Page 38 of Savage Heart

“Don’t you fucking touch me! I hate you, you piece of shit! You broke me! Instead of breaking up with me like a normal person, you thought you’d twist the knife just for kicks. You are such a fucking coward that instead of telling me you didn’t want me anymore, you set me up, thinking I’d just ride off into the California sunset and never come back. There, done, no more fat, ugly, clingy girlfriend. You—”God…this hurts…so much.“—you hated me so much….” Tears burned that backs of her eyes, then burst forth, spilling down her cheeks. “And-and you wander why I never told you about Erika? That’s why, you asshole! What you did and said in that bar. You didn’t just get rid of your unwanted girlfriend, you also got rid of your unwanted kid, too!”

Trouble let out an inhuman sound and grabbed her shoulders, gripping her tightly.

“No, shit…Liz, it wasn’t like that,” he declared. “You have to listen to me. Let me explain.” She tried to twist out of his hold, his touch on her skin like spiders biting. “Stop doing that; you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Get your hands off me!” she yelled, and let out a sob of relief when two nurses burst through the door.

“Sir! We’re going to have to ask that you leave immediately,” the older nurse, Janine, demanded.

Trouble’s grip on her tightened for a moment, before he dropped his hands with a grunt. He took a step back away from the bed, the whole time never dropping his gaze from her face.

Liz, overwhelmed with a torrent of emotions, began trembling, which didn’t help her pain.

“Please, make him leave. I don’t want him here,” she pleaded with the nurses, who pursed their lips and nodded. The younger nurse, Shanna, hurried from the room, probably to fetch security, while Janine stepped between Liz and Trouble. One of the many things Liz loved about nurses was their dedication to protecting and caring for their patients—but this woman was taking that a step further; placing herself between her patient and a pissed off biker.

“Sir, again, I ask that you leave immediately.”

Trouble cursed beneath his breath, his eyes filled with anger tempered with—no…it couldn’t be guilt she was seeing in those eyes. The eyes of a man who’d betrayed her and tore out her heart, and then spent the last two years shoving other women in her face.

Janine crossed her arms.

Raising his hands in a show of surrender, Trouble snatched his cell off his chair, pinned Liz with his gaze once more, then stalked from the room, leaving behind a hurt so profound, Liz couldn’t catch her breath.

Cutting the engine to his Super Glide, Trouble dismounted and stormed through the doors of the clubhouse, enraged—at Liz for not letting him explain, and at himself for hurting her. Again.

If she’d just let me talk to her….Realistically, though, she was right in kicking his ass out of her hospital room. She was hurting—emotionally and physically, and she needed time to…heal.

But not too long.

He grit his teeth, the force of the clenching driving pain through his skull. But that was what he deserved—the pain andthe guilt. The self-hateandLiz’s hate. He’d earned that. He’d earned every tear she’d shed, every angry, agonized word she’d spoken—like a bullet to the chest.

He let it bleed. Because, in that moment, watching realization dawn on her beautiful face, in her gorgeous eyes…it had taken the last bit of soul he had left and set it on fire. She was right, hewasa motherfucking piece of shit.

You destroy everything you touch, boy,his father’s voice beat against his brain.

“Yo!” Hawk called from the bar area, raising a beer in greeting. “Why do you look like someone put sugar in your gas tank?”

Trouble, in need of something to punch but not wanting to start a fucking brawl in the clubhouse common room, flipped Hawk the bird, ignored the gasp from Hawk’s woman Fae, and headed toward his suite on the second floor, away from prying, curious eyes…and people wanting to know how Liz was doing.

He’d deal with all that shit later, but right now he just needed a goddamn minute to think.

Slamming through his suite door, he was glad to see it empty. More and more lately, Amelia had begun to make herself at home in his room whenever the fuck she wanted, as if she had the right to be there. Since he’d liked having easy access to her pussy, he hadn’t minded so much. But over the last several weeks, with her not so subtle hints about wanting his kutte, the luster of having pussy on tap was starting to dull.

Fuck that, the appeal of easy pussy died a long time ago, but he was a single man, an MC VP, pussy and Patrón were his daily diet. What would become of him if he didn’t do what was expected of him—and the release never hurt. But day in and day out, the emptiness he felt after emptying his balls never went away. Even with Amelia.

I should start locking my door,he thought as he kicked it shut behind him, and threw the lock.He trusted his brothers with his life, so locking the door to his suite had never crossed his mind. Now, however, he knew it was a necessity.

Things had to change. Quick. Because his life had changed irrevocably…and for the better.

If things worked out the way he hoped they would.

Though he was well aware of the double standard, he’d be fucked if he’d let some clubwhore hang around his suite with his daughter there. And shewould bethere with him; he’d fucking move heaven and earth to make that happen. He’d already lost nearly ten years with her, and he couldn’t stand not being with her, even now. Yeah, he knew she needed time to come to terms with what happened to her mother before he revealed he was her father, but there was also the heart pounding urgency to go to her, pull her into his arms, draw the scent of her into his body, and never let her go. But first, he needed to make sure she was comfortable around him. So that meant he needed to make sure his space was safe and comfortable for her—so no more Amelia, or any clubwhore, just walking in. Definitely no more hook ups in the suite when she was around. Even a degenerate dog like him knew that was inappropriate for his nine-year-old daughter.

He halted mid-stride, his thoughts colliding like a star into a black hole, compressing together into one, singular thought. One he’d never imagined possible.

Hisdaughter….

Erika.

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