Page 17 of Savage Heart

“You see, your colleague Dr. Pace and I are…business partners. We met during a conference in Baltimore three years ago, and we realized we had…similar interests. He and I decided to go into business together.”

Oh, Lyle, what the fuck did you do!

“And my business is very important to me, Dr. Simpson, which is why I am troubled by the fact that Dr. Pace seems to have gone missing.” Liz didn’t miss the way Danil Oblek’s eyes seemed to watch her, like he wanted to see every emotion, then devour them whole. He was a predator, through and through, and she and Erika were trapped in her house with him.

Wait—

Missing? Lyle was missing? The earth seemed to shift beneath her feet. What the hell did that mean for her? Shehadn’t seen him in a few days, but that wasn’t uncommon. They worked two different sides of the same practice, and they never communicated personally, not after they’d broken up three years ago.

“If you’re looking for him, I don’t know where he is.”

“That is unfortunate, Dr. Simpson…Liz, because Dr. Pace is in possession of something that belongs to me, and I would like to get it back.”

“What does he have?”

“Five million dollars.”

She gasped.

“I-I have nothing to do with that, I swear.” Liz could barely drag air into her constricted lungs. What the hell did Lyle do? Why would he steal five million dollars from the goddamn Russian mob?

“Once again, that is unfortunate. However, I believe you can be of some help to me,Liz.”

“H-how? I don’t know where he is, I know nothing about your money!”

“You will carry a message for me.”

“A message?”

The sneer on his face and the flick of his gaze to a place just over her shoulder was her only warning before a blast of pain radiated from her kidneys. She grunted in pain, twisting to move away from the second swing from a massive fist. But she wasn’t quick enough. The second blow hit her cheek. The force of the hit sending her to the floor. The third her nose. She stopped counting at ten. She stopped thinking at fifteen, but those final thoughts were flooded with terror for her baby girl.

Trouble threw back the last of his Wild Turkey bourbon, and slammed the empty glass on the scuffed, scratched, yet polished to a gleaming shine bar top of the Savage Raiders MC clubhouse.

Amelia, the top bitch of the clubwhores, and his usual choice of fuck, rubbed her large, fake tits on his arm, begging for a repeat of that morning when he’d woken up hungover, angry, and found himself in need of a rage fuck. She’d been more than willing to follow him back to his room, bend over the bed, and take his cock like a good little fuck toy taking on her master’s temporary mania.

But tonight, he couldn’t stomach the thought of sticking his dick in her again. Just the feeling of her body against his made his skin crawl and his stomach twist.

What. The. Fuck?

Not that he needed to question why he wasn’tupto taking Amelia back to his room; images ofanother womanwere filling his head, overflowing into his body, wrecking him. Like they always did when he got too close to her. When he looked too long at her. When he took that long, lonely trip down Memory Laneto when she was his. And he was hers. Back before things went to shit.

But he only had himself to blame. It didn’t matter that what he’d done, he’d done for her—not that he’d ever tell her that. Not that she needed to know he broke her…broke himself…brokethemso that she would have a life she deserved. A life he couldn’t give to her—not ten years ago, anyway.

And God…did she hate him. He wasn’t fooled by the indifference in her gaze, the way her body got tight whenever he was near, not how she spoke like a fucking medical robot whenever he was in the room. He knew there was still that…chemistry between them. A combustion that he’d never felt with anyone else. But he couldn’t go there, not with the good doc. She was off-limits.

Yeah, but you wanna touch her. Wanna see her light up under your hands…just like she always used to.

Fuck!

He scrubbed his hand down his face and groaned.

That morning had been a goddamn shitshow—like someone had thrown a hand grenade into a chicken coop. Mess every-goddamn-fucking-where.

Since Odin, in his infinite wisdom and dark humor, hired Liz to be the club doctor, Trouble had been living on the edge of fucked up. Tense as shit all day, waiting for her to walk through the clubhouse doors to tend to the brothers, or to spend time with the old ladies—who all seemed to love the shit out of her. It wasn’t hard to love a woman like Liz. He knew that deep down in his black fucking soul.

That morning, he’d been so focused on getting the pain meds and getting back to Amelia to get her out of his bed, out of his room, that he hadn’t noticed that the med room door was already open. Usually, the door was shut, per Doc Liz’s orders, but that morning was open, and Liz was inside.

He’d been surprised to see her there; she’d been drunk as hell the night before, when the old ladies threw the club queen a baby shower. At first, he’d been worried about Liz getting home safely, but Skathi had calmed him down when she said Liz had an Uber waiting at the gates. After the party the night before, he assumed Liz would take the day off to nurse her hangover, but no, not his Liz, who never once took a day off all those months they’d been together. Liz was a one-of-a-kind woman; hardworking, strong, determined, loyal…and hot as fuck.

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