Page 14 of Cruel Savior

I'm not doing this for you.

His words had been deliberately harsh and I'd be best to remember he meant them. This wasn't a reunion, or a blast from the past. We had a dangerous case to solve before it got worse.

Feeling a little steadier with those serious thoughts on my mind, I made my way back to the kitchen island and accepted the plate he held out to me. My stomach instantly growled again. "It smells really good."

"I get that from the noises you're making."

My face flamed hot. Stomach or not, him noticing little things about me made me uncomfortable. I didn’t want to be under a microscope. It took a lot of effort on my part not to fill my plate and go eat alone in my room. The idea of sharing a meal with him was not my idea of fun.He would keep asking questions and it was only a matter of time before he crossed the line and wanted personal answers.

I ignored his comments and dished up a small serving. I was not going to run and hide. I reminded myself that this was my house (sort of), and I didn't have to answer anything I didn't want to. He couldn't intimidate me. Before I took my seat, I grabbed a bottle of water, the napkins, and some silverware and moved to the farthest seat from his.

He glanced at me and I quickly looked away. I opted to focus on my food, but one bite in, and I moaned my appreciation. "This is really good."

"It's okay, being that it came from a can. I prefer homemade sauce, but this will definitely do in a pinch."

I thought he was undervaluing his skills. I'd watched him wield the array of spices like a pro and this no longer resembled bland can sauce. However, I wasn't going to argue the point. If he could do this with boring pantry ingredients, I couldn't imagine how it would be with fresh.

"Do you cook a lot?" I asked.

"Not often. Since so many of us live on the compound, we usually have the prospects cook for us. It's a prerequisite for them now."

"To cook or live on the compound?" I didn't have to ask what a prospect was because Axel had been one when we were dating. Although his probationary period to become a full-fledged member of the motorcycle club had been coming to an end. He'd likely patched in right after I left.

"Both. Everyone has to start out living there these days. Prospecting is more than a full-time job and they're expected to be available for anything at any time."

"That sounds harsh," I said before taking another delicious bite of food. This time I managed to contain my moan, but it was no less delightful. I shuddered to think what this man was now capable of if this was just a hint of what he could do. How many other skills had he mastered since we were teens?

He shrugged. "It is and it isn't. It definitely is a huge time commitment, but every time we allow someone we don't know inside and out on the compound we are taking a big risk. By each man sacrificing most of his time to the club, it allows us to not only get to know him and what he can do but gives us a little bit of a safety net that he isn't going to cause us trouble because he's under a lot of supervision.”

I paused, fork halfway to my mouth. "That sounds incredibly paranoid. Even the training I got from the federal government didn't require round the clock supervision."

"I don't know what to tell you. We've tested out different methods and styles of training over the years and this is the best for the club."

For the club. There were three little words that could consume a person's life. It seemed for these men, everything led back to that. I would know because Sins of Wrath was not the only motorcycle club I'd dealt with in my life. The government had used my experience in convenient ways.

I grabbed my glass of water and drank down several swallows. This, sitting here and talking to him like it was nothing, was a lot harder than I’d expected and I’d known it wouldn’t be easy. Luckily, Axel must have understood the tension as he finished his meal without any more conversation. When I was done, I got up and put my dirty dishes in the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen, wrapping up the leftovers before placing them in the fridge.

“Those will be even better the second day,” he said, his voice suddenly right behind me.

When I turned back around,I nearly jumped to find him so close. “Then we shouldn’t let them go to waste.” I hated that I sounded so breathless, but I couldn’t quite catch my breath.

“Did I scare you, Mandy?”

I shook my head, unable to verbally respond with the sound of my nickname from his lips drowning in my mind. This close, I could smell him, and that combination of pine, motor oil and the musk from his soap was an immediate time warp to the past.

I closed my eyes and forced a breath deep into my lungs. I’d forgotten that smell and how it affected me. Until right now.

My chest squeezed. He did scare me. In so many ways, and I hadn’t realized how much until now. This was bad. So so bad.

“No, I’m fine,” I lied, scooting around the island to put some much-needed space between us. I never should have let him in. Just because my father hired him didn't mean I had to cooperate. He could have stayed outside. Slept in the barn. There was a decent apartment out there that would keep him a nice distance from me.

You wanted this.

The little bitchy voice inside my head taunted me. There was no denying I'd made this too easy for him. Now I was backed into a corner and had no choice but to continue down this path with him. Dammit!

"I bet you're regretting letting me in right about now."

My head swiveled around so fast I nearly got whiplash. How was he practically reading my mind? "I would say that's ridiculous, but I think I was pretty clear that I didn't think it was a great idea. Why? Are you having second thoughts? You don't have to take this job. My dad's just covering all his bases. If Theresa hadn't opened that package for me none of this would be happening."

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