Page 29 of Savage Guardian

A wave of tension snuffed the sound in the room, and Hawk turned to look down the table at his president, who looked all sorts of fucking mad. A giant of a man, Odin was intimating when he was happy, but when he was mad, he could tear a man’s arms off and beat him to death with them.

“Hawk…you better tell me that Grimm is talking out of his ass, and that you aren’t fucking our business clients in our clubhouse like they were cheap club bitch pussy.”

Fuck. This was exactly why he shouldn’t have brought Fae here. It wasn’t bad enough that she was the sister to his obsession and client, but then he had to go and kiss her, probably giving her false hopes for more?

And you don’twantmore?Fuck no, he didn’t. Fae was trouble, and he was quickly realizing that his unhealthy attraction to the before-unknown Aoibheal had been a critical mistake, one he was paying for in spades. But he couldn’t justnotlove her…or her music. It was just too bad that the woman he met and the one he’d been hoping for felt like they were two different people. The more questions he asked Carrie, the more suspicious he became that she wasn’t who she claimed to be. But why would she claim to be Aoibheal if she wasn’t?

“It was a mistake, Odin,” Hawk proclaimed, ignoring the twisting bile in his gut at his words.

“If Hawk doesn’t want her, I wouldn’t mind takin’ her for a spin.” Grimm’s shitty face broke into a grin, devilry in his eyes. “That woman is a fine piece of ass, curvy and feisty, and I bet she’s a screamer.”

“The fuck you will!” Hawk blasted, shooting to his feet and leaning on his fists on the table. “She’s an SP client, you asswipe.”

Grimm snickered, lifting a finger, and wiggling it in a “uh uh” motion. “Hersisteris the client, which makes Fae fair game.”

“The fuck it does. You will not lay a single finger on that woman, or I’ll break it. I’ll breakallof them, then I’ll laugh over your body as you curl up in a ball like a little bitch and cry.”

That wiped the smile off Grimm’s face, turning his smirk into a thin line of malice.

Before Grimm could do what his eyes were telegraphing—namely choking Hawk the fuck out—Odin slammed the gavel against the table, making everyone jerk and look in his direction.

“Sit the fuck down, Hawk, and shut up. Grimm, stop pressing his buttons. The last thing we need is a moody as fuck Sergeant-at-Arms. And Hawk, I don’t care who this woman is to you, so long as it doesn’t blow back on the club or SP. If you can’t keep things separate, keep your dick in your pants.”

Hawk was shaking his head before Odin was finished speaking. “It’s not like that, Prez. That kiss was a mistake. It won’t happen again. A momentary lapse of judgement in the heat of the moment, and I am going to make sure I focus on the client—period—from now on.”

No more Fae. Only Carrie. Shit. It would be difficult, but it could be done, especially since Fae spent most of the hours he was with Carrie away from the suite, doing whatever it was assistants did.

No more Fae….It was for the best. Right? So why did it feel like an acid-dipped poker was lodged in his belly?

In silence, Odin stared at him, an assessing sharpness in his arctic blue gaze.

Finally, he nodded. “Fine. Anyone else got shit to talk about before we wrap this up so I can get home to my woman?”

No one said a fucking word.

“Church dismissed.”

Hawk slowly rose to his feet. He made it all the way from the upstairs conference room to the downstairs bar without conscious thought. One minute he was at the table, his mind spinning all the things he’d just said and heard—the information on the data breech, the interest in info on him—and the next minute, Preston was there asking him what he wanted to drink.

Hawk asked for the bottle. Then spent the rest of the night attempting to drown out the fact that he’d have to cut ties with Fae…even though all he wanted to do was wrap himself up in her.

“Where were you last night?” Carrie, draped in a nightgown that might as well have been made of tissue paper and desperation, plopped herself down in the chair across from Fae at the small dining table near the suite kitchenette. Yes, there was a kitchen, complete with a four-burner stone, full refrigerator, and food storage space. Did her sister cook anything in that kitchenette with the purpose of saving some money bynotspending it on pricey room service? No. Of course not. Carrie didn’t want to waste her energy doing such plebeian tasks as feeding herself moderately priced, homemade meals. Not when she could suck out every last dollar of her step-sister’s advance payment for an album her already overworked, nearly burned out sister hadn’t even completed yet.

But Fae couldn’t say a thing about it, because it wouldn’t make a difference. Carrie would do whatever the hell Carrie wanted. Damn whoever told her otherwise. And that sleazy jerk Jimmy was no help, either. It was like both of them were working together to completely exterminate every last ounce of joy Fae had once had in her life. First it was Carrie’s love of all things Carrie, and her disdain for all things Fae—including Fae’s goal to go to music school in NYC. Once Carrie learned that Fae’s father had set aside some money to pay tuition, she’d had a fit, demanding that she get a fair share to go to a college she wanted to go to. With pressure from Carrie and his new wife, her father had given in, splitting the money 50/50, leaving Fae in the lurch, looking for a way to pay tuition for a school that didn’t take half payments. Did Carrie use that money she argued for on college? No. She’d blown it all on a two-week trip to Cabo.

Fae didn’t go to college, but at least Carrie got a fabulous tan. However, with the money she should have spent on college, Fae could buy the recording equipment and software to start her career as Aoibheal. No, she hadn’t gone to school for music as her mother had wanted her to before she’d passed, but shehadbuilt a brand that people loved and enjoyed, one that she was proud of.

Hadbeen proud of. She wasn’t so sure how she felt about it now. Her dream, the Aoibheal she’d dreamt up, the Aoibheal she’d birthed from her own hopes, hard work, determination, and long nights of mixing and cutting and editing, now felt like someone else’s dream.

Carrie and Jimmy’s dream. Fae was just the mule that carried the both of them.

“I was out,” Fae answered, not even bothering to look up from the mug of steaming coffee she was stirring, watching the French Vanilla creamer mix in with the black nectar of the gods.

Carrie huffed, as per usual, annoyed that someone wasn’t focused utterly and completely on her. Coffee was much more interesting.

“Yeah, but where did you go? What did you do?” Carrie prodded, something in her tone telling Fae that her sister was digging for something specific. Why was her step-sister so interested in what Fae was doing? It wasn’t like her to give a shit, as long as it didn’t interfere with Carrie’s plans.

Knowing her peaceful morning—and her hopes of getting to the studio while still in the mood to write, was already ruined, she raised her head and met her sister’s narrow-eyed gaze. “I was at the Savage Raiders’ clubhouse,” Fae admitted, knowing a barrage of questions were incoming.

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