“Punished?” Her gaze jumped to his again.
“Punished.” Savage repeated the word without hesitation. “Never pretended I was one of those really nice men, baby. You knew that from the first time we met.”
They were close to the cottage. He had texted his brothers to come, keep an eye on things, and as they approached the narrow street that was really no more than an alleyway between her cottage and the field overlooking the bluffs, his cell vibrated. He pulled the phone from his pocket and glanced down.
Stalker-scout Joseph Arnold and the asshole guitar player who couldn’t tune his own guitar, Hank Waitright, had walked right into Seychelle’s house as if they owned the place and were waiting for her. Savage angled himself and Seychelle as they approached the house so they couldn’t be seen from the doorway or window.
“Babe, go on in. I’ll be right there. I want to make sure my bike’s locked up. I put it in the garage, but I didn’t secure it in case you kicked me out.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve never kicked you out.”
“You’ve thought about it.”
Seychelle smiled. “That’s true. But now you’re showing me really dirty, sinful things, so I guess I’ll have to keep you around for a little longer.”
He watched her walk right up to the door, no hesitation. Head up. That golden hair swinging. Her hips. He knew she carried his prints on her skin, and just that knowledge had his cock aching. He liked the feeling. She said she felt alive. That was the way she made him feel every minute.
She froze just inside the door with it still open. She was smart, his woman, and she didn’t turn around to alert the two to the fact that she wasn’t alone. She simply left the door ajar as she moved farther into the house. Savage picked up the pace. Destroyer, Maestro and Keys, three of his Torpedo Ink brothers, came around the sides of the house and just stood by the outside of the door, waiting.
“Get the hell out of my house,” Seychelle said. Her voice was low but angry. Savage had never heard her speak in that tone.
“I don’t think you’re in any position to order us to do anything,” Hank said. “You’re going to do what we say or you’re going to find yourself in a very bad way, Seychelle. We could really fuck you up and no one would know.”
Savage decided it was a good time to make himself known. He stepped out of the doorway, fully into the room, coming behind Seychelle and gently moving her aside so he faced the two men, who had made themselves right at home. They were sitting in the two most comfortable armchairs she had.
“I’d be interested in knowing how you plan to fuck my woman up, Hank.” He spoke quietly. Very softly. That should have told both of them they were fucked. He could see Joseph got it, Hank not so much, but then Joseph had already felt Savage’s fists pounding his body before.
“I’m calling the cops,” Seychelle said. Her voice was shaking.
“No, baby. You don’t want to do that,” Savage said, keeping his voice low. Calm. Very steady but commanding. “I’ll handle them.”
The two men stared at him. Joseph looked scared. Hank looked defiant.
“They broke into my house,” she said.
“Yeah, they did, but it’s best never to call the cops. If these two end up dead, we don’t want a trail leading back to us.”
Her hand twisted in his shirt.
Savage pulled her into his arms. “Seychelle. You’re safe. The brothers are right outside. These two are going to apologize to you right now and tell you they aren’t coming back.”
“Fuck you,” Hank burst out.
“Or they might apologize later. Either way, they won’t be coming back,” Savage amended, keeping his voice gentle. “You get ready for bed and I’ll be right back.” He kissed the top of her head, his arms tight around her. “Gentlemen, do either of you have anything to say to Seychelle before you leave?”
Joseph shook his head and started toward the door. Hank flipped them off and all but pushed the music scout out of his way to get to the door. Destroyer stood on the other side looking grim-faced. He held the door open for the two men. Beside him, Maestro and Keys indicated for the two men to keep walking when they both hesitated.
“I’ll be right back, angel.” Savage kissed the corner of her mouth and then caught her chin, forcing her head up so she was looking into his eyes. “Get ready for bed. I’ll expect you to be in bed when I come back inside.” He waited for her to nod before he went to join the others.
Savage followed Joseph and Hank out and carefully closed the door. He didn’t look at either man as they turned to face him. He looked at Destroyer. Destroyer was a tall, imposing man with wide shoulders, all muscle, once handsome, now covered in scars and tattoos. He wore his hair long, his dark eyes flat and cold. Maestro stood to the left of the door with Keys beside him. Keys had hazel eyes and dark hair, while Maestro had dark hair streaked with silver. Savage nodded to them, pulling on his gloves as he stalked past them.