“Yeah, Savage. She does it for me. I want a chance with her. I may make a mess of everything because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but I want that chance.”
Savage shrugged. “Then the rest of us will make certain you have it.”
That warmed him. Savage meant it. His brothers would surround him, take his back the way they always did. They’d help him find a way to keep her. He had Lana and Alena to help him. Anya was still with Reaper, and Steele had Breezy. If they could do it, he could.
“Things get dicey, I can always go to Blythe for help,” Ice said.
“Yeah, you might want to be careful there,” Savage advised. “She might not approve of getting a woman drunk, seducing her and marrying her, fucking her and then leaving her on your wedding night so you can go fuck up some bastards. She’s not going to understand you did all that with the best of intentions because you need the woman.”
“Shit, put like that, you got a point.” Ice couldn’t help his guilty grin.
“Blythe doesn’t understand what they turned us into. She looks at us the same way she does those kids of hers,” Savage observed. “She thinks we can be saved.”
“I love that about her,” Ice said.
Savage nodded. “I do too, but I’m just saying be careful.” He looked around the room, indicating their talk was over. “We’ve got work to do. We can start, and when Maestro vacates the shower, you go in and then clean up in there.”
Ice nodded. He wanted to get back to his woman and wake her up himself.
It took another two hours of hard work to clean up the mess and remove every bit of evidence that anyone had ever been in the warehouse. They had to burn their clothes as well as the bodies. Fortunately, the club they’d paid to “borrow” the space from had a nice deal going with one of the local crematoriums.
They were careful. They’d learned to pay attention to the smallest detail. Growing up, if one missed a detail, that meant death for them—or another child. They’d learned that the hard way. They’d spent their teenage years and early twenties as assassins for their country. They’d been considered expendable and had been given impossible assignments, but the training they’d been given as children, trying to survive in an environment of rape and torture, had stood them in good stead. They’d learned how to survive, and whenever possible, one of their brothers or sisters had taken their back.
It had been Czar who’d brought them together and given them hope. He’d been a child himself. He’d seen the dead and dying and knew hope was the only answer, that and banding together. They’d learned to trust one another implicitly—and they still did. They didn’t work so well independent of one another. Ice knew that they were somehow woven together, and that was what made them work. That sustained them. Apart, there was no way to survive.
Czar had brought them to Sea Haven to find his wife, Blythe, and they’d made the decision to settle in the nearby town of Caspar. They’d bought up a good deal of the properties and were slowly bringing the place back to life, but they didn’t fit in most places. They would never fit in what was considered normal civilization. They didn’t know or understand the bullshit rules of society.
Still, they had a great clubhouse and places to live. Their lives were better in some ways. Ice was certain his was going to be getting a whole lot better if he just got over this one last little hump. He had to get his woman on the back of his bike and get her to his home, where he could find a way to convince her to stay with him.NINESoleil had the most delicious, erotic dreams she could possibly imagine. She was used to having sexy dreams, but these were beyond the scope of her imagination, making her want to blush. She’d been woken up four times by the hottest man, with the most amazing body, blue eyes and three intriguing tattooed teardrops dripping down one side of his face. He knew exactly what he was doing with his hands, his mouth and that gorgeous cock of his.
She stretched, arms over her head, and her body protested. Sinfully. Deliciously. Achingly. All in a good way. She’d never felt that before waking. She wasn’t a morning person at all. She didn’t like getting up to face empty days. Most mornings she covered her head and tried to stay in bed as long as possible, but her body felt different. Everything felt different. So alive.
She pried her eyes open, just enough to look out. A window faced her, and it was definitely morning—or maybe afternoon. She’d practically lived her entire life in hotels, the most luxurious hotels around the world. This was not one of them. She blinked, trying to change what she was seeing into what she knew her reality to be.