“Let go,” I tell him quietly, “or this gets real awkward for your reputation.”
For a heartbeat, I think he’ll refuse.Tighten his grip just to prove he can.Instead, he releases me abruptly, like touching me costs him something.
“After you,” he says, gesturing toward the clubhouse.
The Sons of Sin watch as we walk inside together.I feel their eyes on my back, curiosity sharp and dangerous.They know I’m not just another woman wandering into their territory.And so does Savage.
The clubhouse smells like smoke, whiskey, and old violence.Familiar enough to make my chest ache.The bar is still there, worn wood and mismatched stools.The pool table sits in the center like a battlefield that never quite cools.
Nothing has changed.And everything has.Savage shuts the door behind us.The sound echoes.
“You want to tell me why you’re here?”he asks.
I turn slowly to face him.“I need a place to lay low.”
His jaw tightens.“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting for free.”
He studies me like he’s peeling back layers, looking for the lie.I let him.I didn’t come back to beg.
“Did you bring trouble with you?”he asks.
I shrug.“Trouble follows me everywhere.Difference is, this time it’s wearing cartel colors.”
That gets his attention.It’s subtle, the shift in his posture, the way his focus sharpens, but it’s there.President mode slides into place.“Explain,” he orders.
“Someone’s moving product through Vegas that doesn’t belong to them,” I say.“They think I know something I don’t.Or maybe something I used to.Either way, I ended up on their radar.”
Savage’s eyes narrow.“You came here because you think my cut makes you untouchable?”
“No,” I say bluntly.“I came here because you hate people encroaching on your territory.And because you don’t hand women over to wolves.”That last part hangs between us.
He steps closer, looming now, all hard lines and quiet menace.“You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“I’m still alive,” I reply, “so I must be doing something right.”
For a long moment, he just stares at me.I can see it, the war behind his eyes.Duty versus instinct.Power versus history.“You can stay,” he says finally.“For now.”
It’s not an offer.It’s containment.I smile, slow and sharp.“Thought you didn’t do favors.”
“This isn’t a favor,” he says.“It’s a problem I’m managing.”
“Sure,” I reply.“Tell yourself whatever helps you sleep.”
His gaze drops to my mouth for half a second before snapping back to my eyes.
“I’ll have someone show you where you can crash,” he says.“You don’t leave the compound without clearance.”
I laugh bitterly.“Still trying to cage me.”
His voice drops, softer than I expect.“Still trying to keep you alive.”The words land heavier than any threat.
I step past him, brushing his shoulder on purpose.“Good luck with that, Savage.I’ve never been easy to protect.”
Behind me, I feel his attention like a brand.And I know, deep down, this isn’t just my past catching up with me.This is the beginning of something dangerous.Something intimate.Something neither of us is ready to survive clean.
