Page 4 of Savage Outlaw

This was the shit that made things so freaking weird around here lately.

Her dad didn’t encourage her to date. At all.Anyone.

If it were up to him, she’d be a practicing nun.

The small number of failed dates she’d had always came to an untimely end because no one could stand up to the intimidation radiating out of Axel Tucker.

But never—not ever in a million years—has he ever encouraged her to date from within the clubhouse. She’d see flying pigs first.

About to unglue her tongue from the roof of her mouth, to ask what mind altering drugs he was taking, he went on, with a tick making his jaw tighter. “Far as I’m concerned, you’re engaged to be his old lady, so get used to it and stop fucking throwing a tantrum.”

Judgement delivered. Axel strode off like he hadn’t just brought a hammer down on her life and left her with a smirking guy.

Thud.

Thud.

Whoosh.

Blood rushed through her ears as she finally took a breath.

Reno’s old lady?

Staring daggers at him, she spun around and headed for the door.

Fuck working.

Fuck this whole fucking club.

“And fuck you too.” She aimed over her shoulder at her so-calledfiancé.

TWO

“Butcher by name. Biker by nature.” - Thaddeus Savage

Pain rattled around The Butcher’s skull like he was a human pinball machine.

Taking a second to regain his bearings, he bent at the waist, resting on his knees, sweat dripping out of him down to the floor and he huffed in the air. Trying to dislodge the dizziness from his vision.

“You mad fuck.” He wheezed, so sure his knees were going to go out from under him like a damn dainty princess.

Hawk chuckled like a sinister motherfucker. Waiting for Butcher to regain his strength just so he could lay ten bells of shit out of him again. He needed Lucifer to step in and take his minion on earth home, before Hawk busted his lungs out.

When his equilibrium somewhat returned to his battered brain, he rose to his six-four height to see the peanut gallery around the ring laughing their asses off. If he had strength in his body, he’d flip the finger to Tag.

You’ll be fine.He’d assured Butcher.Hawk will go easy on you.

Bull fucking shit.

“You had enough already?” The VP asked and Butcher gave him awhat the fuck do you thinklook.

Hawk smirked and started to wipe down with a towel.

Sparring with the VP was no easy feat. He’d never done it before and vowed from his near death experience he wouldn’t be doing it again at any point in the future. No wonder Tag—the professional fighter in their club—was cackling.

Money started to change hands. Tag taking it from Capone and Dix. Coop handed money to Grinder.

Those fuckers betting on his death.

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