Page 4 of Savage Guardian

That name.

That woman.

That mystery that still haunted him every single fucking night. After hearing her voice that first time over a year and a half ago, he’d spent months trying to find her. Scouring online only got him so far, but he’d bought every song on Apple music and bookmarked the shit out of her YouTube videos. Sadly, she never spoke, showed her face, or shared any searchable information about herself. The videos always consisted of her music playing over a slowly shifting cache of images of the Scottish Highlands. Misty moors, rolling green hills swathed in bright kisses of heather, lowing highland cows covered in their shaggy coats.

Her singing voice, her lyrics, and the images all called to the barbarian clan warrior within his blood, soothing him…making him yearn for an ancient home too long gone.

Suddenly, the thought of taking Amelia back to the bar office and fucking her over Thor’s desk made his stomach churn.

What did Odin know about Aoibheal?

“What about her?” he asked, his tone clipped.

Odin seemed to hesitate, almost as if he was weighing whether or not he should continue.

“Her manager called. She’s coming to Vegas in a few months for a small, intimate reveal show, and she wants Savage Protection to provide security.”

Hawk choked, lights dancing behind his eyes. His pulse pounded in his ears so loudly, he barely caught what Odin said next.

“You interested?”

Was heinterested? In meeting and protecting the one woman who had stolen the very soul from his body? The woman who had him questioning everything about himself, his genuine desires, and his fucking sanity?

No goddamn question.

Gritting his teeth, he growled, “If you offer this assignment to anyone fucking else, I will put a bullet in his head, brother or no.”

There was a beat of stunned silence before Odin replied. “I’ll text you the details once everything is ironed out on her end. Don’t do anything fucking stupid, like fuck her. At least wait until she’s no longer our client, then you can fuck her, breed her, and spend all your twilight years singing Gaelic-Norse songs to your kids.”

Rolling his eyes at the man’s sardonic response, Hawk couldn’t fight the grin that spread across his face. He was in the middle of a packed bar, sitting across from a now scowling club bitch, and physically wrung out—but nothing else mattered to him in that moment.

Sucking in a breath to steady his nerves, he chuckled, then said, “Thank you, Prez. You…you don’t know what you just gave me.”

Silence followed his words, the moment laden with meaning neither of them wanted to voice. Instead, Odin admitted, “I think I do, brother.”

Odin ended the call, but Hawk pulled the phone from his ear and stared down at the darkening screen.

What the hell just happened? Had he really just been handed his dreams on a platter? No. It couldn’t be that easy. Life was never that fucking easy—especially not for him.

Either Aoibheal was a different Aoibheal and not the one he yearned for, or….

He silently shook his head, tucking his cell into the back pocket of his jeans.

Across from him, Amelia, who’d he forgotten was even there, huffed.

“Club business?” she asked, her mud colored eyes boring into his. “Seems tense. I can help you with that.” Something predatory flashed in her gaze, and Hawk immediately went on alert.

Like all club bitches, she understood her place, that she was just club pussy and nothing more. They all knew that club business was strictly that—for brothers of the club only. However, that didn’t stop them from wanting to know more, from wanting to sink their claws into a brother and gain a place of permanence and power within the club. They all thought that playing dumb and opening their legs would get them an in-road where other club women had never been before. No matter how many times they were told otherwise, too many of them thought they could fuck their way into an old lady spot.

They were wrong. The only club bitch that every made old lady status in the Raiders was Bonnie. She’d fucked around with most of the brothers but, when she realized she was becoming last week’s pussy, she got pregnant on purpose, forcing his club brother Tosser to claim her as his old lady and marry her.

Tosser died not long after that, but Bonnie was still there, except now she was running the club bordello, Sex & Candy. So maybe Amelia and all the other women weren’t all that wrong in assuming they could get old lady status. But it would never be with Hawk. He double-wrapped his shit—only using condoms from his own stash. He’d be goddamned if some bitch got pregnant with his kid and used it to manipulate him. Only the club officers knew about his past, his family, but if any of the club women found out, they’d see him as a pay day on steroids.

Amelia, like all the club bitches before her, was playing a game he didn’t appreciate.

He shoved his chair back and glared at her.

“Yeah, club business,” he replied. It was actually Savage Protection business, but that was still need to know, and Amelia didn’t need to know shit.

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