Page 11 of Maverick's Code

I start to protest again, but Sadie's voice stops me.

"I understand," she says quietly. "I'd do the same in your position."

"Smart girl," Hellfire nods approvingly. "Johnny taught you well."

The others start filing out, checking weapons, preparing for what's to come. I stand there, torn between my duty to the club and this inexplicable need to be part of taking down the men who hurt her.

"Mav," Hellfire pauses at the door. "Keep her safe. If this goes sideways, they'll come looking for her first."

I nod grimly, watching as my brothers prepare for battle without me for the first time in years. When the door closes behind them, leaving Sadie and me alone in the suddenly quiet room, she squeezes my hand.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I didn't mean to keep you from the fight."

I look down at her, at our still-joined hands, and feel some of my frustration ebb away.

"Not your fault. Hellfire's right - it's the smart play."

"Still," she starts to pull her hand away, but I tighten my grip slightly.

"Don't," I say, softer than intended. "You've got nothing to apologize for."

The sound of bikes firing up outside fills the silence between us. Through the window, I watch my brothers roll out, heading toward what could be the biggest fight since we took down the Outlaws' leadership last month. And here I am, benched.

"They'll be okay," Sadie says, reading my tension. "Jake and Marcus... they're not expecting anyone to find them. They think they're untouchable."

"Yeah?" I pull out a chair and sit beside her, still holding her hand. "Like they thought you were under control?"

A bitter smile touches her split lip.

"Exactly. Their arrogance..." she shakes her head. "It's their weakness. They never think anyone would dare stand against them."

"But you did," I say, staring at her. "Even knowing what they'd do to you if they caught you."

She turns to face me, and suddenly we're closer than I expected. Close enough that I can see the golden flecks in her brown eyes and the slight tremble in her injured lip.

"I couldn't stay," she whispers. "Not after learning what they did to my father. Not after Jake..." she breaks off, but I can fill in the blanks.

"Hey," I reach up without thinking, gently touching her unbruised cheek. "He's never going to touch you again. None of them are."

She leans slightly into my touch, her eyes closing briefly. "You make it sound so simple."

"It is simple," I say, even though nothing about this situation - about the way she affects me - is simple at all. "You're under Iron & Blood protection now. Under my protection."

Her eyes open, meeting mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch.

"Why?" she asks softly. "Why are you doing all this for me?"

It's a damn good question - one I'm not sure I have the answer to yet. Or maybe I do, but I'm not ready to admit it.

"My old man," I say finally, letting my hand drop from her cheek but not releasing her other hand. "He was this grumpy ex-military bastard who drilled a code into me before I could even ride a bike. 'Protect those in need,' he'd say, 'even if they were your enemy five minutes ago.' Never understood it when I was a kid, thought it made him soft."

"And now?" she asks, something vulnerable in her expression.

"Now I think he was the strongest man I knew. Standing up for what's right, even when it's hard - that takes more guts than following the easy path of hate."

"You have a good relationship with him?"

"Had," I correct gently. "He died a long time ago. Cancer."

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