Page 43 of All's Fair in Love & Chaos
Saige’s engine roars to life under me, and I push the throttle hard enough to make the tires scream and spin out. I make the ten-minute drive in six, my thoughts a jumbled mess of what-ifs and worst-case scenarios. Who else has figured out her identity? Who will be coming for her? I have the strongest urge to kill them all in cold blood and lay them at her feet for even daring to cast judgment on my queen.
I pull the bike to an abrupt stop outside a large, Pacific Northwest-style home, and double-check the tracker. She would have heard the rumble of the bike, and as I race up the steps, the door flings open, a gun pointed right at my head.
Saige stands there like a goddess, her brown eyes narrowed at me, gun cocked and loaded like she really would put a bullet between my eyes. She’s stunning.
“You’re okay,” I say on a rushed, relieved breath. I want to move to her, pull her into my arms and breathe in her scent. But I don’t know where her head is at, and I have no interest in crossing Saige’s boundaries.
“You came.”
“You think I’d let anyone get away with taking the only thing that matters to me?”
Her shoulders deflate slightly, her eyes flashing with hurt. It happens so fast that had I not been paying attention, I would have missed it.
“I’m gonna need you to get your head out of your ass and give me back what belongs to me.”
Saige pulls the keys to my bike from her tight pocket, throwing them at me. I knock them to the side as soon as they’re within reach.
“Not that.”
“But you just said . . .”
“I know what I said, vixen. If you think my bike is the most important thing to me, then you haven’t been paying attention. I would chase you to the ends of the earth if it meant I could lay my eyes on you one more time.” As I speak the words, I watch as they sink into her skin, seeping into the marrow of her bones, realization hitting her with force. “I know your secret.”
Her impenetrable eyes flash up to me, blinking. “What’s that, Camden?”
“Willow. She was your sister. It’s your calling card. You’re the killer taking out club members. It’s been you all along, right under my nose.” Saige’s steely resolve only seems to sharpen; that fierce, fearless backbone rearing its head. She doesn’t even have the audacity to look shocked.
“So, what? Are you going to kill me now, Chaos? Going to be the hero that tells everyone he got the big bad willow vigilante, taking out all the scum of the earth one dick at a time,” she mocks. I cock my head to the side, running my fingers over the scruff of my facial hair.
“No, vixen, your secret is going to die with me. Because I’m yours, and I’m gonna stand right beside you while we take on anyone who tries to hurt us. I told you, you’re safe with me. I meant it.”
“So that’s why you’re here? To tell me you know my secret?”
“No, I’m here to protect what’s mine. You’re in danger, and I don’t even think you realize how much.
“As you pointed out, I’m the Willow Killer; I’m always in danger. Hell, I seem to welcome it with open arms.”
“Not like this, you don’t. We work with a private investigator who specializes in the dark web and the underground. I tasked him with finding out your true identity. Didn’t have any idea it was the woman sleeping in my bed, but I should have put it together. You were practically putting the info on a gold platter for me. He found you, Saige. You slipped up somewhere, baby. There’s a shit ton of hits for your death out, and that was as of this morning. Now that news has probably traveled that you killed Pestilence?”
“It’s only a matter of time before they find out who I am, too.”
“Correct,” I tell her as I inch closer to her body, the cool metal of the cuffs in my palm. “Which is why you’re coming back to the clubhouse.” I dangle the cuffs between us, swinging them lightly. “Either willingly or by force. But I’m not gambling with your life.”
Chapter Seventeen
SAIGE
“Which is why you’re coming back to the clubhouse. Either willingly or by force. But I’m not gambling with your life.”
Camden stands in front of me in a pair of worn-in denim jeans, his typical boots, a short-sleeved black T-shirt that shows off his muscular, tattooed arms, and his leather cut. His hair is pulled back in a bun, his neck thick and veiny. He looks better than he did in my dreams.
I knew it was only a matter of time before he came for me, but I didn’t expect it to be because of this. Had I really slipped up somewhere along the way? If Camden’s guy was able to find me, others will, too, especially the ones with major money in their pockets. Jesus Christ, god forbid a girl kill some lowlife criminals and make the world a better place without the rest of them coming for her.
Then a thought hits me hard. Shit.
“Sebastian. Can I be tied to him? He feeds me the information. He’s a victims’ rights attorney.”
“So, when cases don’t go his way, he just pawns them off to you?” he asks without a hint of judgment.
