Page 35 of Savage Hunter

Sleep is the last thing on my mind. But I am tired.

I walk past a scowling Wolfe and open the basement door. I have seen little of the infirmary since coming to live at the Savages compound. Exploring my new home hasn’t been up there on the top of my to do list.

Getting money and a new ID has. Ares didn’t blink an eye at me asking for new papers. He also didn’t ask about my past and why I have no desire to return to my family. Silent understanding is an art these men have perfected. He didn’t bother asking for proof of my name either. Offering information that can be used against me seems counterproductive and could put every single one of them in more danger.

So I’ve kept my lips closed, my ears open and made sure my wallflower status never changes.

Now all I need is a full-time job instead of the part-time job at the Asylum. Ares thinks I need to be coddled and sheltered but what I really need is more money so I can get out of here.

I watch as Fergie is first to head down the stairs, a Marlboro Red hanging from her lips. Nobody will get between her and any of the men. She’s taken care of them for so long she’s like a mother to them all. It’s funny to see these big, muscular dudes all move out of her way the second she moves their way. Her son, Casanova, helps her down the stairs, and then is right back to playing guard at the entrance.

Dragon and Asena along with their baby girl go down together. Persi wants to be next, but I don’t know if she can handle the stairs looking so pale. She groans when she pushes off the couch but, pale or not, that woman doesn’t look like she is going to let pain stop her from getting to Rage. Mace and the club candy walk past her and head down first. But when Persi gets to the head of the stairs Casanova stops her.

“Ma’am, this is club business.”

“Oh, really?”

I watch the Colombian drug princess step into the playboy’s face. She’s a good half a foot shorter and the pound for pound difference is remarkable. But she goes toe to toe with him, her hand holding her stitches. I can tell we are going to be good friends. She’s the ball-busting strong woman I want to be.

“Club business, huh?”

I slide my gaze to Wolfe. He’s got one ankle hooked over the other, his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his lips. He seems to enjoy the show and waiting for Casanova to lose the fight. The old Wolfe would step in and handling the situation, but the man I see today simply stands back and watches trouble unfold.

I guess he feels my eyes on him because he swivels his head and holds my gaze unflinchingly. Dark interest sizzles in the way his penetrating gaze homes in on me. He looks different but good all the same. Intense. Red lights go off inside my head warning me to be cautious where Wolfe is concerned. How did he get here? How is he alive? Is trouble behind him? I know he wants to ask how I got here, too. That and other questions glitter behind those thick lashes. I’m surprised he’s not pulling me out the front door and dragging me off to some secluded spot so he can pepper me with all the curiosity shimmering like an aura around him.

“Yes, club business and you are not part of the club.” I hear Casanova going on with Persi in the background, neither of them letting up.

I tune them out.

Club business. If I’ve learned anything about the biker life, it’s business above all else and then personal time. I fall into the latter category.

He is biding his time, and when we are alone, I know I won’t be able to deny him anything he wants to know which scares the living crap out of me. My stomach twists and knots around the ball of worry growing inside me. I know I won’t hide anything from him. How can I? That leaves only one question to ask myself. When he asks me about my time at the Society,how muchwill I tell him? Rational thinking says only enough to sate his curiosity. But the longing to have his hands on me says not to share the truth. He’ll run. He’ll look at me like I am trash. I rub at the sharp pain in my chest. Thinking he was dead felt easier than facing the disgust on his face once he discovers how ruined I am.

Wolfe unhooks his feet and comes to stand in front of me. His hand is warm on my face. Too warm. Too comfortable.

“Harmonia, I…”

I move my hand over his heart and feel the steady beat of it. Tears, the damn things are always threatening to escape lately, burn the rims of my eyes. “Later okay. Just… later.”

“Whatever you need. But I’m not going anywhere.”

I turn back to Persi and Casanova, but Wolfe’s intense gaze lingers on the side of my face. He watches every move I make as I walk toward Persi.

“Okay, you have to give blood to get in, right?”

Casanova looks like he wants to melt into the floor rather than have an argument with Rage’s friend. “Something like that, yeah. Come on, don’t make this difficult.”

“I gave a good pint to the man on top of losing a lot more on the cough over there. That should qualify me.”

“Just let her in,” I jump in, tired of all the back and forth already.

Casanova looks like he mentally pours cement around his feet. “It doesn’t work like that, Avery. Damn it. You know that. He’s out right now, anyway.” The blatant lie rolls off his tongue causing Persi to go from warm to hot in a flash.

“Puta madre! Don’t lie to me!”

Oh, ouch. I cringe a little for my friend who turns a shade of red I have never seen on a man.

“Look,” Casanova tries to move her back to the couch, but he’s not having any luck.

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