Page 10 of Heartbeats & Highways

“The bitch spilled beer on him and then that guy beat his ass,” the meaty man’s friend said, flinging his hand in the direction of Savage. “We were just trying to have a good time. What the fuck?”

Stu looked at Savage and then at me. “You’re fired, Evie.”

“It wasn’t my fault!” I cried.

“We save the drama for the ring,” Stu said. He looked at Savage. “If you didn’t bring such a crowd with you, I’d make sure you never came back either. Evie, get out.”

“Come on,” Savage said, reaching his hand out for me.

“Leave me alone,” I snapped, whirling and darting through the crowd. It was thick and soupy, and Savage’s impromptu fight agitated the already excited throng. They were hungry for more blood.

“Evie, wait!” Savage called out.

I got to the back exit and flung the door open, stepping into the dark night.

His heavy boots clomped behind me. “Let me take you home.”

I turned to face him. “You got me fired! You’re not even supposed to be here tonight!”

“I came to watch the fights.” His expression darkened. “I saw him grab you. I saw the fear in your eyes. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Not protect you?”

“I’m not yours to protect! And I was handling it.”

“Handling it?” He took a step closer to me, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

I instinctively stepped back.

My movement penetrated his anger, and he immediately halted. His fists slowly uncurled. “You weren’thandlingit. That guy was manhandling you. Not to mention he’s over a hundred pounds heavier than you. He was drunk, and he didn’t look like the type to take no for an answer.”

Everything he said was true—but still. He’d cost me my job. A cash job that paid well.

“Where else am I going to get a job that pays under the table?” I asked brokenly.

“I can get you another job,” he said, taking a tentative step toward me again. “At one of the bars my club owns. You’d be under our protection. No one would think to touch you, or they’d answer to me.”

When I didn’t move, he took a step toward me, and then another, until he was close enough to put his hands on my shoulders.

“I can’t work at a bar,” I stated. “I’m only twenty years old, Savage. Don’t you get it? This was—this was my chance!”

His expression was steady at the mention of my age.

“Your chance for what?” he asked finally.

“My chance to make some cash so I could leave town.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have a destination in mind, I just?—”

He squeezed my shoulders gently and then pulled me toward him. I was pressed against his warm chest, and I shivered in the winter night.

My jacket was still inside, but I wasn’t going to go back for it.

“You’re cold,” he murmured against my hair. He dropped his arms from around me and stepped back.

“What are you doing?” I asked when he took off his leather cut and handed it to me.

He didn’t reply as he unbuttoned his flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He shrugged out of it and handed it to me. Savage was wearing a black tee underneath—a black tee that showed off his defined chest.

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