Page 60 of Outlaws’ Runaway

Savage nods. “You think they went to the laundry? It might make sense. Heather and Paige know it. They know it’s closed and who the fuck goes back to the scene of the crime to hide? So dumb it's fucking genius.”

“Comes from Fabbri's phone, though.” Hellfire frowns. How do you know it's legit and not a trap?

Savage shakes his head. “Kitten. Only Paige would know that I call her that. And why the fuck would he try to actually get our attention? I nicked him with a bullet when he ran. He's wounded, on the run, and he knows that we want Paige back. He has her alive so she can be his hostage. I don't know how Paige got on his phone, but it feels legit. Besides, do you have any better ideas?”

Hellfire shakes his head. “Nope.”

I can't contain the grin that spreads from one ear to the other. “We know where she is. Hopefully, Fabbri doesn't know that we know, but if she doesn’t delete this right away, it’s only a matter of time before he sees the message was sent.”

Savage is already walking towards his bike. “What are you fuckers standing there gabbing about. Fabbri's a dead man walking, and I think it's about time we put a stop to that.”

“I gotta clean up here. Do you need backup?” Hellfire looks at the members and cops milling around, dealing with Fabbri's men or getting medical attention.

Poe shakes his head. “We’ll update you if it looks like more than just one sad old gangster. This is personal. Fabbri doesn't stand a fucking chance, and if he gets off the hook this time, it won't be because we didn't have enough fucking men.” He follows Savage towards the bikes.

I crack my knuckles as I join them. It's payback time.

35

PAIGE

I barely manageto get the chair back in place when the toilet flushes down the hall, followed by the door opening. Typical villain. Didn’t even wash his hands. I think I might be off by a couple inches from where he left me, but this is as good as I can do. It would have been nice to have more time, and I think the message was a little garbled, but I didn’t exactly have time to correct anything.

“Good, still here,” Fabbri notes as he returns.

“I'm captivated. Just couldn't tear myself away.”

He laughs. “I can see why the bikers like you. A bit too much sass for my tastes, but I can appreciate the spirit. Doesn't get you off the hook, I'm afraid, but at least we can entertain ourselves.” And then he notices the phone. He looks at it, then at me, then back at it, then shakes his head. “Fuck, could've been trouble.” Then he picks some painkillers out of the first aid kit, sits down and goes back to scrolling. Feels like he's just killing time.

“I probably should've left Heather alive longer,” he says suddenly. “I can’t drive with my arm like this, but her voice wasdriving me up the fucking wall. The woman had a good mouth but she didn’t know when to shut up. My people will be here soon enough.” He looks at me, gun in hand. “I’m not quite sure what to do with you, honestly. At first I wanted you so we could get the business transferred to someone loyal to me, and then I was just curious about what kind of woman had so many people so worked up.”

He walks over and looks down at me. “I’m not sure I see the hype.”

I'm starting to wonder if there's something not quite right with him. And us crashing his party didn't make it any better. It might make it easier for the guys if he's not quite with it, but that also makes him more unpredictable, and that's not great news for me.

“You're a pretty girl. You could do a lot better than men like the Outlaw Sons. I don't understand it.”

He never will. They have a level of honor and integrity that in spite of his talk about loyalty, he'll never figure out. And they aren’t soulless madmen. And that's when I hear it. A faint rumble in the distance. Motorcycles?

“Giant cocks,” I answer to distract him. “Absolutely massive.”

Fabbri looks like he just swallowed a lemon. “You’re disgusting!”

I sigh. “And I have to go to the bathroom.”

“I should let you pee yourself in the chair,” he says with a sneer.

“Then you would have to deal with me smelling like pee.”

“Fine, fine.” He looks around for something sharp and finds the trauma shears in the first aid kit. “Sit still.”

Once I'm snipped free, he pulls his gun and points it at me.

“I'm not going to run away from the bathroom.”

“Doesn't mean I'm taking any chances. Come on. You can have the stall to yourself, but other than that I'm not letting you out of my sight until I have you bound again.”

I almost fall over when I try to get up, my legs jello after sitting for so long in the exact same position. “Wait a minute. Just waiting for the pins and needles.” I lean on the wall, trying to keep his attention away from sounds outside. “That's the problem with sitting still. My mom was the same way. Tingles almost right away. Sometimes I wonder if I just have bad circulation.” I smile awkwardly.

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