Page 52 of Savage

“People leave my father’s club all the time. When they want out, they hand in their patch.”

“Your father isn’t my fuckin’ prez, bitch. No Angel hands in their wings; they have ’em stripped, burned off, or blacked out, but no one ever fuckin’ walks away a free man. Betrayal comes at a price, princess: a body bag and a one-way ticket to hell. The best you and I can hope for is you making it out of here in one piece. So get fuckin’ dressed and let me get you out of here.”

“I’m not leaving until he’s begging for forgiveness on his knees.”

“Let’s get one thing fuckin’ straight. If that’s what you’re after then you’re never getting outta here. He is not gonna beg or apologise for ripping your life apart. He will destroy you, and there’s not a goddamned thing you can do about it. You got off lucky, princess. Plenty of girls been where you were, and they never got to leave because they never had someone to fuckin’ save them.” I pick up the short leather skirt and the crop top she had on that exposed half of her breasts, and I throw them at her. “Now, get dressed. Next time I have to tell you, I put you over my fuckin’ shoulder and carry you outta here, and that’s gonna draw a lot more attention than you strutting out in that skirt and wig and pretending like you’re someone else. You got me?”

She doesn’t say anything, but the tears running down her cheeks mean she doesn’t have to. I cross the room and attempt something I’ve never really done before; I comfort her. Or I try to. I don’t know, I probably just look like an insensitive fuckrod, but I take her in my arms, I grasp her chin in my hand and force her face up to mine.

“I don’t know how to do this shit,” I begin, and then try a different tact when I realise her expression has turned angry. “I never had a woman before.”

She gives me a disbelieving look, and I hurry to finish. “Oh, I had plenty of women,”

“You’re off to an awesome start, Daniel. No really, please, keep talking.”

“I’ve had women, but none that were mine, you know?” I breathe out a heavy sigh. “I just, I wanna keep you. I’ve never had someone to depend on me ... until you.”

“I can’t let this go. I can’t—”

“Okay, don’t let it go. Just put it to bed for now. Let’s get you somewhere safe and come up with a better plan than strutting in there and blowing Prez’s head off.” I kiss her forehead, her cheek, her lips. “Let’s keep this pretty face intact. I’ve grown kinda used to it,” I grin. “And I still have a billion uses for it.”

“Fine,” she says, pouting like a fucking child, though the blazing bloodlust in her eyes is anything but childlike. “We put it to rest for now, but we come back with a plan that still involves me blowing his goddamned head off.” She pulls away and slips into her skirt and top. She spends a couple of seconds arranging the wig back into place. Her underwear is a lost cause, but something about riding her on the back of my bike with her legs spread around mine and her bare cunt pressed up against my arse has my dick twitching again.

I ignore it, though, because honestly? I could fuck that pussy all night and still never get tired of it, but I’m not gonna have a pussy left to fuck unless I get her the fuck out of here.

When she’s dressed, I lay one final kiss on her lips. It’s hard not to let it take over, this need to have her, to possess every inch of her body. To teach her who owns that pussy. Who’s always gonna own it.

She pushes me away from her and back towards the door. Before I can open it though she’s in my arms again, wrapping her body around me. I catch her up and slam her into the door. I undo my fly and prepare to bury myself in her for a fourth time, but she pulls away from my lips and shakes her head. “You bruised me. I’m gonna need a day or two to get the feeling back in my pussy, Kick.”

I groan in her ear and tuck my cock back inside my pants. I don’t miss what she said, and I’d find a way to see her, but I don’t know if she grasps the gravity of the situation here. I can’t fucking play house with the bitch that escaped Prez’s grasp. I can’t shack up with the only one that ever slipped through his fingers, and we’ve already established the fact that I can’t just walk away from the club scot-free. That’s never gonna happen for us. Which means that this thing between us is never gonna happen. Not the way she really wants it to. Not the way I want it to.

“I hope you heal quickly then,” I say without thinking.

It’s as if we both just deflate after that. As if my words are a pin through the little fucking bubble of happiness we’ve found in my room tonight. She wriggles out of my hold and slides down the door, shifting her skirt back into place, manoeuvring out from the space in front of me.

“We should go.”

“Yeah,” I say, and pull her back behind me as I open the door and peek out. There’s only an empty hallway, so I tug her out with me and make for the back entrance. It’s the longer route, but we’re less likely to be seen that way, and even if we are seen the lack of lighting in the lot, and that fucking hideous wig she’s wearing combined with that outfit mean she probably wouldn’t be recognised anyway.

All the same, I hurry her out into the lot, through the door that I dragged her kicking and screaming through only a few short weeks ago, and now, for the second time in the month that I’ve known her, I’m sneaking her out of the compound, right under Angel noses.

When we round the building, my bike is lined up alongside the others, but the lot isn’t empty like I’d hoped. Tank comes storming towards me. I pause, not knowing what to do. Not knowing where we stand. It’s true he helped Lauren escape once before, but he took a bullet to the arm for it, and he almost got caught doing it. He’d almost lost his life because of it. I don’t know if he’d be willing to take that risk again.

He gets up in my face, stands toe to toe with me, his jaw set, shoulders strung tight with anger. “Need to fuckin’ talk to you, brother.”

I shove princess behind me, only she’s not so fucking happy about being hidden. She pulls the piece I confiscated from her out from the back of my jeans and turns it on Tank.

Tank stands with his arms folded across his chest. He doesn’t flinch as she levels the gun on his face.

“Bitch, are you fuckin’ crazy?”

“He let this happen,” she screams, and Jesus fucking Christ I’ve never wanted to flatten a woman so bad in my life. She has no fucking self-preservation, yelling like a banshee in the parking lot of an MC that wants to see her pretty insides on the outside.

“Then so did fuckin’ I,” I shout back, getting in her face and forcing her watery gaze up to mine. I wrestle the gun from her. “Trust me when I say Tank is the only reason you’re still standing here in this fuckin’ car park, yellin’ about shit you have no right to yell about.”

“He’s the one that took me,” she spits. All at once, my ears start to ring, and the hairs on my neck stand up straight.

“That true?” I ask Tank, weighing the gun in my hand.

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