Page 103 of Savage

“Okay.” She nods her head slowly, as if she’s afraid even that action will be too much and that One Eye’s going to charge through the door and beat the shit out of her. He’s a dumb fuck, that’s for sure, but I seriously doubt he’d try anything with me here. Which just makes me hate him even more.Gutless wonder.

“Thanks, Tank,” she says, but she’s resigned, and I’m sure she thinks I’m not going to do shit about this.She’s dead wrong.

I follow her, and give her a playful smack on the arse as she walks down the hall ahead of me. I don’t want her feeling awkward about what just happened or didn’t happen. After all, it’s not her fault I’m a complete fucking chump.

I walk past the threesome, which has turned into an all-out orgy now that Diesel and Squeals, our newest prospects have joined the fuckfest.

Brooke rolls her eyes at me and then she throws a wink over her shoulder as she addresses the room, “You boys are going to wear Neisha out.”

“You offering up yourself to the slaughter, sweet thing?” Diesel growls low in his throat, and I chuckle.Cocky bastard doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into. He walks over to Brooke, dick on full display for the entire room. You’d think being in a clubhouse of rough and bad-arse fucks that you’d never get to see another man’s cock. You’d be wrong. Between the time I’d spent on the inside, and the time I’ve been with the Saints, and the Angels before that, well … I’ve seen more than enough dick to last a lifetime. More than enough to know I earned my road name Tank in every sense of the word.

Instead of leaving like I’d planned, I head down the hall and talk to Prez about the way One Eye’s treating the girls.

I tell him he has to sort that fucker out or I’ll be having myself a little play date. The bastard gives me a humourless laugh, and says, “Don’t wanna bring Ivy back, do ya?” I fold my arms over my chest and just glare at him. “Yeah, yeah, she’s your old lady now, I got it.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m flying down the M4 on my bike. I pull off at the last fast food joint on my way home and pick up some dinner for Ivy. In a way, I’m dreading what I’ll find when I walk through that door. She’s had plenty of time to run, but I can’t keep her tied to a fucking chair forever. She was fool enough to fall for it once, but she won’t fall for it again. I took a huge fucking risk leaving her unrestrained and to her own devices in that cabin, and I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite me in the arse.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

TANK

Fear twists my gut when I pull into the garage and trudge up the stairs towards my house. I don’t know what I’ll find, and it scares the shit out of me. I’d expected the door to be flung wide, her shit gone and my house torn apart for any cash and pot she could find.

Ivy curled up on the couch, is not what I expected at all.

She glances up from her spot tucked in against the side of the sofa, and I’m greeted with a small genuine smile, but then her gaze darts back to the TV, and my happiness is short-lived. Her attention is fixated on some show with hot women in prison uniforms.

“Hey,” I say.

“Shh.” She puts a hand up to silence me and turns up the sound on the remote.

I grunt and throw the food on the table. “Dinner’s in the fuckin’ bag. You might wanna heat it up, though. I’m going to bed.”

She glances up at me, and Jesus Christ I’m a pathetic excuse for a man because all I want is to lie at her feet and have her rub my belly like a fucking worthless dog. I should be baring my teeth to this bitch and showing her what’s what. Instead, I’m a fucking dejected puppy. “You’re not eating?”

“I ate already.”

“Real food or pussy?”

If only she knew. I haven’t wanted to touch another fucking bitch since I realised I was in love with her. I laugh and sit down next to her. “Nothing like a two-course meal.”

She whacks me hard, and then she moves closer. “You don’t smell like pussy.”

“What do I smell like?”

“Leather, exhaust, night air and a faint whiff of clubhouse.”

“So pussy then?” I laugh. She chuckles and lifts my arm, tucking herself beneath it and nestling into the crook of my shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re home. I was bored without you,” she murmurs.Home. My heart gives a pitiful little tug hearing her say that word.

“What did you do today?” I ask, tracing my fingertips along the pale flesh of her arm in lazy spirals.

“Laid around, watched bad daytime television,” she says, snuggling her head against my chest. “And I went outside.”

The hand that was stroking her arm stills, and tension coils within me. I clench my teeth and practically fucking growl my disapproval.

“Butch isn’t a very good guard dog, you know?” she says, matter of fact. As if she’s talking about the goddamned colour of the sky or some other shit you just drop into conversation. “He practically licked me to death.”

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