Page 56 of Wade’s Wrath

“That isn't good enough,” Harlow breathed.

“It's what we've got,” Butcher said. She turned away, and Wade rubbed a hand over his beard. He understood because if somebody he cared about was trapped inside that warehouse, he'd already be halfway there. But charging through the front door could get everyone killed—including Sarah.

Ripper looked at Butcher. “We can get eyes on the property tonight.”

Butcher nodded. “You’re just there to observe. No engagement.”

“Got it,” Ripper said.

“I want everyone who goes near that place armed,” Butcher said.

“Obviously,” Ripper said.

Harlow turned around. “I'm coming.”

Three men answered at once. “No.” She stared at them and Wade almost laughed. He knew that it was the wrong time for an outburst just by looking at her. It was definitely the wrong fucking time.

“You said I get to make my own choices,” Harlow insisted.

Wade groaned. “Jesus Christ. Not when the choice is fucking stupid.”

Her eyes narrowed. “So I get to choose as long as you agree with me?” Fuck. She was good.

Butcher looked suspiciously entertained, and Wade pointed at him. “Don't say a fucking word.”

“Didn't say anything,” Butcher insisted.

Harlow crossed her arms over her chest. “I'm coming.”

“No,” Wade breathed again.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because if Frank's people see you, they know we're onto them,” he said. “They’re all looking for you.”

“They already know I'm with you,” she reminded.

“They don't know what you told us, though,” Wade said. That made her pause, and Wade pressed the advantage. “Right now, they think you're a runaway bride hiding with a biker.”

“She’s hiding with a Savage Bastard,” Ripper corrected.

Wade looked at him. “Not helping.” Ripper shrugged, and Wade turned back to Harlow. “If they find out you saw those files, everything changes.”

Her anger faded. “They don't know?”

“Frank might suspect,” Butcher said, stepping closer. “But if he knew for sure, I don't think he would've walked away from the bar last night.”

Harlow paled. “Why not?”

Wade wished Butcher hadn't said it. “Harlow.”

“No. Why wouldn’t he have walked away from the bar last night?” she asked.

Butcher answered. “Because if Frank knew you had information that could bury whatever operation he's running, he wouldn't be trying to bring you home.” Cold moved through Wade. “He'd be trying to shut you up.”

Harlow went completely still, and Wade stepped in front of her. “Look at me.” She didn't. “Harlow.” Her eyes finally lifted, and all he saw was fear—pure fucking fear. Wade hated it. “Nothing's happening to you.”

“You can't promise that,” she whispered.