Falling For The Biker: The Vice President's Girl Chapter 85

Wren

His jaw ticks, hands bruised and balled up by his sides.

"Baby," I whisper, pushing to my feet.

Before I fully stand though, he's on me in a minute. "Sit. Don't move, you're hurt."

A small chuckle slips past my lips. "My arm is hurt, not my legs."

"If I had my way, you wouldn't be hurt at all. So sit."

I don't fight him. He's worked up already, angry lines form between his brows, and his jaw doesn't stop ticking.

"It's only a graze—"

"He shot at you."

"If he wanted to kill me he would. I think he just wanted to scare—"

"He. Shot. At. You, Wren." Ezra punctuates, eyes darkening.

He zones out for a bit, and I can only imagine that he's back there in front of Reggie, hitting him until he's unconscious.

Sure, I've seen Ezra violent before. I've watched initiation nights, I've seen him beat up snitches, and punish traitors.

But I've never seen this side of him.

He was unreachable. Lord knows how many time I screamed for him to stop. And I fear that if Ray hadn't listened to me, Ezra would've killed that man with his bare hands.

Was that how he beat up Tristan?

I slip my hand into his, drawing his attention. "I'm fine," I tell him. "It doesn't hurt."

That's a lie.

My arm is on fire, I can barely move it.

The bullet didn't nick any bone, heck, it didn't even get lodged in my skin, but still, it hurts so bad.

"I know it hurts," he sighs. "I've been nicked before. Fuck, Wren!"

He drops beside me. "I am so fucking sorry. I should've made you leave the moment you walked in, I should've remembered to give you your key, I should've—"

"Stop," I murmur. "None of this is your fault."

His adam's apple bobs on a swallow, and he runs his bruised hands through his hair. "It's because I taunted him. We could've paid the fifteen million, I have lots of fifteen million—"

"You were right. He'd only come back for more."

"And I'd give it all. I'd give it all so you never have to get hurt, so that bullet never has to touch you."

I rub his thighs and just breathe in his scent, letting his words soaked with love wash over me.

"I love you," I breathe.

For the first time, he looks at my injured arm. His lips fold together as he inspects it, and then he places a soft kiss on the bandage.

"God, I love you so much. You have no idea...no idea what seeing you like that did to me. When I saw the gun aimed at you, and I heard the shot—" he hesistates.

"I damn near lost it," he continues. "I wanted to kill him, Wren. I wanted to put a bullet in his fucking skull. I wanted to smash those hands that held up the gun, and the finger that pulled the trigger."

"I know, I know. If it helps, I'll say you almost succeeded, but I couldn't let you do that. You could go to jail."

He scoffs, gray eyes pierced on mine intently. "I'd go to jail for you, Wren."

Like hell I'd let him leave me.

Snorting, I reply, "Before you go to jail, let's go home first."

He cracks a smile at that, and my heart leaps. He helps me up and as we reach the door, there's a knock on it.

"VP!" Sounds like Torch.

Ezra pulls the door open. "Yes?"

"Prez wants to see you. It's about the man in the basement."

"Okay, I'll be right there. Take Wren to where the women are." Then he turns to me. "I'll be with you soon, okay?"

I nod. "Alright."

Torch gives a small smile as he leads me down the stairs. "I'm sorry about your arm."

"It wasn't your fault."

"We could've done a better job at—"

"There's nothing any of you could've done, Torch. I'm fine, I promise. I need you guys to stop apologizing to me."

My phone blares after that, and I hold it up to Torch. "Who's calling?"

"Quincy."

Well, shit.

"What's the probability that she's already heard the news?"

"One hundred percent. Prez called her and told her about it."

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose, and I pick up.

"Hey, Quin—"

"Wren! You stubborn woman," she sighs. "How's your arm?"

A small smile spreads across my face. "It's fine. You're not going to say 'I told you so'?"

"Oh I am. Just wanted to ask about your health first."

"I see."

"I told you not to go there, Wren!" My lips twitch. "I told you to wait it out, to wait for Ezra. But no, you decided to be stubborn. Would you listen to my advice next time?"

"Yes ma'am." I laugh.

"It's not funny," she huffs. "It could have been worse, you know that right?"

"Could've. But it's not worse."

"This is not the time to be smart. This was careless, Wren. You put yourself in a high risk situation."

"But I'm fine, Quincy. I promise."

"You say that now. Next time, listen to my advice, okay?"

Torch opens the door to a room labelled "Church", and waves us goodbye.

All the women surround me, but I raise my phone, signaling that I'm on a call.

When they ease back, I continue my conversation with Quincy.

"I know you were worried, and you warned me," I say. "I'm sorry for not listening. Thank you for always looking out for me. Give me another advice, and I'll heed to it this time."

"Is that so?"

"Yes." I nod.

"Alright then. My next advice is; tell Ray about you and Ezra. Before it's too late, Wren."

My throat tightens. "Got it. We will."

"Alright sweetie. Head home on time, okay? Be safe."

"I will. You too, take care of my niece in there."

"Definitely."

As soon as the call drops, Lizzy makes her way to me.

"Oh Wren, we heard the shot from here. And when Mrs Dee told us it was you...goodness!"

She pulls me in for a hug, careful not to jerk my injured arm.

"I'm fine." I rub her back. "I promise."

Ezra holds a spoonful of food to my mouth, and I eat. He's taken it upon himself to feed me.

Mind you, it's my left hand that's injured.

"You don't have to feed me," I remind him for the— I don't even know how many times I've said those exact words since we got home.

He only holds up another spoonful. "Eat, Wren. Stop talking."

I huff.

I've got to say, I quite enjoy this. If he had his way, I bet he'd carry me everywhere—who am I kidding, he almost did.

We came back some hours ago, and I really missed this house.

"I'll help you clean up those knuckles, okay?"

He glances at his hands. "My knuckles are fine. I'll clean them up myself."

"I can do it."

"With what hands? Please, baby, don't make another fuss."

My jaw drops. "I'm making a fuss—"

He dips down and kisses me, successfully shutting me up.

"Can you just let me take care of you?" He mumbles. "I thought I'd lose you, I was terrified out of my mind. And having you here in my arms... I never want to let you out of my sight."

That's when I see the haunted look in his eyes, and I understand it. I'm reminded of when he went to see Mitch, and how battered he looked after the rescue.

Unfortunately, I couldn't fuss over him because of the guys at the house. But god, I wanted to hide up with him in our room—his room—and never step out.

"Okay," I rasp. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, sweetheart." He brushes my jaw. "Just let me take care of you. That's all I need."

I nod. "Alright. I won't make a fuss again."

"Thank you." He smiles.

The rest of the feeding session goes by smoothly. I eat enough, and when he holds a glass of water to my lips, I don't complain.

Relaxing and letting him do his thing feels good, actually.

Ezra pushes the tray of food away, and pulls me to his chest. He's careful to avoid my arm, his fingers sifting through my hair.

"I've been thinking," he says.

The deep timbre of his voice vibrates in my ears, and I hum.

"We should go on our vacation...like we planned."

"Now?" I push off his chest.

He shrugs. "Not immediately. But we can stay with Beth and the kids for a bit, and then leave from there."

"What about the man you have locked up at the clubhouse?"

"Ray is handling him. We won't stay for long, just a couple of days."

I think it over, there's no flaw in it.

"Okay. I mean, I'll appreciate a change of scenery after this incident."

"Yea, same."

His phone pings, and he looks it over.

A frown immediately replaces the smile on his face.

"Who's that?"

"It's a text...from AJ." He clicks the phone shut, and runs a hand through his hair. "Fuck!"