Page 5 of Savage Outlaw

“Thought you’d last longer than a minute,Hermano.”

Butcher glanced at Capone as he climbed out of the ring in the club basement gym. “It was more like seven minutes.” Surely. It felt like an eternity.

But then, one punch from Hawk had sent Butcher’s brain into fucking Narnia.

He was not a fighter by trade. He’d been in enough scrapes over the years, could handle himself, for sure, but getting in the way of a VP with a lust for pain was a whole other kettle of fish.

Never again, he vowed. Hawk could spar and kill all the prospects before he climbed in there with him again. And the kicker of it was, Butcher knew Hawk had only been going at him at half percent of his strength. The fucker.

A shower put him back together again and he’d only just slipped into dark jeans and a long sleeved undershirt when a thump on his door brought his attention. “Yo, Butcher, we need you out here.”

It was a prospect with a busted hand waiting for Butcher to fix him up out in the main area of the club. It was a busy Saturday; most everyone was around doing their thing. “What did you do, punch an elephant?” He asked, checking the knuckles on Slider’s right hand. Luckily, there were no broken bones, but his hand would hurt like a bitch for the next few days. He patched the guy up and headed to where he smelled food. Running a hand through his muddy brown hair as he eyed up the spread in the kitchen.

The women really went in on a weekend with the grub.

He was not complaining at all.

He liked cooking and was good at it but found no point cooking a shit ton at home only for himself. If he didn’t eat at the club then he always grabbed takeout on the way home. Those who didn’t have an old lady yet did the same. Sexist or what the fuck ever, he’d prefer to have someone at home he could cook with and for.

“Hey, doc. I made those pepperoni rolls you like.” Ellie announced from across the kitchen. He flashed her a grin and grabbed a plate, his belly protesting to fill it already. The way Hawk went at him, it was even a wonder he could chew.

“Thanks, Ellie. The clinic doesn’t need you today?” She worked in a veterinarian’s office and she was dedicated to the animals. She often helped Lawless to rehome his cats.

“Nah, weekend off for once.” She looked sad, but he didn’t delve because he didn’t want to know about chick drama.

He let Hawk bash his fucking brains in because he’d woken from a vivid dream about a woman that wouldn’t leave him alone.

The woman he’d last had eight long months ago and she was still digging her talons into his psyche.

Owning him from a distance.

He’d climbed into the ring with the VP—a damn puppet, in hopes Hawk would knock the visions of her smiling and begging, with his name dripping off her acid tongue, from his head.

It didn’t work and now he was sore all over.

Eight months. And before that it was a year. Before that it was six months.

Constantly drawn to a woman he couldn’t have.

Not for any other reason other than he’d get killed if he ever attempted to make her belong to him.

She hated him because he didn’ttry.

Butcher hated himself for the same reason.

But she had no idea.

Any fucking way.

The food was inhaled fast, as was the coffee. He poured himself a second one and took it with him in a to-go cup. There was no reason for him to be around, other than he liked being at the club more than anywhere else.

Back in the day, his dad was a biker. They still rode together when he headed home to Oklahoma. He enjoyed being around the smell and sounds of bikes and the rumbling feel of one under him. It’s why the life of an outlaw suited him. If he gets to fuck off the government by living the outlaw lifestyle, then all the better.

They never did him or his family any favors.

The healthcare system let his mom die on a fucking trolley in a hallway while they waited to transfer her cancer riddled body to a hospice. They didn’t call Butcher or his dad, so she died alone. And then a year later, his dad got caught up in a convenience store robbery. And because he stopped the maniac from shooting up the place by snapping the guy’s leg in two and beating him unconscious—saving a pregnant woman, the two young kids serving and himself, he got tossed in jail.Fuckers.

The law had always been wrong, more so these days. Butcher didn’t give a fuck if him and his club bent the rules. They made a lot of money doing things their way and now his dad didn’t need to worry about the stupid pension his former job paid out to him each month because Butcher made sure his old man was set.

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