Page 37 of Savage Outlaw

“Is it over for good with you two if she’s with Reno?”

Those innocent words grated through the front of his brain.

It’s not as though Butcher hadn’t figured one day; she’d get into a relationship with someone else. He didn’t want to face it.

He felt possessive over her. All his brain wanted to do was shout a war cry of ‘mine’ until every fucker in a twenty block radius knew who she belonged to.

His obsession was gonna get him killed.

He didn’t tell Tag about her late night visit or what that meant for her so-called engagement.

Instead he turned his head to ask, “you ever felt a connection to a woman, Tag? More than just your dick,” he added when Prince charming started to smirk.

A wave of dark brown hair walked by stopping Tag’s answer. She smiled demurely at him and nodded at his “Hey, Marianna,” then carried on through the gym. It was only as she reached the office that Butcher clicked why her face was familiar. She went into the office and closed the door.

“That’s one of Grigori’s Russian women. What’s she doing here?”

It was some sick shit from months ago. The night Grigori was killed, theSoulshelped free his stable of hostages from a porno nightmare. Marianna was part of that slavery. Far as he knew though, all those women were relocated elsewhere.

“You know I was the one to get her out of that warehouse and I saw her at the hospital?”

Butcher hadn’t known the second part, but he bobbed his head.

“I felt bad for her, that shit … I can’t imagine what they endured at Grigori’s hand.” Tag was up on his feet now like he was agitated, hands going into his hair and Butcher wondered if Tag had caught feelings for a woman he shouldn’t feel for. Because that seemed to be the norm now for theSouls. Hooking up with a Russian associated to an enemy … fuck, who knew what kind of brainwashed Stockholm syndrome crap she had embedded in her head.

“Anyway, I saw her a few weeks later in the diner. I don’t know how she knew me, but she froze like I was gonna slap her, Butcher. Swear, man, I wanted to puke every time I saw her, and she gave me the same look. I talked to her, told her if she ever needed any help to give me a call or stop by the club. We had a few coffees.” When Butcher raised his brows silently, Tag added, “nothing like that.”

“You’re not into her?”

“It’s not like that.”

Not a real answer, Butcher noted.

“When I bought the gym, I needed someone to take care of it, cleaning and office stuff. She’s been here a few weeks. Hardly know she’s here. She ghosts in and out, never talks to anyone, hardly talks to me unless I speak to her first.”

There was a lot Butcher could have said to his friend. Mainly was he fucking insane helping anyone from their enemy camp.

No one could guess how spies played, how deep they could go undercover to get what they wanted. No one would know if this chick was playing an exceptionally long con by getting friendly with Tag to collect info on theSouls. Grigori was one cog in an extended Russian chain. Everything on that front had been quiet since his death but who was to say it was truly over?

And with Lawless in prison, they didn’t have their skilled hacker to scrape the layers back of this woman’s story to see if her motives checked out as innocent.

Butcher didn’t like it. He didn’t want to see Tag being fooled.

“Just be careful, man. A pretty face isn’t always just a pretty face, yeah?”

* * *

In the office, Marianna stood at the single window, making sure no one was approaching. The boss rarely came in here when he was training but she was always so cautious.

It was excitement and dread she was feeling as she lifted the landline telephone out of its port and started to dial the long number.

Never once averting her gaze through the partially closed blinds.

She’d been caught unawares only once before. Since she had gained her freedom by sheer will and determination to live, she swore it would never happen again. Never would anyone get the upper hand over her.

The moment the voice on the other end answered she felt her lungs expand with joy. She smiled, her other hand holding her throat, her pulse wild.

In rapid Russian she talked quietly.

---