Page 69 of Wade’s Wrath

The humor left his face, and he nodded. “That's the plan.”

Harlow glanced around the clubhouse and at the men preparing to risk their lives for women they didn't know. Then she looked at Wade. He'd walked into her life less than two days ago. Or maybe she'd walked into his. Either way, everything had changed.

Her father had spent years teaching her that power came from money. Frank believed it came from fear. But standing inside the Savage Bastards' clubhouse, Harlow was beginning to understand something neither man had ever learned. Sometimes power came from people willing to stand beside you when they had absolutely nothing to gain. Tomorrow, the Savage Bastards were going after Sarah. And after that? Harlow was going after her father.

WADE

Taking Harlow home was supposed to accomplish one thing—them both getting some sleep. That was it. Wade needed a few hours before tomorrow because there was a damn good chance he wouldn't get any once the Savage Bastards started moving on the warehouse. Harlow needed sleep even more because she'd been running on fear, caffeine, and stubbornness for two days. So Wade had a plan—get her home and into his bed, and take his ass to the couch to get four hours of sleep. Maybe five if the universe decided to stop being an asshole for once. His plan was simple, except nothing involving Harlow had been simple since she'd walked into his bar wearing a wedding dress.

Wade glanced across the cab of his truck. She hadn't said much since they'd left the clubhouse. Her head rested against the window, and she stared into the darkness as the miles passed. “You okay?”

She didn't look at him. “No.”

At least she wasn't lying anymore. “Want to talk?”

“No,” she breathed.

“Okay,” he said.

She only waited a few seconds before saying, “Sarah's alive.” He wasn’t sure if she was telling him that or saying it to remind herself.

“Yeah, she is,” he said.

“At least she was three days ago.”

Wade tightened his hands around the steering wheel. “Yeah, she was.”

“And my father knew where she was this whole time,” she breathed. He didn't answer. What the fuck was he supposed to say? Richard Kane was a piece of shit? Wade already thought that, and Harlow was only beginning to accept it.

“I keep thinking about all the times I defended him,” she said.

“You didn't know,” he reminded.

“I should have known,” she said.

“No, you couldn’t have known any of this,” he insisted.

She finally looked at him. “You told me earlier that I should've called Sarah.”

“Yeah, I did,” he admitted.

“Now you're telling me I couldn't have known?” she said.

“Both can be true,” he said with a shrug.

She frowned. “You're surprisingly reasonable sometimes.”

“Don't spread that around,” Wade grumbled.

“I wouldn't want to ruin your reputation,” she said.

“Appreciate it.” Silence settled between them again, and Wade reached over and turned down the radio. Harlow's hand was resting on the seat between them, and he looked at it, then back at the road. Fuck it. He reached over and offered his hand, palm up. He didn't grab her or assume that she’d accept his offered hand. He just waited. Harlow looked down and then slipped her fingers through his, and Wade's chest tightened. That shouldn't have felt as good as it did. They were just holding hands. He'd done a hell of a lot more with women than hold their fucking hands, but this was Harlow, and everything with her felt different. More importantly, it felt more dangerous.

She squeezed his hand. “Wade?”

“Yeah?” he whispered.

“Are you scared about tomorrow?” she asked.