Page 8 of Savage Sanctuary

“I mean, you don’t even know me. I could be a thief,” I grumbled.

“You are not that stupid.”

My jaw dropped at his bluntness. He paid me no heed, grabbing his helmet.

“I’m just heading to the clubhouse not far from here. I’ll be back. So, sit your ass on the couch and don’t move.” He marched toward the door.

“Wait!” I yelled. “I-I don’t even know your name.”

He paused.

“Knox.” That was the last thing he said to me before he left.

Chapter Four

Knox

I should have killed her.

I never should have let her live. I didn’t know what got into me. I was selfish, violent, and constantly considered a reincarnation of the Devil. That was my reputation, and I was fine with it.

I didn’t understand why I let myself consider harboring a woman I knew nothing about. I barely slept all night. I tossed and turned in my sleep, constantly going over to where she was curled like a ball. She wouldn’t stop whimpering and pleading for him to stop.

I wasn’t affected by violence, yet the very sight of her last night, bruised and battered with such cruelty, made me feel like I had an explosive inside me that would go off in no time. It made me want to protect her. I fucking hated it. Her too.

I spent the better part of this morning obsessing over the locks in my house, because for some reason, I didn’t think she’d be safe on her own.

Those were the thoughts running through my head as I rode toward the clubhouse. The rain hammered against my helmet. Mud sprayed beneath the tires of my bike. Thunder cracked overhead, loud enough to rattle the trees lining the property.

None of it drowned out the image of her bruised face. I tightened my grip on the handlebars. Maybe I should have stayed back with her at home.

What the fuck, Knox? the voice in my head chided me. I didn’t do attachments or care about people, but this tiny woman, since she showed up out of nowhere last night with an infuriating sob story, had been wreaking more havoc than I could possibly wrap my head around.

What did it matter anyway? I’d fucking throw her out by morning. And then, everything would be back to normal.

Somehow, admitting that made my blood boil. The look in her eyes haunted me. It wasn’t fear of me. It was fear of what would happen if she was found.

I pulled into the clubhouse parking lot and killed the engine. The pounding music assaulted my ears instantly. For some reason, it irritated the fuck out of me today. I shoved through the front doors. The place was packed. Sons filled every corner of the clubhouse. Girls danced on tables. Liquor flowed freely. Usually, I didn’t give a shit. But today, I wanted everyone to shut the fuck up.