Page 30 of Savage Devotion
I can’t tell what he’s saying. Club business most likely, but a few minutes later he’s back inside and the hammering starts.
“They are going to cover the window for now.”
For now? Meaning there is more to come. “I’m not here to start some freaking war. Or land in the middle of a turf war. Been there, done that. Not going back to that kind of hell ever again,” I huff, dropping my hands to my sides. It’s better than slapping that passive arrogance off his face.
He doesn’t respond for a long moment. I think he’s shocked to hear I don’t come from some hippy family out west with my flowing skirts and easygoing vibe.
His expression turns pensive and his lips are white from him pressing them into a thin line. He has questions. I can see it clearly on his face. But instead of asking them, he says, “They will stand guard over that front door until I give the order they can stand down.”
In other words, he doesn’t care what I say. He’s going to do this his way.
He prowls across the front of my bookstore and suddenly I feel a lot like a rabbit being hunted by a wolf.
I take a step back. Then another.
“Huh, is that so?” I purse my lips and consider my admittedly limited options, not feeling as bold as before.
His smirk turns animalistic. “It is.”
The huskiness in his voice dips to shiver-inducing levels.
I take another step in the opposite direction. “What if I say no?”
The enormity of the moment crashes over me. I run and he’ll give chase and when he catches me then what?
“You can try. They won’t listen. The Savage Reign crew only takes orders from their president.” It’s small, almost unnoticeable but the slight shrug of indifference grates against my nerves.
Arrogant prick. I’m walking in circles, aiming for the back room which has a back exit.
“I don’t need you or your crew.”
“Hey, Prez, don’t mean to interrupt. Ash sent me. Said you need me to do somethin’?”
Standing in what feels like the Bermuda triangle of situations precariously hovering over the edge of an unseen abyss, the Savage to my right looks expectant at the man to my left.
“Wolf, good man. I need you at the door. Ash will explain what’s gone down. Keep your phone on you and stay dialed in with your VP. If you see any Vultures or suspicious activity let us know.”
Shaggy hair falls over a smooth forehead as the young man, maybe a year or two older than me, nods. “You got it, Prez.” Hard eyes turn to me. He doesn’t look like he’s been in the biker life long. The scent of new clings to him. But there’s a color ofdarkness that hangs around his aura I’ve grown to associate with a hard life growing up.
I hold a hand up when he starts to walk away. “Wait. You don’t have to do that. Truly. It’s not necessary. The sheriff rides by often and he checks in.” I throw a wide-eyed look at an unmoving Reaper. “Tell him. I’m serious. I don’t need this or you.”
“With all due respect, ma’am, that old-timer is always lookin’ for a way to shut us down. And, don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t take orders from you.”
Blunt.
Okay then.
I whirl on the ball of my foot just in time to be thrown over a massive shoulder.
“Liam Black!” I scream and pound my fists into his muscled back. He marches toward the back and slams the door behind him. He plucks me down in the middle of the small room. Near the end of the bed is a small bag large enough to fit a few changes of clothes.
Reaper picks it up and wiggles it to knock out any of the contents. “Fill this up with what you need to last a few days.”
Just as he says that a white tube falls to the floor by his feet.
Fuck. Me.
My pulse speeds up when he bends over and picks up the pregnancy test I kept for sentimental reasons.
