Page 2 of Blade (Spartan Watchmen MC #5)

"Stop that," he said without looking at her.

Her hand froze. "Stop what?"

"Picking at my jacket. You're going to unravel the sleeve."

"Sorry," she mumbled, tucking her hands under her thighs.

Another mile passed in silence.

"Are you going to tell me what's going to happen to me?" she finally asked, her voice small.

"You're going to eat a proper meal, take a shower, and get some sleep," he replied. "Then tomorrow, we'll figure out the rest."

"That's it?"

"For now."

She turned to look out the window. "I don't understand why you're helping me."

Blade sighed. This woman had clearly been through hell. Trust wouldn't come easy.

"The club protects its own," he said simply.

"I'm not one of you."

"You were willing to risk your life rather than betray us," he countered. "Sounds like one of us to me."

She fell silent again, seemingly lost in thought. The road wound through the mountains, taking them further from town. The streetlights faded away, leaving only his headlights cutting through the darkness.

"They have photos," she said suddenly, her voice barely audible. "Of my dad."

Blade kept his eyes on the road. "What kind of photos?"

"He... he killed someone." Her voice cracked. "Years ago. He was protecting my mom, but he... he didn't call the police. Just buried the body on our property."

"And the Rejects found out?"

She nodded. "They said they'd send the photos to the police. Said they'd hurt my mom if I didn't help them."

"But you couldn't go through with it," he guessed.

"I tried," she admitted, shame coloring her voice. "But I couldn't... I couldn't do it. The girls were so nice to me. And then when I saw how the club treated them, how their Daddies protected them..."

She trailed off, her breathing becoming uneven.

"Take a deep breath," Blade instructed, reaching over to place a hand on her knee. "You're safe now."

She flinched at his touch but didn't pull away.

"They're going to kill them," she whispered. "My parents. When they find out I'm with you."

"No, they won't," Blade said with absolute certainty. "Because they won't find out. And even if they did, your parents are already under protection."

Her head snapped toward him. "What?"

"Irish sent some of our brothers to watch over them the minute we figured out what was happening. They're safe, Lily."

Tears welled in her eyes. "You're lying."

"I told you. I’m a man of my word. I don't lie."

A sob escaped her, and she covered her mouth with her hand. "Why would you do that? Why would you help them? Help me?"

"Because it's what we do," he replied simply. "And because you're mine to protect now."

Her eyes widened at that. "I'm not?—"

"For now, you are," he cut her off. They’d talk about it later. She was his a month ago when they’d spent two hours building with LEGO bricks and eating snacks. He knew it. He was sure she felt it, too. "You need a safe place. Food. Rest. And I'm providing it. That makes you my responsibility."

She opened her mouth as if to argue further, then closed it again. Good. She was learning.

He turned onto a narrow dirt road, barely visible among the trees.

The truck bumped along for another half mile before a cabin came into view.

It was larger than it appeared at first glance, built of solid logs with a wide porch wrapping around the front.

His property line backed onto Valhalla. They were grateful to have an ally living next door.

It also meant they were safe. The only way to his house was either through Valhalla or the road they just drove down.

A road with multiple cameras and motion sensors.

Blade pulled up to the cabin and cut the engine. "We're here."

Lily peered through the windshield. "This is your place?"

"Home sweet home," he drawled. "Isolated. Defensible. And no one outside the inner circle knows about it."

He got out and came around to her side, opening the door for her. She hesitated, then slid out, wincing as her feet hit the ground.

"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing her discomfort.

"Nothing," she said quickly. Too quickly.

He crouched down, tugging up her jean leg before she could protest. Her ankle was swollen, angry red lines crisscrossing the skin.

"What the fuck happened?" he demanded.

She tried to pull away. "It's nothing. I fell."

"Bullshit. Don’t lie to me, little girl."

Their eyes locked, another battle of wills. This time, he wasn't backing down.

"Fine," she huffed. "I tried to run when they first caught me. One of them... one of them used a wire to tie me up. It got infected. It's healing now."

Rage, white-hot and blinding, surged through him. Someone had bound this woman with wire, tight enough to cut into her flesh, then left it to fester.

"Who?" he asked, his voice deadly quiet.

She shook her head. "Doesn't matter."

"It matters to me," he growled.

She shivered but she lifted her chin defiantly. "Why? So you can add it to your list of reasons to pity me? No thanks."

He stood slowly, towering over her once more. "I don't pity you, Lily. Respect, yes. Pity, no."

That seemed to throw her. She blinked up at him, confusion written across her features.

"Come on," he said, softening his tone slightly. "Let's get you inside. I need to look at that ankle."

Without warning, he bent and scooped her into his arms.

"Put me down!" she squeaked, wriggling in his hold.

"Be still," he commanded. "Or you'll find out exactly how I deal with disobedience."

She froze at that, her eyes growing wide. "You wouldn't."

