Page 4 of Dark Savior

“My sister is back home,” Carter said, looking at everyone. “She claims she needs a change in scenery, but I don’t believe it for a fuckin’ second. So keep an eye on her. Something is going on.”

“Rachel?” Orlando, the club treasurer, asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “Thought she was never returning.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “She’s here. She’s home.” I pointed my finger at him. “And keep your fucking dick away from her.” Orlando was a fuckboy through and through, but Rachel was off limits. I’d rip his dick off and shove it down his throat if he tried anything with her.

I’d always been protective of Rachel when she was younger but now? The moment I’d seen her yesterday, I knew I wanted to make her mine. The mere thought of Orlando even breathing in her direction made me murderous.

He grinned at me. “Still got my tongue and fingers, brother.”

A deep, threatening rumble sounded from within my chest. “You touch her, and whatever body part you touched her with, I’ll fucking cut off, you hear me?”

He barked out a laugh and nodded once. Carter arched a brow at me, but I just sipped at my coffee and pushed back from the table, not giving him the answers he wanted, especially when I was still trying to sort through what I wanted from Rachel myself. “We fucking done here?”

Carter nodded and slammed his gavel on the table. I stormed out of the room, fucking pissed now that Orlando had managed to rile me up. The idea of anyone touching Rachel had my blood pounding in my veins. Made me want to bash someone’s head against a table hard enough to break their skull.

Fuck.

I made my way outside, my cigarette pack in my hand. I flipped it open with my thumb and used my teeth to pull one out the pack.

“Need a light?”

I looked up, surprised to find Rachel sitting on the picnic table exactly where I’d seen her yesterday. She didn’t use to be a morning person. Wonder what changed that.

I made my way over and set my coffee mug down before grabbing the lighter she held out to me. After lighting up, I handed it back over and took a seat on the tabletop next to her.

“Why are you really home, Rachel?” I asked after we’d just been sitting there in silence for a little while.

She sighed and blew smoke out the corner of her lips. “It’s too early for your shit, Callan.”

I turned my head to look at her, flicking my ashes onto the ground. “I’m not your brother. Not your fuckin’ family. Your granddad is fucking missing, and you’re suddenly here at the same time. You’re not convincing me it’s just some coincidence.”

She scowled at me, anger flaring in her dark gaze. Seeing her so defensive and ready to fight should have agitated me. Did when it came to anyone else. But her? I just wanted her to fucking burn me with that rage.

“You’re ruining my buzz, Callan.”

I shrugged at her, hoping she couldn’t see how much she affected me. She was already wrapping me around her finger. That was dangerous—not that I cared to stop it. “Does it look like I give a fuck? Souls of Grim are in town. You’ve got something to do with that. Not stopping until I’ve got answers.”

Her expression nor her eyes gave a single thing away. I didn’t fucking like it.

She patted the Sergeant at Arms patch on my cut before getting down. “I’m not one of your little club members, babe. Watch how you fucking speak to me.”

She pinched the end of her blunt between her fingers, storming toward the clubhouse doors. Like fuck was she getting away from me. She was on the run, and I wanted to know why. Because the thought of someone hurting her had me fucking about to crawl out of my skin.

She didn’t know it yet, but she was mine. She became mine the moment I laid my eyes on her and those dark, sultry eyes met mine, filled with sensual promises of violence.

I wrapped my fingers around her wrist and spun her back around to face me. She crashed against my chest, her blunt falling from her fingertips as her hands slammed against my sternum. Locking a hand around her slender throat, I backed her up against the wall, enjoying the way her pulse thrummed beneath my pinkie finger. Knowing how deeply I affected her was intoxicating. Drugging.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re hiding, kitten, but sheathe your fucking claws, you hear me?” She swallowed thickly, her eyes locked on mine, wide and filled with a mix of lust, anger, and confusion. “I’m not the enemy here. I want to protect you. To do that, I need to know what’s going on.”

“I don’t need protection,” she hissed, tilting her chin in a defiant gesture that made my dick throb.

She struggled to swallow when I tightened my grip around her throat. But even when she was fighting me, she couldn’t deny the way her body went all pliant for me or the way her eyes went all hazy. I’d always thought there wasn’t a submissive bone in this woman’s body, but maybe the right man just hadn’t been taking control of her.

And fuck me with a goddamn brick, I couldn’t resist her when she was like this—trying so hard to be angry with me but really only soft and needy.

My lips met hers in a bruising kiss. She softly moaned and parted her sweet lips, letting me lick into her mouth. My cock pressed against my zipper when her tongue touched mine, and I pressed my body harder against hers, my free hand sliding down her body to trace her curves. She shivered, whining low into my mouth as I cupped her over her leggings.

“You haven’t even been home for twenty-four hours,” I growled, stroking my fingers over right where I knew her clit would be. She gasped, her fingers clutching at the leather of my cut. “But you’ve got a way of making me fucking crazy for you.”