Page 48 of Savage Heart

Trouble snickered, picturing Hawk, the fuck, squeezing his big ass into the tiny car.

“I can hear you laughing, asshole. That’s the last time I do you a favor,” Hawk grumbled, and Fae giggled. Trouble’s smile faltered. Hawk and Fae didn’t have such a great beginning, not with the way Hawk fucked it up by basically dry humping Fae’s stepsister, favoring the pretty but bitchy blonde over Fae. Eventually, though, Hawk pulled his head out of his ass—after Fae was kidnapped by a stalker—and got his girl. There was some groveling involved, and some ass kissing, but Hawktriumphed, won Fae, and now they were the perfect fucking couple.

Fuck, he wanted that with Liz.

You had that, motherfucker, then you shit all over it.

Gritting his teeth, he told Hawk to take the girl’s stuff to his place, then hung up. He needed to get back to the hospital.

Starting his bike, Trouble didn’t fail to notice the black sedan idling across the street, two men inside.

Shit.

Those Russians sure were bold fuckers. Broad daylight, out in the open, not even trying to hide the fact that they were watching him, following him.

Dammit, he couldn’t go to the hospital yet, not if those goons were going to follow him there. Chances were, though, Oblek already knew Liz was there, and he had eyes on the place. Probably even someone inside feeding them information. Which meant that Oblek had to know that Liz was under Savage Raiders’ protection, and she was going into lockdown once she was discharged.

Trouble heaved a sigh, lifting his chin to the bastards in the sedan, before pulling out of the parking lot and onto the street. He would lose the Russians on side roads, then head to the hospital to put eyes on Liz. He couldn’t wait until she was out of that room, where any fuck could get to her. Sure, there was always a brother on the floor, watching for trouble, but if Oblek had a nurse or doctor in his pocket, a brother wouldn’t know to stop them from going into the room to hurt the supremely vulnerable Liz. Thank fucking Christ he’d gone all out with security on his place, and he’d have brothers taking shifts when he was gone, making sure his girls were safe at all times.

Things were complicated as hell, but he’d do whatever it took to keep his woman and their daughter safe, and once the Russians were dealt with, he’d lay siege to Liz’s heart, going allout to win back the woman he loved—because he was a Savage Raider, a savage man with a savage heart, and it belonged to Skizzy.

Liz spent all the previous day and into the night waiting for Trouble to return. But he didn’t. Typical. After his posturing and arguing the day before, Liz had expected him to return to the hospital and camp out in her room, not letting her breathe without him there.

But Liz could admit that she was both glad anddisappointedthat he hadn’t come back. She hated that she…well, she wanted to see him. She wanted to hear his voice. She wanted to just…be in the same room as him without feeling like she had to put on that façade of untouched, unaffected, unmoved. It was hard fucking work, acting like seeing him didn’t bother her, didn’t hurt her, didn’t make her wish things were different.

Different how?that voice that always seemed to play devil’s advocate asked.

There was the big part of her that was still angry, still anguishing over his betrayal. That part of her wanted to see him suffer, wanted to keep their daughter away from him, wanted him to know what it felt like to lose something he loved. But there was also that small part of her…the part of her buriedunder piles of rubble on which her walls of protection were built. That part of her missed him, missed being wrapped in his warm, powerful arms. Missed his soft kisses, his passionate kisses, the kisses that would make her panties wet and her body sing. She missed the late nights snuggled together in their bed, talking, laughing, touching one another with intimate knowledge and soul-deep adoration. Liz missedErik Skaarsen,the man, not Trouble, the Savage Raider VP…butTroublewas still there. He wasn’t the man she’d met and fell in love with at that bar over ten years ago—Trouble was the man at Tipped, fucking Bonnie in the back office, talking shit about Liz, knowing Liz could hear. Trouble was the asshole club VP who loved flaunting his floozies in her face whenever she came around. Trouble was the man who chased her away and missed nearly ten years of his daughter’s life because he didn’t know how to ask a simple question; “What are your plans about Stanford?”

Thatwas the man she hated—and now he was forcing his way into her life like a bulldozer.

And she had to let him in; she had no choice if she wanted to keep Erika safe.

She hoped she didn’t regret it once all the shit with the Bratva was over.

After a short video chat with Erika, during which she had to fight back tears of joy at seeing her little girl, and sobs of pain at missing her so much, Liz had felt…listless. Out of place. Outside of her own life, just waiting for Trouble to get back so that she could start moving forward again—because the fucker had convinced her to stay with him. How? Well, he and Tessa—the tag team from hell—had been brutally and scarily honest about the danger she and Erika were in from the Russians. And…there really wasn’t anywhere else for them to stay that the Russians couldn’t just violate again. At Trouble’s place, she and Erika would be safe, they could be comfortable, and…well, Erika couldget to know her father. And that was just about as terrifying as all hell.

Erika was the best thing Liz ever did; having that little girl had been the highlight of her life, and waking up every day with Erika as her purpose had gotten her through some pretty shitty days. Being a single parent was the hardest thing any person could go through, but the reward was more than enough. It was everything to see Erika’s smile, to hear her laugh, to see her learning and growing and thriving, and know she was instrumental in Erika’s happiness. Liz would live, die, and kill for her little girl.

And you don’t think Trouble will?

Well, wasn’t that the fucking question of the hour.

Now that she knew that Trouble had set her up to overhear what he and that bitch Bonnie were doing in that office, Liz couldn’t stop the white out blizzard of questions overwhelming her mind.

Had Trouble really meant what he’d said about having kids?

Had he really meant what he said about me just being an easy fuck?

What was the asshole thinking, cheating on me just to get me to leave town?

What a bunch of absolute bullshit! He couldn’t just sit down with her and talk to her about her taking that scholarship to Stanford? If he had, he’d have known she couldn’t afford attending there evenwiththe scholarship. He would have known Liz was pregnant. He would have been a part of Erika’s life from the jump—but he wasn’t, because he had the mentality of a fucking ten-year-old who never thought for a fucking second that maybe he should do the grown-up thing and have a goddamn conversation with someone.

Instead of stepping up and doing the right thing, the mature thing, he’d been a coward, taking the coward’s way out, and leaving her to raise their daughter on her own.

But was that really a bad thing? Knowing how Trouble lived, and how the Savage Raiders did their thing, was keeping Erika out of that lifestyle really a bad thing?

Her cell dinged from the table beside the bed. Now that she was mobile, thanks to the sling on her arm, Liz rose from the chair by the window and slowly made her way to the table. Grabbing her phone, she saw she had a text.

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