Page 27
Story: The Outlaw's Savage Revenge
Since he’s overstepped his boundaries, I might as well let him have all the gory details. “Well. Kat is right. I might even be getting arrested when I return from Moscow.”
“Are you fucking serious?” His voice rises.
“It’s just for appearances.”
“And you’re just a bastard! What do you think that does for me?” The raw emotion in his voice hits harder than any physical blow. Everything I do affects him—every choice, every mistake, every deviation from the plan.
He’s right to be pissed that I blew the plan apart. Part of me is kicking myself too. The other demented half was on the verge of following Luna home and dragging her out of that house.
“Calm the fuck down, Scar. Cade Quinn isn’t getting a criminal record. Rocky Savage is. And even that, I’m sure Hawkins can get wiped clean.”
I see him visibly relax, and a smirk tugs at my mouth. I can’t stand when Scar is upset. It’s like seeing my own son sulking—if sons were created through violence and necessity rather than blood.
“Now, can we go back to you trusting me and staying in the dark?”
“Why did you do it?” he asks, and there’s something vulnerable in the question.
And this is the part where I don’t answer. “It’s personal.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
I chuckle. A fair question, really. It’s hard not to see personal boundaries as arbitrary when you bear a man’s name, live in his house, and have unlimited use of his assets.
“It means it’s none of your business, Scar.”
He steps closer, his presence vibrating with intensity. “You took the Romano chick right?”
Fuck.Kat has fallen harder than I thought if she’s wilfully parroting information to Scar. “Possibly.”
“Wow.” His brow flies to his hairline, and he muses almost to himself. “I had no idea she rolled like that.”
Another thing Scar and I have in common is our preference for paid sex.
“She doesn’trolllike that,“ I grit out.
“Doesn’t she? Anyway, where is she now?”
“Obviously not here.” My tone warns him to drop it, but Scar’s never been good at backing down.
His eyes narrow. “What the hell kind of game are you playing here, Pretty? If you’re not fucking her, then what are you doing? Reading her an apology letter in advance?”
Still, I say nothing.
What can I say? That was considering throwing away months of careful planning for another dose of that sweet poison?
“Fine!” He huffs hold on to your secrets. Can you at least explain why you weren’t at the hangar at dawn?”
Good question. I was supposed to head to the hangar at dawn and leave Luna here to find her own way out when she woke up.
I meet his gaze, jaw tight, knowing he’s going to hate this. There’s nothing he hates more than being lied to. “I got some impromptu orders about a new lead, and I had to provide intel.”
Scar searches my gaze and apparently finding what he needs, relents.
“How’s Kat?” I ask, hoping to distract him.
He shrugs, trying to play it off, but he knows I’m reading him like a book.
“How the fuck should I know?”
“Are you fucking serious?” His voice rises.
“It’s just for appearances.”
“And you’re just a bastard! What do you think that does for me?” The raw emotion in his voice hits harder than any physical blow. Everything I do affects him—every choice, every mistake, every deviation from the plan.
He’s right to be pissed that I blew the plan apart. Part of me is kicking myself too. The other demented half was on the verge of following Luna home and dragging her out of that house.
“Calm the fuck down, Scar. Cade Quinn isn’t getting a criminal record. Rocky Savage is. And even that, I’m sure Hawkins can get wiped clean.”
I see him visibly relax, and a smirk tugs at my mouth. I can’t stand when Scar is upset. It’s like seeing my own son sulking—if sons were created through violence and necessity rather than blood.
“Now, can we go back to you trusting me and staying in the dark?”
“Why did you do it?” he asks, and there’s something vulnerable in the question.
And this is the part where I don’t answer. “It’s personal.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
I chuckle. A fair question, really. It’s hard not to see personal boundaries as arbitrary when you bear a man’s name, live in his house, and have unlimited use of his assets.
“It means it’s none of your business, Scar.”
He steps closer, his presence vibrating with intensity. “You took the Romano chick right?”
Fuck.Kat has fallen harder than I thought if she’s wilfully parroting information to Scar. “Possibly.”
“Wow.” His brow flies to his hairline, and he muses almost to himself. “I had no idea she rolled like that.”
Another thing Scar and I have in common is our preference for paid sex.
“She doesn’trolllike that,“ I grit out.
“Doesn’t she? Anyway, where is she now?”
“Obviously not here.” My tone warns him to drop it, but Scar’s never been good at backing down.
His eyes narrow. “What the hell kind of game are you playing here, Pretty? If you’re not fucking her, then what are you doing? Reading her an apology letter in advance?”
Still, I say nothing.
What can I say? That was considering throwing away months of careful planning for another dose of that sweet poison?
“Fine!” He huffs hold on to your secrets. Can you at least explain why you weren’t at the hangar at dawn?”
Good question. I was supposed to head to the hangar at dawn and leave Luna here to find her own way out when she woke up.
I meet his gaze, jaw tight, knowing he’s going to hate this. There’s nothing he hates more than being lied to. “I got some impromptu orders about a new lead, and I had to provide intel.”
Scar searches my gaze and apparently finding what he needs, relents.
“How’s Kat?” I ask, hoping to distract him.
He shrugs, trying to play it off, but he knows I’m reading him like a book.
“How the fuck should I know?”
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