Page 82 of The Outlaw's Savage Revenge

“Is this yours?” I ask as I move closer to the glass wall, absently noting the cameras tucked into corners. This isn’t just a house; it’s a fortress.

Cade nods. “Another pit stop. Come on.”

He leads the way up the winding stairs to one of the bedrooms.

I stop at the sight. Shelves line one wall, displaying rows of ammunition like trophies. This is more than a safe house. It’s an armory. A place to prepare. But for what?

“Like Sophie’s place?”

Cade nods. “Yeah.”

I swallow back the unease pooling in my stomach. He must have places like this everywhere—a network of hideouts. Because he’s always on the move.

Once Cade leaves me in the bedroom, I dart into the bathroom and lock the door, my heart slamming against my ribs.

Now. It’s now or never.

My hands shake as I dig the phone out from inside my bra. The screen lights up, and I fumble through the setup, my fingers trembling as I tap through options. The seconds feel like they’re slipping away, but I push through the panic.

Finally, the email app loads and I type a message to the one person I vowed never to speak to again.

Subject: SOS - Just In Case

Hey,

Don’t freak out but I think I’m in trouble. I’m stuck with this guy. He’s hot as hell but also UNHINGED.

Honestly, I don’t know who I trust less—him or myself.

Which is why I need a backup plan: you.

Yeah, you. Says a lot about how shit my life is right now, doesn’t it?

We’re headed to San Diego, camping somewhere in the Black Hills forest tonight.

If I don’t check in every night with my location, tell Uncle Jacques . . . and call the cops.

PS: Don’t think for a second this means I’ve forgiven you, stupid bitch. I haven’t.

Luna

I hit send. I probably sound entitled considering I haven’t spoken to the woman since I cussed her out six months ago, but she’ll do as I ask. She fucking owes me.

I hide the phone behind the folded towels in the cupboard and leave the bathroom.

As I descend the spiral staircase, Cade’s voice drifts up from below. I stop to listen.

“Yes. She’s the reason I didn’t show up. But I promise, it’s not what you think.”

My stomach knots. I’ve never heard him speak to anyone like that—not brusque or menacing, but like a father managing a difficult child.

“I know what I said, Scar. Now I’m telling you to go.”

There is a pause, and then his voice hardens with impatience. “Well, too fucking bad. I’m tied up here and I need an extra pair of hands. So how about you take Kat and get your ass over there? Thank you.”

The call ends, and I descend into the living area to find Cade standing by the wall of glass, his broad shoulders outlined against the moonlit forest beyond.

Saint lies sprawled in the corner, his massive form rising and falling in a steady rhythm, dead to the world.

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