Page 70 of Wade’s Wrath

He could've lied, and probably he should have. Instead, he told her the truth. “Yeah.”

Her fingers tightened around his. “You don't act scared.”

“Being scared doesn't mean you stop moving, though,” he said.

Harlow looked out the windshield. “Princess said something like that.”

“Princess is smart,” he said. “Don't tell Butcher that I said that, though.” Wade laughed, and so did Harlow.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” she said. Another mile passed before Harlow whispered, “Come back tomorrow.”

Wade looked at her. She was staring straight ahead. “Harlow.”

“I know that you won't make a promise you can't keep,” she said. Her voice cracked slightly. “I just needed to say it.”

Wade lifted her hand and pressed his mouth against her knuckles. “I'll do everything I can.” She nodded. That was all he could give her, and she knew it.

Wade checked the house twice before he let Harlow inside. “You think somebody's here?” she asked. He hated hearing the fear in her voice.

“No,” he said.

“Then why are you checking?” she asked.

“Because thinking and knowing are two different things.” She followed him through the living room, and Wade checked the back door, along with the windows and the kitchen. Nothing had been disturbed, and there was no sign anyone had gotten inside. He walked back to the bedroom and pulled the curtains before locking the bedroom windows. When he turned around, Harlow was standing in the doorway.

“You're really worried,” she said.

“Nope, just being cautious,” he said.

“It’s the same thing,” she insisted.

“Not even close,” he argued.

She leaned against the doorframe. “What happens if they come here?”

“They won't,” he insisted.

“Wade,” she said.

He sighed. “If they do, they're gonna have a really shitty night.” That earned him a small smile. “Go get ready for bed.”

She looked down at herself. “I don't have pajamas,” she said. “I didn’t buy any.”

“You can wear one of my shirts,” he offered. Her eyes lifted to his, and that fucking look was nearly his undoing. Wade immediately regretted offering her his shirt again, because now he was remembering last night and Harlow walking into his kitchen wearing his oversized Savage Bastards shirt and not much else. Fuck.

“Right,” she said. Her mouth curved. “Your shirt.”

“Don't,” Wade whispered.

“Don't what?” she asked, playing dumb.

“You know what,” he growled.

“I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about,” she said sweetly, batting her eyes at him.

“Bullshit,” he barked. She smiled and disappeared into the bedroom. Wade stared after her. “Pain in my fucking ass.”

“I heard that,” she called back.