Snare: Road Kill MC (A Novel) by Marata Eros Page A

a.m.
    Wrapping my hair in a towel and clutching one around my body, I pad out into the living room. I'll have some water, get a snack, get my yoga pants on...
    Snare's sitting on one of two overstuffed chairs in my tiny living room. All that black leather encased by floral chintz upholstery.
    I'm so startled I squeak and almost drop my towel.
    “Hello, Sara.”
    I open my mouth. Shut it. My fingers cinch the towel tighter between my breasts. “Snare.” My voice is a threaded whisper.
    Our stares hold so much mutual pain. I feel mine leaking out of my gaze—the pores of my body.
    Snare just looks angry. His fingers bite the armrests of the chair, strangling the floral fabric.
    My eyes move over his body in a hungry wave of desire. I didn't get a really good chance to look at him before. I only fled.
    I can't deal with this again.
    The shame of using Snare. Holding him back. Him taking the beatings meant for me. It doesn't matter that we're grown now. That we don't have to be in that house anymore. There'd always be Riker. And Snare would always put himself between me and harm. That's just the way he's hardwired.
    “Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?” His words slam into me. One after the other, like punches. Stealing my breaths. My heartbeats. Leaving me stunned.
    “What?” I finally ask.
    Snare stands.
    He's taller than I remember. More filled out. He walks around my furniture and towers over me.
    I feel horribly vulnerable with only a towel separating my naked body from his eyes. Not because I'm afraid Snare will hurt me, but because I'm afraid of how much I still want him. I grip the towel tighter.
    This is Snare, my protector. “Looking at you like what?” I ask in a small voice.
    “You look at me like I'm dog shit.” His eyes are deep wells of bright sapphire rage, pinning me to where I stand.
    I couldn't move if I wanted to.
    What? I shake my head, my wet hair chilling my shoulders as the towel on my head drops to the floor. “I don't think that of you, Snare—I never could.” I reach out to touch him. I know I shouldn't, that I don't have the right. But I do, and he turns away, jerking away from my seeking hand. I let it fall to my side.
    “Bullshit.” He paces away, then he comes back to me, his fists clenching and unclenching. “You fucking took off, Sara. Just when we could have made something together.”
    I take in his body. The vest with a little diamond that has a 1 percent symbol inside. His presence overwhelms me, and my fingers tremble with wanting to touch him. I need to be stronger than this. “I don't want you to sacrifice your life for me, Snare.” My eyes travel the rough scar that bisects his handsome face, no longer pink and fresh like I remember. I know better than to touch it, but my fingers ache to erase the proof of what he did for me.
    “Why didn't you let me choose?” He hits his chest with his fist, and I jump, stifling a yelp. This angry Snare is not the man I remember.
    Of course, I'm probably not the girl he remembers either. “I knew you would always protect me. But I also knew it wasn't fair to you. That you couldn't be with me just out of obligation. Because you're just that good of a man.”
    His laugh is bitter, and I step back from the ugly sound.
    “You're the one that's good, Sara.”
    He doesn't sound like he thinks I'm good. I shake my head, casting my gaze to the floor. “No.”
    He makes a snort of disbelief, and I raise my head. His smile isn't nice, it's feral. “Good at sucking guys off, good at getting naked.”
    My mouth falls open. This isn't Snare. This is some alien that's taken a hold of him. I shake my head. “No. I do what I have to do to make a living. I—what you saw isn't normal for me...” Heat infuses my face like my skin's on fire. There's almost no defense without explaining Jaylin. I clamp my lips together.
    “Normal?” Snare laughs, and suddenly his fingers are on the towel where my hand is clenched.
    “What—what are