"I would," he assured her, carrying her up the porch steps. "Push me, and you'll find yourself over my knee faster than you can blink."

A flush crept up her neck, spreading to her cheeks.

"You can't do that," she protested weakly. "You're not my... you're not..."

"Your Daddy?" he finished for her, watching her reaction carefully.

The blush deepened, and she looked away. "That's not what I was going to say."

“Sure it wasn't," he smirked, shifting her weight to one arm as he unlocked the door. "First of all, for the record, little girl, I'm whatever you need me to be while you're under my protection. Including that."

He pushed the door open and carried her inside, kicking it shut behind them.

“Second, I don’t tolerate lying. I won’t lie to you and you won’t lie to me.

If I catch you lying, there will be swift consequences.

” The cabin was sparsely furnished, but clean.

A large leather couch faced a stone fireplace.

The kitchen was off to the right, separated from the living area by a breakfast bar. A hallway led to the bedrooms.

He set her down gently on the couch. "Stay put. I'm going to get the first aid kit."

She nodded, looking small and lost in his oversized jacket.

When he returned with the kit, she'd pulled her knees up to her chest, her eyes taking in every detail of the room. Assessing. Calculating. Looking for exits.

"Planning your escape already?" he asked dryly, kneeling in front of her.

Her gaze snapped to his. "Force of habit."

"Well, break it," he said firmly. "You're not going anywhere."

He lifted her injured ankle into his lap, carefully rolling up her jean leg again. The swelling was worse than he'd initially thought. The infection had spread, angry red streaks climbing up her calf.

"This needs antibiotics," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "When did this happen?"

"About a week ago," she admitted. "I put some Neosporin on it that I got from a gas station, but..."

"But you need actual medical care," he finished for her. "I'll have Doc come by tomorrow."

She tensed. "No doctors."

"Doc's one of ours," he explained. "He's discreet. And he won't report this."

She didn't look convinced.

"Let me be very clear about something," Blade said, meeting her eyes. "While you're here, you follow my rules. All of them. And rule number one is taking care of yourself. That means eating when I tell you to eat, sleeping when I tell you to sleep, and letting Doc look at this ankle. Got it?"

She glared at him. "And if I don't?"

A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. "Then you'll be sitting on a very sore ass. Your choice, little girl."

Something about her brought out the Daddy in him. Maybe it was her size—she was tiny compared to him. Maybe it was the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide.

"Stop calling me that," she muttered.

"What? Little girl?" He raised an eyebrow. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"Yes," she said too quickly.

He began cleaning her ankle with antiseptic wipes, gentle despite his firm tone. "Your pulse jumps every time I say it. Your pupils dilate. You might not like that you like it, but you do."

She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "I don't... that's not..."

"Save your breath," he cut her off. "I can read you like a book, Lily. You're not as mysterious as you think."

He finished cleaning the wound and applied antibiotic ointment, then wrapped her ankle in a clean bandage. His hands were surprisingly gentle for their size.

"There," he said, rolling her jean leg back down. "That should help until Doc can take a look."

"Thank you," she said softly.

He nodded once, then stood. "Hungry?"

As if on cue, her stomach growled loudly. She pressed a hand against it, embarrassed.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching. "I'm not much of a cook, but I can manage soup and grilled cheese."

"You don't have to?—"

"Rule number one," he reminded her. "Taking care of yourself."

She sighed. "Fine."

He moved to the kitchen and began pulling items from the refrigerator. "You're going to eat, then shower, then sleep. Tomorrow we'll talk about the rest of the rules."

"There are more?" she asked incredulously.

"Oh, little girl," he chuckled darkly. "We're just getting started."

"Why you?" she asked.

He glanced over his shoulder. "What?"

"Why did they send you to get me? Why not Savage or Irish? Or Lucky himself?"

Blade turned back to the stove, where he was heating up soup. "Because I'm the enforcer."

"And?"

"And the enforcer handles problems," he said matter-of-factly.

She flinched at that. "So I'm a problem."

He sighed, setting down the spoon and turning to face her fully. "No, Lily. You're not a problem. You're a responsibility. My responsibility now."

"I didn't ask for this," she said, her voice small.

“I did. You are mine, Lily. I’ve known it since the first play date we had together.

I’ve bided my time. I’ve been patient. But, when I found out you were in danger…

the gloves came off. I wasn’t going to let you run from me.

Hide. Put yourself in danger. I told the club I was coming to get you and I would keep you safe. And now, here we are."

Their eyes met across the room, an unspoken understanding passing between them. "Here we are," she echoed softly.

He nodded once, then turned back to making their meal. That was one less thing he had to tell her. Oh, but he remembered, there was something else Lily didn't know.

Blade had her stuffed rabbit. And he planned to give it back to her tonight, once she was clean and fed and tucked safely into his bed.

Where she belonged.