Page 43 of Savage Guardian

And his Aoibheal.

The idiots had yet to find the cameras he’d hidden in the studio. He hadn’t had the chance to put any in the hotel room, but he would. And once he had his eyes on Fae in all her quiet, private moments, he’d make his next move. But first, he had to make sure all the pieces were in place. He couldn’t forget a single detail, because getting to his Fae would now prove difficult. Hawk was in the way, but he was easily dealt with, since he had a hard on for the fucking sister. Who would want a piece of trash when they could have treasure? Carrie was used up, vain, ignorant. Fae was purity, innocent, cleverness, and goodness—and his.

Once he finally got her where he wanted her, all her goodness and innocence would be his.

He would wrap himself up in her purity…and taint it. Filthy her up. Turn her into the perfect little fuck doll. And she would sing for him, naked, used, covered in his cum and bite marks. The perversion of a white queen, safe and cherished in his keeping.

Signaling for the waitress to get his bill, he thought about his next steps.

Get into her hotel room. Plant the cameras. Timing. It all had to go perfectly.

Most importantly, he needed to keep the flying monkey’s focus on Carrie. The imposter. With all their attention on protecting Carrie, Fae would be vulnerable.

He didn’t even bother trying to cover the maniacal grin that split his face.

My Darling Aoibheal,

How I have missed you, not that you’ve done all that good a job of hiding from me. I can see you. I can feel you. So close. It won’t be long now before we meet. Will I be there at your concert? Will I be waiting for you around the next corner? Does it matter where I am hiding when I know you are hiding, too? This man, the one who poisoned so many against you, he won’t be at your concert. He won’t be waiting around the corner for you, ready to spew his hate and filthy lies. You are light. You are goodness and purity. You are Aoibheal. Fae Queen. My treasure. My everything. And once we meet, face to face, you will me mine.

All my love and longing,

Your Bean Sidhe

Hawk grit his teeth and cursed, staring down at the words on the thin sheet of paper. Words he’d memorized. The inked words coated in sticky blood…a macabre throne on which ugly, terrifying words sat with pride. It was the handwritten letter than had been left in the box, beneath the severed head. A disgusting, hideous, bloody gift for Aoibheal.

HisAoibheal? God, he had no idea how to answer that. Was is true in the beginning, before he’d actually met Carrie? Yes. Now that he knew her, had met her and spent time with her? No. He was man enough to admit that now. Carrie was not who he thought she would be. Yes, it was a disappointment—atremendousdisappointment. But he was more than willing to take her at face value, especially since Grimm and Odin didn’t care whether Hawk was into Carrie. She was a client. Full stop. His job was to make sure she was safe and secure while in Las Vegas. Her sister, however…. His growing obsession with the plump firebrand was also a growing problem. While she wasn’t a direct client of Savage Protection, she was still in need of protection. His protection. Because he’d be damned if anyone else would get close enough to Fae to make sure she was always safe.

You’re out of your goddamn mind.

Yup. And he wouldn’t apologize for it, either.

When he’d first told Grimm he’d be offering his room at the clubhouse to Fae, the big bastard threw his head back and laughed. After a few minutes of all eyes in the clubhouse barroom staring at him, Grimm finally pulled him to the end of the bar and said, “You offerin’ the same deal to the client?”

When Hawk took a moment to answer—having not even thought to offer Carrie the same protection—Grimm grinned his ugly grin, laughed some more, then told him Odin was going to have his ass…but Skathi and Tessa would love to meet “the lass.”

So, currently, Fae was in the officers’ wing, probably still sleeping. After their night of frantic, passionate fucking, it wouldn’t be a surprise if she stayed asleep until noon, especially after the day she’d had yesterday. It was just going on six. The sun was barely awake, but the clubhouse was alive and kicking.

Detective Benson had shown up that morning, at the clubhouse early, to hand deliver the letter. Plain, lined college-ruled paper, with blue ink. Of course, it was inside a plastic evidence bag, but Hawk didn’t need to physically touch it to feel the menace. The insidious evil cloaked in obsessive, heartfelt verbiage.

You are obsessed too, asshole.Yes, he could easily admit he was obsessed with Aoibheal. Until Aoibheal was revealed as Carrie James, a woman he wouldn’t look at twice…at least after he’d fucked her the first time. And since he had no desire to fuck her at all, his personal obsession with her had fallen to the wayside, like a seed that had nowhere to grow, blown away by fierce winds.

Hawk read his copy of the letter for the fifth time, hating that he couldn’t see any clues pointing to who the sender was. The freak cut off a man’s head, wrapped it up like a fucking package of priceless china plates, and put it right on the doorstep of Aoibheal’s Las Vegas recording studio.

The fucker was playing games. Putrid, twisted games. Games he wanted Carrie, Fae, and Hawk to play—ifhe was the one who’d tried to breech SP and the Raider’s servers. Hawk believed he was, though, because it was too much of a coincidence that the asshole would leave a head where he knew Carrie and Fae would be, knowing Hawk would be called. Hawk was both the Savage Protection contact and an MC member. Yeah, coincidence as fuck.

WhoeverBean Sidhe—Banshee—was, he was targeting Aoibheal and anyone close to her, which meant Fae, Hawk, and anyone touching the SP brand. Namely, the Savage Raiders and those in their employ. But that was too wide a net to cast, which meant the asshole was focusing on anyone in close contact with Carrie and Fae. Him. Hawk. Who wasn’t making a secret of having an obsession for Aoibheal…or a connection with Fae. And if he’d been concerned about keeping things distant between him and the women, it was all shot to shit now. Now that he’d had Fae in his bed, knew what she tasted like, what she sounded like when she came. What it felt like for her to fall asleep sprawled over him, naked body to sweaty naked body.

Was Banshee angry at Hawk for what he perceived was a wrong against him for spending time with one or both women? More than likely, whoever Banshee was, he was targeting Aoibheal, and Fae was just an acceptable casualty in his war to gain Aoibheal’s attention.

Fuck that. Fae would never be a casualty, which was why she was tucked safely in his bed in his room in the Savage Raiders’ clubhouse, where no one would fucking get to her.

Odin stomped his way into the common room, pinned Hawk and Grimm with his icy-eyed stare, and barked, “Church.”

Gathered around the officers’ table, Hawk, Grimm, Odin, Trouble, Fang, AFK, and Hell Hound looked the worse for wear. Apparently, none of them had gotten that much sleep the night before.

“Alright, assholes, there’s been a development in the shit going down with SP, Aoibheal, and our brother, Hawk.”

AFK slid his laptop onto the surface of the table and began click-clacking away.

---