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Seriously? That’s what he got from this scenario? “Think again, idiot. One of your cars just exploded out front, or didn’t you notice?”

My heart raced while I explained about his visitors. “They were wearing Black Jacks’ patches, Charlie. They must know I’m here and that was a message for you. It has to be.”

It was the only thing that made sense.

Charlie’s big, warm hands fell gently on my shoulders, and I didn’t flinch at his touch.

“They have no way of knowing what happened to you, Savannah. As far as they know, you’re dead or your old man is hiding you somewhere. Unless Tits said something, which I doubt ‘cause she’d be dead if she did.”

“How would you know if she’s dead?”

“This is my life, dealing with the fucking Jacks and their petty bullshit. They want Reckless Bastards territory, and they aren’t above everyday terrorism to make it happen.”

Everyday terrorism. It was exactly the perfect way to describe what had just happened. It was traumatizing, but not even as much as the past six months of my life. But it also made all the pieces of the puzzle click together. Why Charlie was being so nice and accommodating, and why he wouldn’t just put me on a bus like I requested.

“That’s why you’ve been helping me, so I can end up as some fucking bargaining chip in your war with them.” I shook my head in disbelief that I didn’t see it sooner and that he was such an accomplished liar.

“Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. I’m out of here.” I turned away from Charlie and marched back up the steps and to the guest room, to my bag of shit.

He reached out and grabbed my arm just before I made it safely to the door of the room, spinning me to face him while he growled at me. He held my chin in his grip, so close I could smell the whiskey on his breath. I wasn’t sure if I should be disgusted or turned on. He brought out all kinds of feels.

“You were beat all to shit, strung out, and starving. I helped you because I’m a nice fucking guy. Even though my club wants to kick your ass to the curb or hand you back to the Black Jacks.”

“Bullshit,” I spat and yanked out of his grasp. “You helped me for your own reasons, and I don’t need your damn pity, biker boy. I need some cash and a ride to the quickest way out of here, and then I’ll be out of your hair and out of your life. For good.”

He flashed a smile that was both boyish and wolfish; it was sexy and charming with a hint of darkness and, dammit; I found it sexy as fuck. He stood there like a man who knew his power and was comfortable with it, and I hated that it got to me and made my heart speed up and my body respond to his innate masculinity.

“How about you let me fatten you up a little bit, and then I’ll take you to the bus station? Deal?”

I stared at his hand, certain it was fire meant to scorch my skin until it bubbled and peeled, and then I looked back up at the man with the beautiful smile. “What’s the time frame on this deal?”

“That depends on how often you eat and gain weight.”

It was a trap; I knew it. I felt it down to my bones. “That’s not an answer.”

Charlie growled, “It’s the only answer you’re getting at the moment. Take it or leave it.”

I put my hand in his, knowing I was stuck here. I was at Charlie’s mercy until he decided I was no longer useful and let me go. His hand was big and warm, and his touch sent electricity shooting through my body, hot and bothersome. I pretended as if I didn’t feel a damn thing and rolled my eyes. “Fine, we have a deal. I guess.”

“Good girl. Now I guess we have a fire to put out.”

“We?”

He nodded and pushed open the door to my room. “Yeah, you need some exercise and putting out the fire is a good start. How else are we gonna fatten you up?” He wore a playful expression that I hated because it made me smile back at him.

“Food. Clearly the answer is food.”

“Food is for after the hard work. Come on, Princess. A deal’s a deal.”

“Whatever,” I grumbled and grabbed the white and pink sneakers his mom had dropped off for me on Monday.

Charlie just laughed and walked away, like I was just some amusing little joke.

I was starting to like him and his playful smile, which meant I needed to get out of here before something terrible happened, like me getting attached to the hot biker.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Charlie

It was a perfect afternoon for a long ride on a longer road, smooth and straight and curved in all the right places. Like the perfect woman. But as MC Prez, I wasn’t headed for a long drive to clear my head and enjoy the desolate desert view. Nope. I was headed to Glitz, to Midnight Mass to have an overdue chat with Jasper Ashby.

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