The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 58

Chapter 41

Chapter 41-1

Zara

Locke’s bedroom is dark except for the moonlight spilling through the massive windows. Somewhere below us, traffic moves through the streets in ribbons of white and red, but up here everything feels suspended, removed from the rest of the world. It’s like Locke’s penthouse exists in its own quiet little universe where bad things can’t quite reach us.

At least for tonight.

Clam

I lie curled against his side beneath the sheets, my cheek resting on his chest. It’s been a full day of being in his bed, my body being introduced to pleasure that I didn’t know it was even capable of.

I should probably be exhausted, and God knows I’ve earned it. The last few days alone feel as though they should account for several years of emotional wear and tear.

Instead, I find myself stretched comfortably across Locke, one leg tangled with his beneath the sheets, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat and feeling more awake than I have in months.

I smile against his chest.

“What?” he says. “What are you smiling at now?”

I laugh softly. “You always know what my face is doing.”

“I do.”

“You sound very proud of that.”

“I am.”

I laugh again, the sound disappearing into the quiet room, and for a moment neither of us speak. The silence isn’t awkward, though; nothing with Locke ever seems to be.

I roll onto my side, prop myself up slightly so I can see his face in the darkness. Moonlight catches the silver strands at his temples and the tattoos disappearing beneath the sheets.

“You know,” I say. “I want to keep working with you. We’re nowhere near finished with Knox, and we’ve barely scratched the surface of what he’s been doing.”

Locke nodded. “No argument here.”

“I want to help end it. I don’t want to sit on the sidelines while everyone else tears apart the mess he made.”

“But…”

“Yeah,” I say. “There is a but.”

“I knew it.”

“Show-off.”

13

Chapter 41

His laugh brushes against my lips. “So? But what?”

Cham

“But I need something that’s mine, because I don’t want to spend every day waiting for and seeking out the next Knox criminal disaster.”

The honesty of the admission surprises even me, and I look away toward the ocean. Toward the darkness. Toward a future that still feels uncertain and frightening and impossibly open all at once.

For a long moment, Locké simply watches me, then he shifts onto his side, mirroring my position, one hand coming up to brush a strand of hair off my bruised cheek.

“What would you do, Zara?”

The question should be simple, really, but instead, it steals my breath. Because nobody has asked me that in years.

“There is something,” I say hesitantly. “You’re going to make fun of me, though.”

‘Highly unlikely.”

‘No, you are.”

His smile deepens. “Now I definitely want to know.”

“Okay,” I say, throwing all caution to the wind. “I want to work on motorcycles.”

The silence that follows is magnificent, and the expression on Locke’s face is priceless.

‘That’s what you were worried about telling me?” he says. “That you’re a wrench turner?”

sigh. “It sounds ridiculous, I know.”

‘No, baby. It doesn’t.”

study him suspiciously. “You mean that?”

‘I do.”

The certainty in his voice catches me off guard, because there isn’t a trace of amusement there. The realization warms something deep inside my chest.

“I’ve always loved it,” I say. “When I was little, I’d sit in the garage with Dad for hours.”

The memories come flooding back now. Oil-stained concrete, rock music playing somewhere, the smell of gasoline and metal, my father quizzing me on the names of tools before I was old enough to drive.

“Dad taught me everything.” A smile pulls at my mouth. “I rebuilt my first bike engine when I was thirteen”

Locke blinks. “You rebuilt an engine? At thirteen?”

I grin. “There it is.”

“There what is?”

“The making-fun-of-me part.”

2/3

Chapter 41

m not making fun of you.” He looks genuinely offended. “I’m fucking impressed.”

M

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