He detested that they were out of sync. He dropped one gloved hand to her calf as they made their way down the highway toward their destination. His brothers rode close, but this time, Blythe was staying home. Czar made the excuse that two of the children were sick. She wasn’t the only wife not going. Most weren’t making the run. Savage knew, even though she hadn’t yet commented, that Seychelle had noticed the lack of women riding with their men. Her gaze slid over the bikes at every stop and then went up to his face.
Only Scarlet, Absinthe’s wife, and Lissa, Casimir’s wife, were along, and that was because both were worth their weight in gold when it came to fighting. Czar had made the decision to have the rest of the women stay home. He was concerned that whatever they were walking into might be too dangerous. More and more, Savage wished he’d left Seychelle home, in spite of his need of her and Czar’s insistence that she come along. He knew the club needed him, and he would need Seychelle, but this one time, maybe he should have tried toughing it out.
Where Savage went, Seychelle went, especially in this particular shit show. He detested that he was putting her in such a dangerous position. Worse, she was hurting. Not the physical pain she was enduring; he would get off on that. He’d hurt her feelings last night. He wasn’t certain just how, but he knew he had. He didn’t like that at all. And she knew something was very wrong just by the lack of other wives going on the run. He played with the idea of turning back. Taking her home.
His woman wasn’t oblivious. She’d heard about how “fun” the runs could be. Even though they’d said this one might be dangerous, they’d also told her it would be fun. Just the fact that Ice hadn’t brought Soleil or Reaper, Anya, meant something. She was already upset with him, and the lack of other women wasn’t helping his cause.
He reached for her hand and brought it to his thigh, pressing it deep into his muscle, half expecting her to pull away from him. She didn’t. She pressed the hand at his abdomen tighter into him and left her other hand trapped between his thigh and palm. He realized she needed comfort. He didn’t feel anger coming from her. He would know. More than anything, he felt that well of sadness in her. He’d much prefer the anger.
She didn’t ask him to stop, even when she grew physically uncomfortable. She didn’t try to communicate. Not once. Maestro called for a halt two hours later, and Savage knew he’d done it for Seychelle. She was so damn stubborn she wasn’t about to ask for any special favors, no matter how tough the ride was on her. Maestro had noticed she was walking slow when she made her way to the restroom, and he took pity on her.
“That is one tough woman,” Maestro said, glancing toward the restrooms.
The women’s rooms were only about twenty feet away from the main parking area, but Savage was uneasy with her out of his sight. He should have gone in with her, but she’d objected to him invading her privacy in the bathroom and held out her hand for the bottle of lotion. That shouldn’t matter to him, not when her safety was an issue. The others were pulling into the parking lot, but he didn’t like giving her any space at all—so why was he?
Because he didn’t want to face the fact that she knew things weren’t right and he couldn’t answer questions once again. He needed time to think. They were close to their destination now, and if he was going to take her home, he would have to turn around now.
“Yeah, she is,” he agreed.
“Czar briefed us on the Brandon Campbell–Ravard connection she put together and the possibility that Campbell is behind the hit on you. You think she’s right?” Maestro tipped his head back, studying Savage’s face through his shades.
Savage nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think it’s possible she’s onto something. I think it’s entirely possible Campbell’s been trying to start a war between the Diamondbacks and the Venomous club, and along come Seychelle and Torpedo Ink. She’s totally on his radar now. Her talent is huge, and he knows it. I’m in his way because he knows I’m her protection. He has to remove me. Torpedo Ink is a small club. He isn’t looking at it like we’re a threat as a club yet. Only me. If he’s been working on the Venomous club for a while, all he’s thinking about is removing any obstacles in his path and building his power base.”
“And this shit with Alena?”
“I think that Plank is trying to get something to blackmail our club with.” Savage shrugged. “I could be wrong, but he’s nervous, and the club president shouldn’t be showing his nerves to his club. Two separate things are going on.”