Page 3 of Blade (Spartan Watchmen MC #5)

Then it all came rushing back. Blade. The Spartan Watchmen enforcer had found her. Had brought her to his cabin.

He'd been in here while I slept.

The thought should have terrified her. Instead, it sent a confusing mix of emotions swirling through her.

Relief. She didn’t know why, but she trusted the large, overbearing motorcycle club officer.

He’d been kind to her at The Citadel. In fact, she’d decided he would have been her mark had she gone through with her end of the blackmail scheme.

She couldn’t go through with it. Turns out, she didn’t have the courage to infiltrate a motorcycle club.

Even if all of its members were military veterans.

She knew they would do anything, even break the law and commit murder, to protect theirs.

Although, they did live by a moral code.

They only hurt others when they had absolutely no other choice in the matter.

She’d spent four months in the area, working retail at a local boutique while attending all the Little’s Playdates at The Citadel.

When they’d told her that Savannah was coming and had the same job as her, Lily felt relief.

Maybe Savannah could do what Lily couldn’t.

And, once Savannah succeeded, Lily would be free, too.

She’d do anything to help Savannah accomplish her mission.

She didn’t have to do much. Savannah caught the eye of Savage pretty quickly.

Lily on the other hand… hadn’t felt like any of the men were into her that way.

Sure, Blade had built LEGOS with her and made her a snack plate.

But she didn’t get the feeling he’d wanted her.

Turns out, she was wrong. If their conversation last night had any merit to it.

Blade was moving slowly, giving her space and respect.

She didn’t know what to think about him.

He was handsome, and not nearly as scary as some of the other men in the Spartan Watchmen.

He still kept himself clean cut, his military background obvious in his haircut.

Last night, he’d respected her when she fought back sleeping in his bed and allowed her to sleep in his guest room next door instead.

After almost falling asleep at the dinner table, he’d spoken words that sent goosebumps up her spine.

Tonight you may shower alone, little girl. Get some sleep. Tomorrow everything changes.

She glanced around the room. It was sparsely furnished but comfortable. A queen-sized bed, a dresser, a nightstand. A door she assumed led to a bathroom. Nothing personal. No photos, no clutter. It could have been a hotel room.

Except for one thing.

Mr. Flopsy sat propped against the pillows beside her.

Her breath caught in her throat as she reached for the stuffed rabbit. She'd thought she'd left him behind at the motel, and the realization had brought tears to her eyes last night as Blade had ushered her into this room after her shower.

But here he was. One ear half-gone, fur matted with age. Her oldest friend.

Blade must have found him. Must have brought him along.

Why would he do that?

A gentle knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

"You awake in there, baby girl?" Blade's deep voice called.

Baby girl. The nickname that shouldn't have affected her the way it did. That shouldn't have sent warmth spreading through her belly.

"Y-yes," she managed to reply, quickly shoving Mr. Flopsy under the covers. No way was she letting Blade see her clutching a stuffed animal like some actual child. Her gut said he wouldn’t mind…

but her mind… logic and emotion warred with each other, as it always did, when she forced her little side deep down.

The door opened, and he filled the frame. He wore dark jeans and a black henley that stretched tight across his broad shoulders. His dark hair was slightly damp, as if he'd just showered.

"Morning," he said, his eyes scanning her face. "Sleep okay?"

She nodded, pulling the covers higher, suddenly aware that she was wearing only the oversized t-shirt he'd given her to sleep in. Her own clothes had been whisked away for washing before she could protest.

"Take the antibiotics," he said, nodding toward the nightstand. "Doc will be here in an hour to check your ankle." She wondered briefly where he’d randomly gotten a bottle of prescription antibiotics without seeing a doctor and then decided she didn’t want to know.

"I told you I don't need?—"

"Not up for discussion." His tone was firm, brooking no argument. "Either Doc checks it, or I take you to the hospital. Your choice. I’d prefer not to take you anywhere where your name will be on record right now. We don’t know who we can trust or how deep the connections are."

Lily glared at him, then snatched up the pills and the water. She swallowed them with an exaggerated gulp.

"Happy?" she asked, setting the glass down with more force than necessary.

A hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth. "Thrilled."

God, he was infuriating. Acting like he had some right to dictate her life. Like he owned her or something.

