Page 34 of Wade’s Wrath

“But if you decide that you’re going back, then I'm kidnapping you,” Wade insisted.

Harlow stared at him and then laughed. “You can't kidnap me.”

“Sure I can,” he said.

“That's illegal,” she reminded.

Wade looked down at the Savage Bastards patch on his cut and then back at her. “You really haven't figured us out yet, have you?” Her laughter followed him inside, and Wade realized something as he listened to it. Frank had scared Harlow into his bar, and her father might have spent her entire life controlling her, but neither of those bastards understood what they'd done. They'd pushed her straight into the Savage Bastards, and straight to Wade, and whatever happened next, Wade was damn sure of one thing—nobody was dragging Harlow Kane anywhere ever again.

HARLOW

Harlow was beginning to think Wade enjoyed irritating her. Actually, she was almost certain of it. The smug bastard had been wearing the same faint smile since they'd walked back into the clubhouse, and every time she caught him looking at her, it grew just a little bigger—all because he'd called her a runaway bride again. She hated the nickname—mostly. The problem was that she didn't entirely hate the way it sounded when Wade said it. That was something she planned to take to her grave, though.

Harlow settled back into the chair beside him while Butcher waited at the head of the table. The other Savage Bastards had given them curious looks when they'd returned holding hands again, but thankfully, nobody commented. She'd dropped Wade's hand the second she noticed everyone staring at them. It wasn’t because she hadn't wanted to hold it anymore. That was the problem—she had. Far too much. Twenty-four hours ago, she'd been preparing to marry Frank, but now she was holding hands with a biker she'd known for less than a day and wondering what his beard would feel like against her skin if he had actually kissed her outside.

Harlow closed her eyes. What the hell was wrong with her? “You good?” Wade's quiet voice came from beside her.

She opened her eyes. “Fine,” she lied. He stared at her as though he didn’t believe her. “I'm okay,” she corrected. “Better.” She rolled her eyes, not sure how many more lies she could tell him before he stopped looking at her that way.

Butcher cleared his throat. “Can we continue?”

“Yes,” Harlow said.

Wade leaned back in his chair. “She's ready.”

Harlow turned toward him. “I can speak for myself.”

“I noticed.” One of the men across the table snorted. Harlow glared at Wade, and he smiled. She was definitely going to kill him.

Butcher looked between them. “You two done?”

“No,” Wade said.

“Yes,” Harlow answered simultaneously.

That earned several laughs, and even Butcher smiled. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

Harlow straightened. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. Wade's usually a miserable fuck. This is entertaining,” Butcher said.

“Fuck you,” Wade said.

“See?” Butcher said. Harlow bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. These men were strange. They were crude, loud, and dangerous, yet there was something genuine about them that she'd rarely experienced. They didn't pretend to like one another. They insulted each other openly. They even argued and cursed at each other. But she'd seen the way they'd moved together when Frank showed up at the bar. There was no hesitation and no questions. One of theirs needed help, and they'd responded. Harlow had spent her life surrounded by people who smiled while secretly hoping someone else failed. The Savage Bastards seemed more likely to call each other assholes while helping to hide a body. She wasn't sure which should concern her more.

Butcher's expression turned serious. “You said the warehouse belonged to Kane Logistics.”

Harlow's amusement disappeared. “Yes.”

“You sure?” he asked.

“I saw the logo on the building,” she insisted.

“Could Frank have been using your father's company without his knowledge?” Butcher asked.

Hope flickered inside her. “Yes.” Wade shifted beside her and Harlow looked at him. He didn't say anything, but she knew that he didn't believe that.

“You don't know my father,” she said.