Page 7 of Blake

He sighed. He was in a shitty mood today.

The wind whispered through the trees, chilling Blake to the bone as he stood with his brothers before Chloe's grave.

"Here and now, we renew our vow," Nash said, his voice low and solemn. "To protect the vulnerable and defend those who can't fight for themselves."

"Whatever it takes," Jax added with a nod.

"Agreed," Blake murmured, his eyes never leaving Chloe's headstone.

He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t get Savannah out of his head this morning. The thought of her, alone and possibly in danger, gnawed at him. He couldn't shake the image of her at her window, wearing those pink pajamas, clutching her stuffie, sipping her milk—so small, so fragile.

"Alright, time to head to the Haven for our annual toast," Jax said, breaking the silence. "You coming, Blake?"

Blake shook his head. “No can do. I’m meeting Savannah.”

Nash raised an eyebrow, concern etching his features. "You've been a bit off lately, brother. How are you so sure Savannah’s case is urgent? She told you she wasn’t in immediate danger. She just wants backup for an investigation. We always celebrate the anniversary together. Keeps us focused on our goals. Plus, we need to talk about this gala. There are—"

"Don’t talk to me about remaining focused on our goals," Blake blurted. “I’m more focused than either of you. Protect and defend, right? Well, that’s what I’m doing.”

Nash sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine, but if it turns out to be less of a priority than the gala, you need to tell Savannah she’s gonna have to wait a few days.”

“We need you, bro,” added Jax, ever the peacemaker.

"Trust me," Blake said with conviction, his gaze returning to Chloe's grave. "I'll be there when it counts. For Chloe. For us."

As Nash and Jax headed for the Haven, Blake sighed. He knew the importance of their mission, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there were more immediate threats to address.

As he set off to meet Savannah, Blake felt a sense of purpose he hadn't experienced in a while. This was the kind of direct help he'd been craving—a chance to protect someone who needed it right now. With a heavy heart and resolute determination, he setoff to meet Savannah, unaware of just how much his world was about to shift on its axis.

Chapter four

SAVANNAH

Savannah's breath caught in her throat as she approached the large ocean-liner-shaped beach house at North Avenue Beach. Its sleek, white exterior and panoramic windows gave it a modern, nautical charm, standing proudly against the golden sand.

She looked around, wondering which of the faces in the crowd would be Blake’s. She had no idea what a private security contractor would look like. Maybe he’d be huge and scary, like the Incredible Hulk. Or maybe he’d be small and forgettable, able to blend into the background.

Whatever he ended up looking like, today was a big day. With the help of private security, she felt sure that she’d be able to infiltrate the Lucifer Club. It was the moment she'd been waiting for. A chance to expose the truth that had haunted her for years. She wished she'd plucked up the courage to call Paladin ages ago. In the end though, it had been fear that pushed her over the edge.

She sat on a bench near the beach house, swinging her long pale legs. Her legs, like every other part of her, were spatteredwith pale brown freckles. Her skin never got tan in the summer no matter how much she exposed herself to the sun. She only ever went slightly pink, and then—once the pink faded—right back to ghostly white.

Today, she was wearing white hotpants and a yellow t-shirt with a cartoon sunshine on it. She didn’t need to hide in the shadows right now, so she felt able to be her usual sunny self. But the longer she waited for her burly bodyguard to arrive, the sillier she felt.

What if he didn’t take her seriously? She was twenty-five years old, but dressed more like a kid. Hell, she even wore kids’ clothing. She was only five-foot-tall and bought clothes meant for fourteen-year-old girls. It was kind of convenient, seeing as she was a Little.

The sound of footsteps drew her attention, and she turned to see a tall figure with dark hair approaching with slow, deliberate strides. Blake Marks? It had to be. He wore jeans and a black t-shirt and looked larger than life, more muscular than an action figure. His intelligent blue eyes seemed to be drinking in every detail around him, assessing the situation with expert precision.

There was something about the man’s presence that demanded attention, and Savannah felt a shiver run up her spine as he locked eyes with her.

"Blake?" she asked hesitantly.

"Miss Sweet." His voice was deep and commanding, and Savannah couldn't deny the thrill it sent through her.

"Y-Yeah, that's me," she replied, clearing her throat. "You can call me Savannah if you like. Or Savvy! Thanks for agreeing to meet with me."

Blake's gaze roamed over Savannah's form, taking in her petite figure and curly auburn hair. She felt a flush creeping up her cheeks as she noticed his lingering stare. She had encountered a lot of stares in her life. She had been teased mercilessly as akid for her red hair and freckles. Not to mention the clothes she wore, the way she acted, and the fact she was an orphan. So, she was used to being looked at. But not looked at likethis.

Blake stared at her like he was looking deep, deep inside her, and like he was taking something from her at the same time.

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