"Do they know she’s here?” My throat's raw, like I've been screaming.
"Not yet."
Yet.
The word hangs in the air like gun smoke.
Have I painted a target on her back just by keeping her here? But when I think of sending her away—I’d sooner cut off my own hand.
"Round-the-clock surveillance when she leaves the compound." My voice comes out flat. Cold. The tone that makes prospects nervous. "And I want those three assholes identified. Names, addresses, where they drink, where they fuck, where they shit. Everything."
Steel watches me for a long moment. “We’re gonna need to take this to a vote." Steel's voice carries the weight of his twenty years as president of this club. "Can't commit club resources without making it official. She needs to be recognized."
I know what he’s saying. He’s telling me I need to claim her—make her my old lady.
My ol’ lady.
“You sure about this brother?” Steel doesn’t blink as he studies me with a focused intensity. “You sure it’s what you want?”
Is it what I want?
Once she’s voted in, she's blood.
I turn to scan the room, looking for her. She's behind the bar right now laughing at something Trix said. Her shoulders have started to relax, the constant tension slowly easing as she realizes no one here is going to hurt her. Damn. Three days she'sbeen here. Three days, and she's already under my skin in a way I can't shake.
I want my patch on her back and my ring on her finger so every man who walks through that door knows she's claimed. I want to wake up with her wrapped around me and fall asleep knowing she's safe because the Hellbound Devils have her back.
“Hell, yeah," I say aloud. “She belongs here. With me.”
Diesel grins. "About damn time you wised up. Been watching you moon over her for three days like a lovesick bitch."
"Fuck you."
"Yeah, yeah. Save it for your ol’ lady.”
When I glance back at the bar, Cami’s not there. Where the fuck did she go? I’m about the raise holy hell when she steps in through the side door. Everything about her is wrong.
Her face is bone-white. Her hands are trembling so bad she can't work the deadbolt. Her breathing is too fast, too shallow.
I'm across the room in seconds. “Hey.”
She jumps like I've shot her. When her eyes finally focus on me, they're blown wide with fear.
"What happened?" I grip her shoulders, gently, despite the fury building in my skull.
"Someone—" She swallows. Tries again. "There was someone by the dumpster. In the shadows. Just standing there. Watching me."
Every cell in my body goes to war—half wanting to hunt whoever scared her, half needing to keep her close, keep her safe.
"Tank, Diesel,” My voice cracks like a whip. "Perimeter. Someone’s out back by the dumpster.”
They move fast, taking a couple prospects with them. The rest of the club shifts into alert mode without needing orders.
I pull Cami against my chest. Her heart hammers against my ribs like it's trying to break free.
"You're okay. I've got you."
"I'm sorry. I know you said be careful, but I was just taking out the garbage. I didn't think?—"
