Claim - Page 79

I shook my head. It was hard to get medication when you were on the run.

“I’m clean,” he told me.

I nodded. “Me too.”

His rough fingers ran along my cheekbones. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal. Together.”

He didn’t seem upset, so I nodded.

He pressed another kiss to my lips. “My angel. So damn sweet. There’s a bathroom through there.” He nodded toward an adjoining door. “Clean up and redo your makeup. Then I’ll shower and change. After that, we can get back to the party and I’ll buy you a drink.”

31

BEAU

When we rejoined the party, it was pretty obvious I’d fucked Bell. Her dress was rumpled, her hair was no longer smooth and sleek, and her cheeks were pink.

But she was smiling. I watched her as she nodded at Mila, and accepted a cocktail. My brothers’ women were all around her, chatting and laughing.

Accepting her.

They’d miss her when she was gone.

So would I.

My hand fisted beside my thigh. I couldn’t keep her. It wasn’t an option.

Memories of my parents, and that rat-infested house that reeked of sweat, drugs, and trash hit me hard. What they were ended with me. I wouldn’t pass it on.

Yet you just fucked Bell without a condom.

My gut twisted. I’d never gone without a rubber. Having kids wasn’t ever going to happen.

It was just once, so hopefully we’d be okay. I wouldn’t drag Bell down with my baggage. I wanted her safe and free to do what she wanted. To fly high. Without the weight of ChandlerCarr on her shoulders. Then she wouldn’t need to learn to fight anymore.

She wouldn’t need a scarred, tattooed, former foster kid who came from trash.

I knew what I was. Who I was. And I was comfortable with my life.

Then why do you like knowing it’s your come inside her right now?

Fuck.

Ignoring the voice in my head, I took a large swig of my whiskey.

“Great fight, Beau.” Kav appeared. “I won good money on you from Zane.”

I glanced at Roth and his wife.

The businessman held up a hand. “I knew you’d win, but I was happy to lose knowing that the money goes to charity. Well done, it was a great fight.”

“It was an excellent fight,” Ambrose Langston said. “You have a hell of a right hook.”

“You box?” I knew better than to assume that because he was rich and handsome he was the stereotypical billionaire that just sat behind a desk. Kav had taught me that.

“Only a little. I move around a lot with work, to wherever my latest acquisition is. But I can always take a punching bag with me.”

“You ever want to work out here in New Orleans, drop by Hard Burn.”