Page 84 of Saving Blood

“I’ll have a double Jack,” Blood says, then smiles at me. “And make something nice for my girl.”

I like being referred to as Blood’s girl, mainly because he says it with such affection.

Bolt slides a glass of Jack Daniels in front of Blood, then disappears to the other side of the huge bar. With the crush of people, it’s impossible to see what he’s making, but a few minutes later, he returns with a frothy drink in a frosty glass.

“Try it,” Bolt encourages, then waits like a child with a good report card.

I sip it, then sip again, and lick my lips. “That’s delicious.”

“I knew you’d like it.”

“What is it?”

“My special margarita. Premium tequila, made right here in Mexico, Cointreau, and fresh-squeezed lime juice.” Again his hard face splits into a proud grin. “None of that triple sec shit, only the best.”

“Well, I love it.”

“He’s a frustrated bartender,” Blood jokes.

“It’s nice to have somebody with class who appreciates my skills, instead of the usual shots and beers you guys order.”

Blood nods to my glass. “Just keep them coming.”

The party progresses at a dizzying speed, along with Bolt’s special margaritas.

“Trying to get me drunk?”

“Maybe.”

Bolt leans over the bar. “If this guy is gonna claim you as his old lady,” he grins, “you’re gonna need them.”

I cock my head at Blood. “Claim me as your?—”

“Don’t listen to him.” Blood scowls at Bolt.

“Hey, I’m just repeating what you said at our last church?—”

“Shut it.” Blood sends Bolt a deadly look.

I gaze up at Blood. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

“He’s been hit in the head too many times.” Blood gives Bolt a side-eye then picks up his drink and mine, ushering me to the tables at the rear of the bar. Obviously wanting me away from Bolt. The rest of the Bastards already claimed these tables where they hold court and keep an eye on their surroundings.

I finally got to thank Marisol for her kindness when I needed it the most. Over more margaritas, she and I discuss the finer points of being with a member of the Royal Bastards, and she also alluded to me being Blood’s “old lady.” Belonging to anything permanent is a new experience for me, but I welcome the anxiety along with the closeness and feeling of mutual support. Now I have someone in my corner, and, for the first time ever, I have a sort of family.

Marisol nods to Smoke and Blood in deep conversation. “I’m not going to tell you that it’s always easy, but I will tell you that, once these men make a commitment, it’s real and lasting.”

I’ve seen the easy way Blood relates to his brothers. The obvious trust and respect surface even through the trash talk.

“It’s what I’ve been searching for most of my life.” I’d given Marisol a brief snippet of my experiences the night I stayed with her and Smoke, but she was savvy enough to fill in the blanks without acting intrusive. I knew from Blood that she battled her own past demons too, making her a role model for me.

Marisol squeezes my hand, and the small gesture tells me she understands.

In Blood I found the strength to hope for a better future, and even if that future wasn’t with him, I knew I would survive.

Blood breaks away from the others and makes his way toward us. Is it crazy that I love watching him eat up the space between us? The swagger of his gait, the roll of his hips—yeah, I had it bad.

He plasters that cocky grin on his face. “I hope you’re not scaring my girl with stories about me.”

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