Page 57 of Filthy Savage

But this is a level that I was absolutely not prepared for. This isn’t some clubwhore down at the clubhouse. This is different. She knows where his cabin is. A cabin that he told me he didn’t bring women back to.

What feels like an hour later but was probably only a few minutes, Gnaw throws the cabin’s front door open and marches inside. I can see Guts behind him, his lips twitching into a smirk.

“What the fuck?” the woman sneers.

Gnaw moves around the kitchen and stands directly in front of her. He crosses his arms over his chest, looking down his nose at her, and narrows his eyes. If looks could kill, this woman would be six feet under immediately.

“I could ask the same thing. What the fuck are you doing here harassing Spencer this way?” he asks.

Oh God. He knows her.

My heart slams against my chest as my gaze flicks between them. I want to laugh and cry simultaneously. I feel like an idiot. This was all bullshit. This was all Dark Horse MC bullshit, and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I fell for him.

“Who are you?” I ask, my voice low.

“I already told you,” she grinds out. “I’m the girl who’s been fucking Brew for a decade. Now why the absolute fuck are you here?”

I can’t hear her say that again. I start to lift my hands to my ears when Gnaw speaks again, and I freeze.

“Bitch. I know who you are. Take your slut ass home. Brew can deal with you when he gets back.”

I’m going to be sick.

I’m going to puke everywhere.

At the thought of her going anywhere and waiting for Brew, tears well in my eyes. I try to blink them away because I will be damned if this woman sees me shed a single one.

She stands, the chair scraping across the hardwood floor, and I shift my gaze to hers. She wears a shit-eating grin and leans forward. I watch as she lifts one of her sharp, painted nails and points it just a few inches from my face.

“You’re not going to cry, are you?” she asks.

“Get the fuck out, bitch,” Gnaw grinds out.

She lets out a cackle that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. She spins around, and then I watch as she swingsher hips from side to side as she walks out of the cabin and down the steps of the front porch.

Gnaw follows her, leaving me alone in the cabin.

Alone and heartbroken.

I don’t move. I can’t. I am completely and totally frozen solid. I physically cannot move. I can’t think, and I can’t breathe. I don’t know what to even think. I stare at the open door. Then I hear tires spin and gravel being kicked and thrown around the driveway.

A few moments later, after some hushed conversation somewhere in the distance, Gnaw and Guts both appear in front of me. It’s Gnaw who sinks down to his haunches and lifts his hand. I feel the backs of his fingers slide down my cheek, and it’s then I realize I am crying.

“I’m so embarrassed,” I whisper.

He chuckles. “Don’t be, not fucking ever, babe. You wanna be with your girls?” he asks, his voice soft and hushed, soothing, like he’s speaking to a spooked animal. Aren’t I just that, though? I mean, humans are animals, and right now, I feel extremely spooked.

“I think,” I whisper. “I think I would like to go home now.”

My words sound robotic. Gnaw flicks his gaze to the side, and I have to assume that Guts is standing there. They share a look, but I don’t care what it is. All I want to do is get out of here, not just this cabin, but all of Pineville.

I will happily live alone in peace and drive the six hours to see my brother in prison. I will live alone the rest of my life, having loved and been burned by this man twice, rather than stay here and be lied to—be made a fool of.

The last thing I want to be is made to look a damn fool or, worse, have other people pity me. And I know that the other old ladies would. There is no way whatsoever that any of thosewomen would look at me and not feel sadness and pity for me if I turned a blind eye to this woman.

Fuck that, and fuck Evan.

I am going home.

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