred black with the threat of being controlled. My ex justified his control tactics as well. And while Sully and the guys "keeping an eye out" might wear better intentions, I don't want or need men deciding where I am safe and when. After all, it's because of a so-called man that it's even in question.

I'm a person. A human being with rights. At least, that's how it should be. As a woman, I know just how delusional it is to believe in safety when men bigger and stronger and more dangerous are around. Especially when there's so much violence in the world directed toward women, and it seems to be growing daily. Even from husbands, the very men supposed to love, honor and protect us.

Especially from husbands.