Patriot (Hades Abyss MC 6) - Harley Wylde Page 0,1

and delicate white curtains at the window. The room was soft and feminine, and a far cry from how it had looked when I first arrived. Patriot had worked hard to give me a place to call a safe haven. He’d painted the room himself and hung the curtains. I’d been too timid to ask for anything, so he’d also purchased bedding he thought I might like.

He’d treated me better than anyone ever had, even before I’d been kidnapped. I knew he probably wanted his home back. Even though he’d been unfailingly kind to me, I couldn’t help but wonder if he only tolerated my presence. When I’d first arrived, Sean hadn’t been in any sort of shape to take care of me, so Patriot had permitted me to stay with him. My cousin was back on his feet now, and yet I hadn’t moved out.

I heard classic rock blaring out front and peered through my window down below. Patriot was on his back under the Bronco, his tools scattered around him and his jeans smeared with oil. I liked standing here, watching him. Maybe it made me a bit of a stalker, but there was something about him that drew me like a moth to a flame. I knew he was older than me, probably by quite a bit, but he was also handsome. I’d even go so far as to call him sexy, and I hadn’t thought I’d ever feel that way about a man. Not after all I’d endured.

He slid out from under the Bronco and yanked his shirt over his head, tossing it aside. My breath caught at the perfection of his body. His arms and chest were inked and covered in muscle. The sun glinted on his reddish-brown hair, making it shine with copper tones. I sighed and wondered how he wasn’t cold without his shirt. It was nearly December, and not exactly warm outside.

My phone rang, making me jump away from the window. I picked it up off the bed and saw it was my cousin.

“Hi, Sean.” He growled softly and I winced. “Sorry. Galahad.”

“It’s been three months, MaryAnne. Last thing I need is you slipping up and calling me Sean in front of my brothers. It shows a lack of respect.”

I sank to the floor, my back to the wall, and drew my knees to my chest. His tone of voice sent me back to a place I never wanted to go. My hand trembled as I held onto the phone. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I sometimes forget you’re still a kid,” he said. “Try to remember, okay? I’m not angry. Not really. You’ve been through hell and don’t need me fussing at you.”

The last thing I wanted was for anyone to call me a kid. I’d had to grow up fast after I’d been kidnapped. I’d met women ten years older than me who acted like they were still in high school.

“Why did you call?” I asked.

“Patriot isn’t answering his phone. I needed to ask him something. Can you get him for me?”

I chewed on my lower lip. Yeah, I could technically walk out and hand my phone to him. I wasn’t sure I was comfortable doing it. Taking a breath, I steadied my nerves and got up. Even though I had on fuzzy peppermint-striped socks that matched my red sweater and skinny jeans, I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to go out without shoes. Then again, it was the end of November in Mississippi. There was a chance it was in the seventies outside. I liked to be completely covered, head to toe, these days. Even having bare arms made me feel exposed.

I padded downstairs and went out the front door. The music was even louder as I approached Patriot. He’d slid back under the Bronco so that only his legs stuck out. I nudged his calf with my toes. His body went tight, and he slowly came out from under the vehicle. My throat went dry and my hand shook as I handed my phone to him. A frown marred his handsome face as he stood and took it.

“Who is this?” he demanded, keeping an eye on me. He listened a moment and his eyes narrowed. “What the fuck did you say to MaryAnne?”

I sucked in a breath. I’d noticed he was protective of me, but my heart always gave a little kick whenever he got that tone with someone. He didn’t like it when anyone upset me,