Page 37 of Savage Guardian

“Yeah,” Grimm said, nodding once, then slapping Hawk on the shoulder. Hard. “Don’t fuck it up, arsehole, or you’ll be answering to Odin. Go get your woman and see what the fuckwad Benson has to share.”

Hawk didn’t hesitate—not even bothering to correct Grimm’s words about Fae being his woman, instead focusing on getting to Fae, pushing through the crowds to the barricade. The pig there gave him a single glance before waving him through. More than likely, Benson had warned patrol he was coming and to let him through with no fuss. Because fuss with the Raiders was rivers of blood and motor oil.

Madden was standing outside the door to the right, his eyes peeled to the crowd, his back to the building. If he was there, that meant Carrie was there, but he couldn’t seem to make himself care. Madden should have kept her away from the scene, but knowing Carrie, she probably made his life hell until she got her way, which was right in the middle of the mess.

In several long strides, he was inside the studio. And there she was—Fae, just to the inside of the door, head bent close to some skinny asshole with a weak ass ponytail and pasty skin.

Striding up behind her, Hawk couldn’t stop himself from curling his hand around her neck and pulling her back into his chest.

She stiffened but seemed to realize it was him because she melted into him, her soft curves turning into creamy butter against his hard frame.

“You alright?”

Fae nodded jerkily, her eyes wide, her face pale as paper. The urge to wrap her in his arms, hold her against his chest, and match her heartbeat to heartbeat—just to know she was safe…alive—was strong.

“I-I’m good now,” she said, her mouth curving into a slight, relieved smile. Her shoulders, which had been tense when he’d first seen her, were now loose, leaning into him. She was leaning into his strength, his protection.

Fuck, that felt good. Someone depending on him, leaning on him, choosing him to be their shield…. Their savior. He hadn’t felt such a deep yearning for that sensation since….

Shaking off the thought ofher—that bitch—he leaned down and pressed his forehead against Fae’s, letting recriminations, second thoughts, and professionalism take a back seat. He just needed to feel her close. She closed her eyes as a slight, breathy sigh escaped her lips.

Comfort.

Wholeness.

Rightness.

Nothing had felt this good in too many years. But it couldn’t last. Nothing good and right ever did.

Standing to his full height, his gaze drifted over the man who was speaking with Fae when Hawk entered the room. The man was just taller than Fae, skinny, pasty, with thinning red hair, wearing jeans, a faded t-shirt, and motorcycle boots. And he was glowering at Hawk like Hawk had stolen his puppy and flayed it alive.

Not even bothering to acknowledge the man—who Hawk knew to be the recording studio engineer Teddy—Hawk took a step back from Fae, immediately regretting it. She was warmth…and needful. She needed him in that moment when terror had brandished weapons against her, and he was there to wield her shield for her. To guard her with his life. With his body.

A body that fucking ached for hers.

He needed to get her out of there, to sit down with her and make sure she was safe and okay. That meant not at the hotel where whoever breeched their security knew where she was.

He’d take her to the clubhouse, where he could monitor her. And when he wasn’t there, the twelve-foot fence topped with barbed wire, and his loyal, kickass MC brothers would keep her safe.

OnlyIcan keep her safe.And why did that thought make his cock hard?

“Come on, I’m taking you home.” He’d call Benson later for a meet. After all the club had done for Benson, the man owed him a little leeway.

Suddenly, Carrie was there, all arms and lithe legs and overly flowery perfume.

“What about me?” Carrie spluttered, moving to stand right between him and Fae. “Shouldn’t you be worried about me?”

Hawk grunted and pointed his chin at the door. “Madden’s outside. He’ll take you and Jimmy back to the hotel.”

Cue the pout that probably usually got Carrie what Carrie wanted. He could admit that it did wonders for her plump lips, which were painted a deep red. It did nothing for him, however. Hawk pursed his lips at her and moved to go around her, his hand reaching out to gently grasp Fae’s arm.

Undaunted, Carrie grabbed Hawk’s bicep, making him halt in place. “Where are you taking Fae?” Why did she need to know?

Hawk didn’t bother answering. Instead, he placed a hand against the small of Fae’s back and led her out the door and toward his bike.

“Hawk,” Fae’s plaintive voice intruded on Hawk’s instinctual drive to get her the hell out of there and away from what would harm her.

“We’ll talk at the clubhouse, I promise,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her head and inhaling deeply. Vanilla, heather…and home.

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