Techy (Devil Souls MC Book 2)(9)

By: LeAnn Ashers

I shiver again. “Goodnight, Jordan.” I close my eyes and bask in his warmth.

“Shhh, baby. It’s okay.”

When I open my eyes, and my gaze connects with Jordan’s. His hand is touching my cheek.

“What is it?” I ask breathlessly.

“You were having a nightmare.”

I close my eyes, thankful I don’t remember it. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life haunted by memories of my childhood and the life I led up until a few days ago.

My mind starts racing with thoughts. I wonder what happened to my dad. Is he still around? Will he try to come for me? Not able to help myself, I voice my fear to Jordan.

“What if my father comes back for me?”

Jordan’s expression turns angry before instantly softening. “Baby, he can’t hurt you anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s dead.”

Those two words rock me to my core. I’m not upset—I’m far from it. I feel relief. This man starved me, deprived me, let men grope me, beat me, verbally abused me, and humiliated me. He has done nothing but be the cause of pain my whole life.

I feel set free.

I never have to see him again or look over my shoulder because I’m waiting for him to pop back up. My mom can live the life she wants to live.

Wait. “Did you kill him?” I look Jordan dead in the eyes.

He nods. “Yes, I did.”

“Why?” I have to ask this. I place my hand on his neck, needing to touch him.

“He hurt you. He hurt what’s mine.”

Holy. Moly.

Did he just say that?

“I-I am yours?” I stutter out. In a clearer voice, I ask, “What do you mean?”

Jordan grins at me cockily. “It means that I’m your man and you’re my woman. You will wear my patch so every fucker in the world knows you’re mine.”

I jerk in shock and my mouth falls open. Excitement bubbles up in me, and I think, Am I sick in the head for wanting this man? The man who killed my father? But he did it because he’d hurt me.

Just call me fucked up.

I want this.

“Okay,” I whisper to him.

“Okay?” he repeats and strokes my cheekbone with his face.

“Yes, okay.” I smile at him.

He smiles back. He puts his arm at the crook of my neck and rests his hand on my hip. I close my eyes and fall back asleep. This time, I don’t have any nightmares.

“What are you doing?” I ask Jordan, still half-asleep.

He’s sitting up in bed and pulling at my T-shirt. Well, technically, it’s his.

“Inspecting my shirt,” he says.

I raise my head off my pillow and look at him, confused. “Huh?”

He looks up at me and smirks. “Did you know my shirt is made of boyfriend material?” He lets his shirt go.

I burst out laughing at his cheesiness. I hold my ribs because every laugh hurts, but I can’t stop laughing.

“Oh my God, that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard!” I say through my laughter.

Jordan used to say cheesy stuff all the time when we FaceTimed.

“Angel, are you cold? Do you want to use me as a blanket?”

I throw my head back in laughter again as tears roll down my face. This man is too much. I settle down and look over at Jordan, who is grinning from ear to ear at me.

“You’re beautiful when you laugh.”

I blush and hide my face in the blanket. Last night kind of changed everything. He told me that he wanted me to be his girlfriend. I’m fine with that. More than fine, actually.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you fed.”

I pull the blanket down and slowly move over to the edge of the bed, my body racked in pain. Jordan comes around the bed, reaches forward, and picks me up with ease.

I lay my head on his chest and snuggle into him. It’s instinctual now. His scent is intoxicating, and I feel protected by his presence.

He walks past the kitchen and straight into the living room. He tries to set me on the couch, but I grab his hand so he can’t pull away. I pull him down to me and wrap my arms around his neck. I’m so thankful for him. If it weren’t for him, I could very well be dead. Or God knows what else could have happened.

“Thank you, Jordan. For everything.”

Jordan’s arm tightens on my back, and I feel his breath on my forehead. As I run my hand down his strong, muscular back, his lips touch my forehead and my eyes sink closed.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

I grin and shake my head at this man. He continues to shock me.

He pulls away and stands in front of me. He grins that grin he sometimes does, and I know he’s about to say something cheesy.

“Are you lost, ma’am? Heaven is a long way from here, angel.”