Page 5 of The Warrior's Salvation

"I, uh…" I start to say, probably too quiet for him to hear me, and then like a large predator is smashing through trees that bend or break ahead of him, Lochlan O'Rourke appears out of nowhere. Bodies are pushed to the side, and he grabs the man in front of me by his neck and shoves him hard.

I gasp, backing up, as a spot opens up in the middle of the crowd. The man stumbles to his knees then stands back up. He looks furious, like he's going to attack Lochlan, but when his eyes rise to meet Loch's face, he blanches and shakes his head.

"Sorry, man…" he shouts. "I didn't know."

The blond backs away, hands raised in defense, and I scoff and scowl at my unwanted protector.

"What the hell was that for?" Before my words even form fully, Lochlan grabs me by the bicep and starts hauling me toward the exit. I glance over my shoulder, wincing as the sheer force of his movement catapults me away from Kelly. She's lost in drink and dance, and I find myself being manhandled out of the club and into an alley.

"What the actual feck?" I jerk my arm away from Lochlan as the door shuts and the music is nearly silenced. I can hear the thump of the bass and ringing in my ears. His chest is heaving and he looks furious.

"Do you even know who that was?" Lochlan plants his hands on his hips as he glares at me like he's my fucking father.

"What does it matter? It's not like I'm marrying him." I tug at the dress again, acutely aware of how high my hem was creeping. My fingers brush over my slick panties, damp with arousal, and for a split second I don't see Lochlan as the problem but my solution. But here? In the alley, after he basically assaulted me, is not the way I want that to happen.

"He's a fucking murdering ass, that's who. He just got out of prison, or didn’t you see the tattoo on his chest?"

Embarrassment creeps in and I feel my cheeks start to burn. I swallow hard, thinking how despite my abhorrence to men treating me like their little doll they have to protect, I'm grateful that he did stop that. You never know who might pick you up on a dance floor.

"What the feck are you even doing here?" I hiss, trying to mask my relief with feigned anger. God, he's hot and I'm drunk and I want him.

"I own the place, and if you know what's good for you, you won't come back. Evelyn, this?—"

"I fecking told you to call me Evie," I snip, turning to stomp up the alley. I want to go back in and I don't care if he doesn't like it.

Loch catches up with me, grabbing my elbow again. "Where are you going?"

"I am going back inside." I try to yank my arm away again, but he's too strong. I stumble and almost fall, and he pins me against his body as my head spins. My tits are crushed against his ribs, one almost halfway out. If he looked down, he'd see my nipple exposed.

"I'm getting you a cab and you're going home. Your da would kill you." He glares at his phone, and I splay my hand on his chest. His heart is throwing itself against his ribs violently. I let my eyes flutter shut and wonder what he'd feel like between my thighs.

"Well, I don't want to go home," I say, but my protests are getting weaker. I'm tired and drunk. I shouldn’t have had so many beers with Jasper.

"Well, you're going home. A Mob dive isn't a good place for you, Evie." Lochlan's voice softens and instead of hearing a man who's angry with me, I hear concern. Then I hear, "Jasp… Evie's at the Underground. Come get her. She's wasted and she was about to fuck Hacksaw… Yeah… No, I'm with her. She's not going back in."

My eyes are heavy, body feeling gooey as I lay my head on his chest. "Loch, you're such a jerk," I coo, sucking in a deep whiff of his cologne. He smells good, manly and intoxicating. I wish I weren’t so drunk because I'd probably try to kiss him.

"I know, Evie… I know."

The next thing I know, Jasper is here and Lochlan is laying me in his back seat. I don't want to go home to wet dreams, but at least they'll be of Lochlan O'Rourke's thick biceps as he wraps his arms around me. And hopefully, I won’t wake up with a raging hangover.

4

LOCHLAN

When Jasper drives off with Evelyn in his back seat almost passed out, I slink back into the club and find my way back to the bar. I watched her saunter in, already mostly drunk and dressed like a floozie. Draco would kill me if he knew I let her prance around the dance floor like that, grinding on her friend, then that asshole who would've taken her home and done unspeakable things to her. When he asked me to keep her safe, I took it personally.

Moody, I slump into a seat and nod at Siphon who slings drinks. He tips his chin up at me ever so slightly, letting me know he's on his way with my Tennessee Fire, and I cross my arms, leaning on the bar with my elbows planted. The music still thumps, but they've turned it down a bit now, ever since I made a show of telling that prick off. He should've known better than to fuck around in my club, and especially with Draco's daughter. It's not like people here don't know how things work.

"Pissy tonight, hey?" Connor sinks onto the stool next to me facing outward toward the dance floor while I flick a glance at Siphon hoping he's got my drink ready. I've already had a few, but not enough to simmer my bad mood. This week hasn't been the best, and I haven't found a way to calm down yet.

"Do you even know me?" I grumble, thinking of that pervert putting his hands on Evie's hips, dry humping her thigh like he owned her. Things like this irritate the fuck out of me and I can't even say why, though Ro's wife Maeve would tell me some psychobabble about PTSD and why Maelyn's death is the root cause of it all.

I still see the building engulfed in flames when I shut my eyes at night, hear her screams when the room is silent. It's why I prefer the pounding noise of the club, why I sleep with the fan on.

"Fecking hell, Loch. Lighten up." Conner bumps me with his shoulder, and I grunt disapprovingly. None of them get it, and I don't want to sit and talk about my feelings to explain. It'd be better if they just fuck off entirely. The past eighteen months have been nothing but one fucking terror after another.

If it wasn't dealing with my brothers and their women getting kidnapped or attacked, it was watching my own life start to unravel. I know I’m spiraling, drinking too much, angry all the time, and there is no fucking way to stop it. So I just keep my head down and bite my tongue a lot. Eventually, my life will stop spinning, and I'll see straight again. Or I'll die first. One or the other.

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