But isn't that what you want? a traitorous voice whispered in the back of her mind. Someone to take control? Someone to take care of you?

She pushed the thought away. That was exactly why she couldn't let herself fall into that headspace here. Not with him. Not when she was trapped and vulnerable and desperate.

"Breakfast is ready when you are," he said, still watching her carefully. "Think you can make it to the kitchen, or do you need help?"

"I can walk," she said, jutting her chin out defiantly.

"Suit yourself." He turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and Lily?"

"What?"

He met her eyes, his gaze intense. "I see you're keeping Mr. Flopsy hidden. No need for that. Not here."

Heat rushed to her cheeks. How did he know the rabbit's name? She hadn't told him.

As if reading her mind, he added, "It's stitched on his foot. Faded, but still readable."

Of course. Her mother had sewn the name tag when Lily was five, worried she might lose him at kindergarten.

"Also," Blade continued, "we need to talk about rules after breakfast. I meant what I said last night."

With that, he left, closing the door behind him.

Lily flopped back against the pillows with a groan. Rules. Great. Just what she needed. More restrictions. More control exerted over her life by people who thought they knew what was best for her.

First her parents with their suffocating expectations. Then Greg—her ex-fiancé—with his demands that she be someone she wasn't. Then Pedro's Rejects with their threats and violence.

And now Blade.

She should be furious. Should be plotting her escape.

Instead, a small part of her, the part she'd tried to bury for years, felt something dangerously close to relief.

With a sigh, she threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her ankle throbbed, but it was better than yesterday. The bandage Blade had applied was still secure.

She stood carefully, testing her weight. It hurt, but she could walk. She limped to the bathroom and found Blade had been in there, too. He’d laid out a brand-new toothbrush, toothpaste, and hairbrush on the counter beside a clean towel.

He'd thought of everything.

After using the facilities and making herself as presentable as possible in a borrowed t-shirt, Lily steeled herself to face her captor. Protector. Whatever he was.

The smell of coffee and bacon guided her to the kitchen. Blade stood at the stove, his back to her, flipping something in a pan. Pancakes, by the smell of it.

"Sit," he said without turning around. He'd heard her approach despite her attempt to move quietly.

Lily slid onto a stool at the breakfast bar, watching him warily. His movements were precise and efficient, nothing wasted. Everything about him spoke of discipline and control.

He set a mug of coffee in front of her. "Cream and sugar's on the table if you want it."

"Thank you," she murmured, wrapping her hands around the warm mug.

A few minutes later, he slid a plate in front of her. Pancakes, bacon, and sliced fruit. Far more food than she'd eaten in one sitting for weeks. She’d managed a few bites of her spaghetti last night before exhaustion overtook and he took pity on her.

Her stomach growled loudly. Traitor.

Blade sat across from her with his own plate, watching as she tentatively picked up her fork.

"It's not poisoned," he said dryly.

"I know that," she snapped, then immediately regretted it. Antagonizing the man feeding her probably wasn't the smartest move.

But instead of anger, amusement flashed in his eyes. "Good to see you've still got some fight in you."

She didn't know how to respond to that, so she took a bite of pancake instead. It was delicious. Fluffy and perfectly cooked, with just the right amount of sweetness.

"You said you couldn't cook," she accused after swallowing.

He shrugged. "I said I wasn't much of a cook. Never claimed I couldn't manage pancakes."

“I could eat pancakes for every meal,” she replied.

“I’m sure you could, baby girl. But, you need more nutrition than that.”

They ate in silence for a while. Lily was hungrier than she'd realized, and before she knew it, her plate was empty. She'd devoured everything.

"Want more?" Blade asked.

She shook her head, suddenly embarrassed by her appetite. "No, thank you. It was good."

He nodded, then stood to clear their plates. "Now, about those rules."

Lily tensed. Here it came.

"While you're under my roof, you'll follow my rules," he began, leaning against the counter. "They're non-negotiable, and disobedience has consequences. Understand?"

She wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him he had no right to impose rules on her. But what choice did she have? She was injured, hunted, with nowhere else to go.

"I understand," she said quietly.

"Rule one, as I mentioned last night: You take care of yourself. That means eating regularly, sleeping enough, and following medical advice."