Page 34 of Dirty Salvation

From the moment he'd noticed her Rider had felt an overwhelming urge to protect and also to go homicidal maniac on the fuckers who had damaged her.

Instead of waking her as he wanted to do, he closed the door quietly and he boiled himself to a state of wakefulness for the next fifteen minutes in the shower. With his wet hair tied back in a haphazard bun, jeans pulled up his legs and a long sleeve gray shirt, he was glad he was dressed when he stepped back through. Because Zara was awake, sitting up in his bed tenderly poking around her swollen blackened eye.

He could detect his presence startled her, best to start as he meant to go on, he mused, he wasn't gonna walk on fucking eggshells with her, not when she awoke something within him.

“Good mornin', darlin’ you slept a while. You must be hungry, we can see about getting you somethin’.“

She gave him a shy look, otherwise didn’t speak.

And Rider was too busy looking at the way the shirt she’d slept in was falling off one creamy shoulder, to care if she replied.

His already dry tongue felt like the Sahara sand in his mouth.

He'd left one of his bigger shirts for her to wear last night seeing as the only clothes she'd had on he'd tossed in the furnace along with their filth and stench vowing never to see her in them again, he admitted she looked good in his shirt.

Damn good. Real fuckinggood.

Rein it in, dirty bastard.The last thing Zara needed was to exchange one perverted fucker with bad intentions for another.

“Did----did you sleep in here?” he heard, cranking his neck around to see how she was looking down at the floor to his makeshift bed he had yet to fold away. He did it now, striding the room to hook both in his hands. Putting them away consisting of tossing the blanket and pillow on the chair.

“Yes. It’s my room.” he smiled, practically seeing how her brain’s cogs began to turn in all the right directions. He recalled she was smart. She could join the dots.

“Oh. I see.”

“My room, darlin’ so let’s get this outer the way, I can guess what you’re thinkin’ and you're only half right."for now. "You’ll stay here in my room. I’ll stay here in my room. We’ll sleep, that’s it. Got it?”

Zara blinked giving Rider the impression of an old wisely owl. All wide-eyed and curious. He didn’t like seeing her with bruises, though. He’d send Butcher to check on them once he got some food in her.

“I-- well, isn’t there another room I can use? A sofa, even. I saw several out there. I’m easy. Stick me anywhere. I don’t want to put you out of your room.” she pointed to the door. He assumed she meant the common room.

No fucking way was she sleeping out there with his boys in and out constantly.

Was she fucking crazy?

Washecrazy?

He had several unused flops now a couple of his boys had set up perma-residence in town, he could easily put Zara in one of those. Why was he insisting on this?

“We’re both in here, babe. End of.” he gave her his back while he shrugged into his cut, the leather fit him like a glove.

He liked that feeling of sliding it on, it gave Rider a sensation of comfort, of home, of peace, of belonging. Didn’t matter what kinda trouble and strife his club got into, and it was always a lot, too much sometimes for them to keep their heads above water, but once his cut was on, and he was sat at the head of the table in church Rider felt indestructible.

Offering Zara his room, his protection was as close to a guarantee of safety as the president could give. He was saying;take my bed, no fucker will ever harm you again, Icy, not while I have breath in my body.

But typical Rider and his infamous impatience, he growled low in his throat when she tried to protest again. Why couldn't she just accept it?

Women always liked the words and the dispute.

Not inhisclub.

“Enough, Zara. I’ma grab you some sweats to put on, we’ll see about getting you some clothes that actually fit you today, make a list of the shit you need, a good list, you hear? If you’re gonna be here a few weeks, you’re gonna need more than a shirt and pants. The kitchen is to the right, down the hall and hang another right. I’ll see you there.”

Like a living thing had crawled up his ass, the swift and potent possessiveness Zara provoked in him stretched and vibrated in his belly, making him close the door behind him with some force.

He cursed under his breath, feeling out of his depth with one stupid conversation she'd barely even participated in.

He’d wanted women before, but not like this.

---