Page 47 of Wade’s Wrath

She pointed at him. “Behave.”

Wade grinned. “No promises.”

A man sitting at the bar laughed. “Never thought I'd see the day.”

Wade looked over. “What?”

The older man lifted his beer. “Somebody finally bossing you around in your own damn bar.”

“Drink your beer, Earl,” Wade grumbled. Earl chuckled, and Harlow smiled. She liked this place, and that realization surprised her. Wade's Watering Hole wasn't anything like the places she'd frequented before. There were no crystal chandeliers and no valet parking. Nobody cared what designer made her shoes. People were loud and sometimes crude. The jukebox was probably older than she was, the wooden floor was scarred, and somebody had carved a very detailed penis into the men's bathroom door—Harlow had discovered that one accidentally, and she laughed for five minutes. The bar felt real, and nobody there knew Harlow Kane—not really. She was just Harlow—Wade's new employee. She liked that too; maybe most of all.

The front door opened, and Harlow automatically looked up. Her smile disappeared as a man in a dark suit walked inside. Her body went cold, and Wade seemed to notice instantly. He was beside her before she'd even registered him moving.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. She couldn't answer as she watched the man glance around the bar. “Harlow?” Wade's voice dropped. “Do you know him?”

She shook her head. “No.” But she knew the type—the expensive suit, polished shoes, and controlled expression. He was from the world that she ran from.

The stranger's gaze moved across the room and then landed on her. Recognition flashed in his eyes. Fuck. Wade saw it too, and his entire demeanor changed. The relaxed bartender disappeared, and the VP of the Savage Bastard took his place. He stepped in front of her.

“Can I help you?” Wade asked the man as he approached the bar.

“I'm looking for Harlow Kane,” he said.

Wade leaned both hands against the counter. “Never heard of her.” Harlow almost laughed despite the fear that was choking her.

The man's gaze shifted around Wade. “She's standing behind you.”

Wade looked over his shoulder. “Oh.” Harlow stared at him, and he shrugged. “Guess I have heard of her.”

The stranger didn't look amused. “Ms. Kane, your father sent me.”

Her stomach dropped. “Of course he did.”

“He'd like you to come home,” the man said.

“No.” The answer came easily, and Harlow almost smiled. The man blinked at her because nobody told Richard Kane no. His daughter certainly hadn't very often—until now.

“Ms. Kane—” the man started.

“I said no,” Harlow said louder this time.

“Your father is concerned,” the man insisted.

“I'm sure he's furious,” she countered.

“He's worried about you,” the man said.

“That's new,” she breathed.

Wade remained between them, and the man looked at him. “This is a family matter.”

Wade smiled, and it wasn't friendly. “Funny, I heard something similar last night.”

The man's expression hardened. “Mr. Kane doesn't want trouble with the Savage Bastards.”

“Then he shouldn't send trouble into my bar,” Wade growled.

“I came alone,” the man lied.