“Blythe gave excellent advice when she said she asks me only when she is prepared to accept whatever I tell her. My advice to you, Savage, is to never use the club as an excuse not to communicate with your partner, no matter how tough the subject. She’s your number one priority. Her emotional well-being should be. Naturally, there might be things you want to protect her from, but those should be few and far between. We were talking this morning about Code finding out the chatter online. A contract was supposedly put out on Savage, Blythe.”
Blythe gasped. “No. Who?”
Czar shrugged. “We have no idea. Code is working on it. We don’t even know if it’s real.” He turned his attention back to Seychelle. “You’re absolutely right. That is your business. It’s difficult to define when we’ve never had partners before what is and what isn’t. But Savage has clearly made up his mind that no matter what, you are the most important being in his world, and he wants you happy. In spite of whatever happened before you came here, had I told him he couldn’t tell you, he would have walked out with you and told you anyway. I’m telling you that for two reasons. One, to point out how much you mean to him, and second, to point out what a pain in the ass he can be.”
Seychelle’s smile was thin, but it was there. “Why would anyone take out a contract on Savage specifically? That doesn’t make any sense.” She was trying, but her voice was shaky and her hand was trembling, pressed so tightly into his thigh.
“Told you already, baby.” Savage brought her left hand up to his mouth and kissed her fingers, feeling that ring with his lips. He wanted to take her home and spend time making love to her his way. A long, long time. Worshipping her. Watching her come apart for him. Holding her close to him and reassuring her she would always be safe with him. “I’m not a nice man. You only think I am.”
“Everything is happening fast, just as you said, Czar. There doesn’t seem to be any way to slow it down.” There were tears in her voice. Dripping.
Savage could almost taste those tears on his tongue. He was asking so much of her. To accept the club and their rules. Their absolute rules. To accept him with his terrible needs that seemed to grow just being with her. With the various things happening within the club, especially to Alena, the monster was gaining ground—slowly, but gaining. They would run out of time. If what the club members all feared happened on or after the run, time would run out and his woman would be the one sacrificing when the real sadist in him came roaring to life.
She was expected to trust him. Trust Czar. Trust the club. If the circumstances were reversed, would he give his trust to them all? Hell no, not in a million years. She was intelligent enough to know what Czar was telling her. There were consequences for breaking club rules. Just like there were consequences for breaking his rules, only the penalties for breaking club rules, depending on what they were, could be permanent. Some women wouldn’t get that. His woman would. She did.
Seychelle slowly put down the teacup. Very precisely into the saucer. “Thank you for the tea, Blythe. I really do appreciate the food and the talk. You both gave me a lot to think about.” She stood up.
Savage cursed, his blood suddenly running cold. Ice-cold. He kept possession of her hand. “Thanks, Czar. Blythe. I know we interrupted your day.”
“Anytime, Savage. The door’s always open,” Czar said.
“You’re welcome to call me as well,” Blythe added, to Seychelle.
Seychelle kept her smile, but Savage could see it was an effort. He took her out the door to his bike, very aware that Czar stood in the doorway watching. He knew Czar was right to warn her. Seychelle saw things others didn’t. She had caught a glimpse of Shari Albright when he’d gone straight to her after he’d been with the woman, and Seychelle had been devastated. What if he took out an enemy and went straight home to her and she caught a brief sight of that? Worse, what if one of the others was with him? That would be a disaster.
“I’d like to take you back to our house, Seychelle.”
He kept his voice very matter-of-fact as he straddled the bike and put her hand on his shoulder, indicating for her to get on behind him. She did so without protesting, wrapping her arms tight around him, as if for comfort, and resting her head against his back. The Harley roared to life, and they were on their way back.
Savage went over everything in his mind. What he could offer her. What he was offering her. It wasn’t much on his side. She had every right to be feeling like she wanted out. He didn’t exactly get that feeling from her, more like she was sad. He knew he’d blown it. He should have just told her straight up what she wanted to know, but he was afraid of the questions she would ask. His mind shut down, and he refused to think anymore. He wouldn’t allow himself to know what was coming when they got to the house.