Page 25 of Outlaws’ Runaway

Poe raises a hand and tips it back and forth noncommittally. “Sort of. MCs are full of people who can’t stand structure, but fucking need it at the same time. We have a chain of command,like in the military, but based on strength, respect and loyalty. Nobody gets anywhere without all three. At the top is the president, ours is Hellfire. He's a fucking hardass. Moved up when our old president, General, got sniped by some fuckers from another club.”

“That's terrible.”

“I can’t lie, it hadn’t been long since I’d been sworn in, and it got fucking dark for a while, even for us. Almost tore the club apart, but Hellfire held us together and we’re stronger than fucking ever.” There's a violent edge to his tone that makes me think there’s a lot he isn’t saying.

“So Savage is… higher rank than you?” I guess.

He nods. “He's an officer. One of two right now, him and Ghost. There's usually a vice president, but Hellfire hasn't made his choice yet since he stepped up. Usually that would lead to a pissing contest, but both Ghost and Savage are more invested in the club than they are in measuring their dicks. I'm on Savage's squad, so obviously he's my choice.” He smiles, almost sheepishly.

“You guys seem close.”

“We're brothers. Not because we happened to be born to the same people, but because we fucking pull each other’s asses out of the fire when it counts. Like today. All the Outlaw Sons are my brothers, but Crank and Savage? We went through the trenches together and came out stronger. I'd trust them with my life, anytime, anywhere. And I'd do fucking anything to protect theirs.”

“You’re lucky. I think most people only find one or two people in their entire life that they trust that deeply.” I had one, and she’s gone.

Poe puts his arm around my shoulders. “You got us.”

“For now. Because I’m going to pay you.” Do I sound bitter? I think I sound bitter.

“Baby, think about it. If we didn’t want to help, do you really think any amount of money woulda made us stick around?” He squeezes me. “We take the jobs we fucking want to.”

I look up at him, tracing his jawline with my eyes right back to where the scar on his neck is. Before I think too hard about it, I reach up and touch it, brushing his black hair out of the way as I trace the pale white line with my fingertips, right next to the dragon tattoo that comes up from his back. “That looks like it was a close call.”

He grabs my hand, holding a little too hard before he relaxes his fist.

“Sorry.”

“Nah, I’m sorry. It was…” He tugs the elastic out of his hair and runs his fingers through it, letting the dark strands fall over the scar. “Let’s just say that someone I shoulda been able to trust gave it to me as a going away present.” The texture of his calluses is rough, but it makes him feel real. He lets go.

I don’t know why I do it, but I stick my hand right back into the fire and trace the line again, more carefully this time. His coal black eyes watch me closely. His pulse thrums under my fingers, a steady beat that’s slowly picking up speed. His hand slides down to my side, right above my hip, getting a good grip.

“We probably shouldn’t…” Shouldn’t what?

He puts a hand under my jaw and tilts it up, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Maybe we should. I think I like where this is going.” He touches his lips to the tip of my nose with a soft kiss. “I'd rather taste your pretty lips, though. Is that what you want?”

Maybe it's the adrenaline that's still coursing through me, but I want something physical to connect with. To actually feel I'm all right. To feel like I matter to someone in even a little of the way he’s talking about. I wet my lips, and his eyes drop just a moment to watch before his mouth is slanted over mine and I’m practically crawling into his lap.

Just as his hand starts to slide up the back of my shirt and our tongues come together, a boom shakes the ground. We wrench apart. Wide-eyed, I grab his arms and gasp. “What was that?”

“Sorry about that!” Crank shouts. “Tank blew a little harder than expected.”

A moment later, he and Savage come around the corner. They are covered in blood, dust and now streaks of black soot, but they’re looking pleased with themselves.

“The bodies and the van are dealt with, at least until someone decides to check their dental records. We should get the fuck outta here.” Savage tilts his head, looking between me and Poe. He raises an eyebrow. I pull a little farther away and take a gulp of water that goes down the wrong way and sets off a coughing fit. “Everything good here?”

“Perfect.” Poe nudges me to stand, then follows. He leaves his hand on my hip, like he's making a claim. “Let's go.”

13

SAVAGE

“This iswhere we split up. You and Poe are going to the club,” I order. “Me and Crank will go watch your uncle’s place and see what we learn.”

Paige starts to interrupt but I hold up a hand.

“No, you can’t go with us. This is purely informational. I’m not fucking taking the risk of you deciding to walk up and ring your uncle’s doorbell because things are moving too slow for your tastes.”

“Fine,” she says with a frustrated pout. “But even if he’s involved with dangerous people, he’s anaccountant. What’s he going to do with the three of you here?”

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