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Savannah let out a sarcastic laugh and shook her head. “No invite for me? I’m hurt,” she deadpanned. “Guess it’s a good thing I left my ball gown in my other trash bag.”
“Trash bag? You’re traveling in suburban finery, canvas grocery bags are all the rage, I hear.”
That teased a laugh from Savannah, but she quickly clutched her abdomen, sighed and let out several slow breaths through clenched jaws. “You’re a funny guy, Charlie.”
“I get that a lot,” I told her with a straight face. “Grab what you need for the day and be ready to go in five minutes.”
“Whatever.” That one word conveyed so much exhaustion it made me even more curious about what she’d been through since she’d disappeared, but I didn’t have time to dig into it now. Later.
Fifteen minutes later, I pulled into the back of the Reckless Bastards clubhouse and led her into my room. A few of us had our own space when we needed to stay over to keep an eye on things.
When I was younger, Max willed me his man cave because he didn’t want the girls I hung around with at the house. I was entitled to it now because of my ranking in the club. I opened the door and ushered her inside.
“I’m gonna put you in here.”
Savannah eyed the room warily, noting the Reckless Bastards flag hanging on one wall, some old photos of the MC, and the big king-size bed in the middle of the room.
If it impressed her, she kept it to herself. “Whatever,” she said, walking past me to look around.
“I know you got a bigger vocabulary than that from those fancy schools Ronan sent you to.”
Her laugh was bitter as she examined each item. “Doesn’t matter what words I use, does it? This is where you’re putting me, so this is where I’m staying.”
I followed her into the room but kept a gentlemanly distance. “It’s to keep you safe. Just give me some time to work things out.”
“Sure.” She took a few more steps inside and dropped her bag on the floor.
“There’s a bathroom through that door and a few sandwiches in the fridge in the corner. You’ll be fine until I get back.”
“Will be or won’t, doesn’t matter does it?”
Before I could say another word, Savannah held up a hand. “Go to your wedding, Charlie. Don’t worry about me.”
I wanted to say more, to tell her that this really was for her own good, but she was in several types of pain and angry at the world. Nothing I said to her now would penetrate, so I nodded and took a step back. “I’ll be back later.”
“I’ll be here.”
Whatever she’d been through hadn’t been good, and I felt bad locking her in the room, but she couldn’t roam the city and stay safe. I was doing her a favor, whether she could see it or not.
An hour later I was dressed in my tux and standing inside Ashby Manor, waiting for Virgil so we could all pile into the limo and head to the church for the ceremony.
“How long does it take to put on a fucking clown suit?” Jasper growled. He shook his head as he paced inside the parlor, a drink in his hand.
Terry laughed. “It’s his wedding day, Jas. Chill.”
“It’s a fucking suit. How long does it take? And where the fuck is Cal? If he doesn’t show up soon, Sadie will have a shit fit.”
The man was wound so tight you’d think he was the one getting married.
“I’ll check on Cal because Maisie will be pissed if you pop a blood vessel before the wedding photos.” Terry said.
Emmett stood and walked out as quiet as a ninja. “I’ll see if I can hurry Virgil along.”
As soon as Terry and Emmett were gone from the room, I took advantage of Jasper’s distraction and the privacy.
“Found something interesting.”
Jasper turned to me, a surprised expression on his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not talking about you and the hot redhead, Jasper. It’s about a brunette that the whole world’s been looking for.” Maybe it was an exaggeration so say the whole world, but as far as we were both concerned that was true. “Savannah Rhymer.”
“No fucking way.”
“Yep. Found her outside a convenience store looking like warmed over garbage.” I left out the part about Tits because it seemed as if the woman had done Savannah a solid and there was no point getting her in trouble with Jasper. “Pretty sure she’s been whored out by someone in the area.”
“She say who?”
I laughed. “She hasn’t said much of anything yet. But she’s pretty fucked up. Bruised and dirty, maybe a couple broken ribs, and a tongue as sharp as a whip. She’s been chasing that dragon.”
I couldn’t imagine going from her luxurious life with Ronan to being pimped out against her will, but that was one of the many risks of being a woman in this business.
