"Sure." She sipped her coffee. "She asked Lily what everyone's jobs were this morning. Wanted to understand how the club functioned. Lil said she had questions about everything but not in a nosy way, just genuinely curious. Wanted to understand the world she'd landed in."
Rampage filed that away.
"She also," Savannah continued, in the particular tone of a woman who knew she was delivering relevant information and was enjoying it slightly more than necessary, "asked if you were always like this."
He looked at her. "Like what."
"Lily's words were, and I quote, 'intense but not in a scary way, more like a brick wall that's on your side.'" Savannah smiled into her mug. "She was quoting Emily."
Rampage looked back at the common room, where Emily was now attempting to explain to Irish why a grown man should not be this emotionally dependent on a dog, and Irish was responding with what appeared to be a detailed and impassioned counterargument.
A brick wall that's on your side.
He went back to the table and opened his laptop, he could at least pretend he was working and not obsessively watching his little girl.
CHAPTER 7
EMILY
By noon she knew everyone's names, Clover's full backstory, and the precise hierarchy of which club members were allowed to touch Savage's truck.
The answer to the last one was nobody, a rule that had apparently been violated once by a prospect three years ago and was still being discussed with the energy of a recent wound.
"He keyed it?" Emily asked.
"Heleanedon it," Savage said, with the weight of a man recounting a war crime. "With his belt buckle."
"Did the belt buckle leave a mark?"
Savage pointed at her. "The fact that you're asking if it left a mark suggests you don't understand the principle."
"I understand the principle. I just think the punishment of permanent exile from the compound might be?—"
"He's not exiled. He just doesn't come near the truck."
"You made him park on the street."
"The street isright there."
Nicole pressed her face into a throw pillow to muffle her laughter. Lily didn't bother muffling anything. Savannah just rolled her eyes.
“My Daddy isn’t as scary as he looks,” Savannah said. “He’s all bark and no bite.”
Emily wasn’t sure if Savannah understood what she’d just said. She outed herself as a little in front of everyone. Looking around, she realized not a single person had noticed. Emily had so many questions. How many of them were littles? Were other Watchmen Daddies?
Emily looked at Savage and at his big, broad, a face that seemed structurally opposed to smiling, and thought that she understood now why Lily had saidthey're not what you think.None of them were. Irish was tender under the mountain of him. Nicole was sharp and warm in equal measure. Savage cared about his truck the way some men cared about their children, which was, when you got past the surface of it, actually pretty endearing. He definitely loved Savannah.
And Rampage?—
Rampage was at the table across the room with his laptop and his coffee, and he'd been there all morning, and he hadn't hovered exactly, but he also hadn't left, and every time she looked up he wasn't looking at her, but she had the distinct and unscientific feeling that he had been a half-second before.
Savannah had pulled her aside earlier, briefly, just to sayyou can talk to me if you need to. About anything. Lily and Nicole too.And the way she'd said it, the particular weight she’d put onanything, had made Emily's face go warm. Was she alluding to the fact that Emily was a little? Could she know? Was there a little radar?
Savannah dropped onto the couch next to her with a bowl of chips and the energy of someone who had decided they were friends already and was simply waiting for Emily to catch up.
"Can I ask you something?" Savannah said.
"Sure."
