Page 7 of Blade

"I'll take that as a yes," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. "I'm not much of a cook, but I can manage soup and grilled cheese."

"You don't have to?—"

"Rule number one," he reminded her. "Taking care of yourself."

She sighed. "Fine."

He moved to the kitchen and began pulling items from the refrigerator. "You're going to eat, then shower, then sleep. Tomorrow we'll talk about the rest of the rules."

"There are more?" she asked incredulously.

"Oh, little girl," he chuckled darkly. "We're just getting started."

"Why you?" she asked.

He glanced over his shoulder. "What?"

"Why did they send you to get me? Why not Savage or Irish? Or Lucky himself?"

Blade turned back to the stove, where he was heating up soup. "Because I'm the enforcer."

"And?"

"And the enforcer handles problems," he said matter-of-factly.

She flinched at that. "So I'm a problem."

He sighed, setting down the spoon and turning to face her fully. "No, Lily. You're not a problem. You're a responsibility. My responsibility now."

"I didn't ask for this," she said, her voice small.

“I did. You are mine, Lily. I’ve known it since the first play date we had together. I’ve bided my time. I’ve been patient. But, when I found out you were in danger… the gloves came off. I wasn’t going to let you run from me. Hide. Put yourself in danger. I told the club I was coming to get you and I would keep you safe. And now, here we are."

Their eyes met across the room, an unspoken understanding passing between them. "Here we are," she echoed softly.

He nodded once, then turned back to making their meal. That was one less thing he had to tell her. Oh, but he remembered, there was something else Lily didn't know.

Blade had her stuffed rabbit. And he planned to give it back to her tonight, once she was clean and fed and tucked safely into his bed.

Where she belonged.

CHAPTER 2

Lily woke with a start, heart hammering in her chest. For a moment, she couldn't remember where she was. The bed was too soft, the sheets too clean. This wasn't the Lucky 8 Motel with its lumpy mattress and cigarette-burned bedspread. The air wasn’t damp with a mildew smell that gave her a headache.

Then it all came rushing back. Blade. The Spartan Watchmen enforcer had found her. Had brought her to his cabin.

She sat up slowly, wincing as pain shot through her ankle. The digital clock on the nightstand read 7:03 AM. Beside it sat a glass of water and two pills.

He'd been in here while I slept.

The thought should have terrified her. Instead, it sent a confusing mix of emotions swirling through her. Relief. She didn’t know why, but she trusted the large, overbearing motorcycle club officer. He’d been kind to her at The Citadel. In fact, she’d decided he would have been her mark had she gone through with her end of the blackmail scheme. She couldn’t go through with it. Turns out, she didn’t have the courage to infiltrate a motorcycle club. Even if all of its members were military veterans. She knew they would do anything, even breakthe law and commit murder, to protect theirs. Although, they did live by a moral code. They only hurt others when they had absolutely no other choice in the matter. She’d spent four months in the area, working retail at a local boutique while attending all the Little’s Playdates at The Citadel. When they’d told her that Savannah was coming and had the same job as her, Lily felt relief. Maybe Savannah could do what Lily couldn’t. And, once Savannah succeeded, Lily would be free, too. She’d do anything to help Savannah accomplish her mission. She didn’t have to do much. Savannah caught the eye of Savage pretty quickly. Lily on the other hand… hadn’t felt like any of the men were into her that way. Sure, Blade had built LEGOS with her and made her a snack plate.

But she didn’t get the feeling he’d wanted her. Turns out, she was wrong. If their conversation last night had any merit to it. Blade was moving slowly, giving her space and respect. She didn’t know what to think about him. He was handsome, and not nearly as scary as some of the other men in the Spartan Watchmen. He still kept himself clean cut, his military background obvious in his haircut. Last night, he’d respected her when she fought back sleeping in his bed and allowed her to sleep in his guest room next door instead. After almost falling asleep at the dinner table, he’d spoken words that sent goosebumps up her spine.

Tonight you may shower alone, little girl. Get some sleep. Tomorrow everything changes.

She glanced around the room. It was sparsely furnished but comfortable. A queen-sized bed, a dresser, a nightstand. A door she assumed led to a bathroom. Nothing personal. No photos, no clutter. It could have been a hotel room.

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