Page 5 of Blade (Spartan Watchmen MC #5)

T he cats moved between his legs, purring as Blade spoke with Savage.

He bent down to rub Macaroni between his ears.

Damn things had shown up during a storm one night, several years ago, and never left.

He’d taken them into Grand Ridge, to Mad Dog’s girl’s vet clinic.

After they were up to date on their vaccines and microchipped, he’d spoiled them rotten.

They were allowed in his house whenever they wanted, and they’d come in and out of the cat door he’d installed at will.

He never thought he’d be a cat owner. Kayla, Mad Dog’s fiancé, laughed and told him that was how the Cat Distribution System worked.

These two orange knuckleheads had wormed their way into his heart.

Mac and Cheese. That’s what he’d named them.

Macaroni was the thicker one, and he swore they didn’t share a single brain cell between the two of them.

As he listened to the update with Savage, he was glad for the fur missiles rubbing on his legs.

Their purring had a weird effect on him, almost working as an anxiety medication.

Blade ended the call with Savage, his grip tightening on the phone until his knuckles turned white.

Just when he thought things couldn't get more fucked up. Zeb and most of his crew had made bail. They were out, free until trial. If they showed up. He knew they’d try to clean up their messes here and then leave the country.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, shoving the phone into his pocket.

He took a deep breath, trying to get his rage under control before going back inside.

Lily didn't need to see him like this, seething, murderous, ready to tear someone apart with his bare hands.

She was already skittish enough. Already afraid.

The last thing he needed was to give her another reason to fear him.

Through the window, he could see her on the couch where he'd left her, a blanket pulled up to her chin, watching him with those big, wary eyes. Their gazes connected, and he gave her a reassuring nod before turning away.

Get your shit together, man.

The new information from Savage was troubling, to say the least. Tim, the bartender at Razor's Edge and brother to the leader of Pedro's Rejects, had gone missing. His apartment had been ransacked; blood spattered on the walls. No body yet, but it didn't look good.

And the last person Tim was seen talking to? Lily Hart.

Blade didn't believe for a second that she had anything to do with Tim's disappearance. But the timing was suspicious enough that he knew he needed to get her side of the story.

He just hoped to hell she'd be honest with him.

Taking another deep breath, he schooled his features into something less murderous and went back inside.

Lily was exactly where he'd left her, but she'd sat up straighter, tension radiating from her small frame.

"Bad news?" she asked, her voice small.

He nodded, dropping into the armchair across from her. "You could say that."

"They found me," she guessed, her face paling. Just then, Macaroni and Cheese decided to jump up on the couch and introduce themselves.

“You have… cats?” She asked him.

“More like the fuckers have me,” he said with a small smile.

“I love cats!” Thank God. He’d hate to hear she was allergic or some shit.

“They aren’t exactly the pick them up and cuddle them type,” he warned her. “They’ll come to you when they want attention. Otherwise, they do their own thing.”

She looked at him like he had three heads as both Macaroni and Cheese curled up against her. “Are you sure about that?”

“Definitely. Glad they like you, baby.” He watched as the cats loved on her. “To answer your question, no. They haven’t found you. You're safe here."

Some of the tension left her shoulders, but her eyes remained wary. Smart girl. She knew there was more.

"Lily," he began, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "I need to ask you about Tim."

The change was immediate. Her entire body went rigid, her eyes widening with genuine fear.

"Tim?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

"The bartender at The Citadel," Blade clarified, watching her reaction carefully. "Brother to the leader of Pedro's Rejects."

She swallowed hard. "I know who he is."

"When's the last time you saw him?"

She looked down at her hands, which were twisting nervously in her lap. "The night I ran. Two weeks ago."

"Tell me what happened," Blade said, keeping his voice even despite his growing concern. Her reaction wasn't that of someone with nothing to hide.

"He..." She hesitated, then seemed to steel herself. "He helped me escape."

That wasn't what Blade had expected. "Escape? From his own brother's MC?"

She nodded, still not meeting his eyes. "Tim isn't like the rest of them. He never wanted to be part of the Rejects. He just tends bar at The Citadel because they make him. I don’t think he is loyal to them. He… he has his own secrets."

Blade processed this. It fit with what they knew about Tim.

With help from Dax, a local police detective, and Jay the owner of The Citadel, they’d poured over a year’s worth of video surveillance.

When Tim met with The Rejects, there was almost a reluctance, a hesitance.

His face and body language hadn’t screamed, willing participant .

"So he helped you get away," Blade prompted. "How?"

"They locked me in a room at their compound after I... after I failed to get information from your club. Once Savage took Savannah under protection and they couldn’t get to her, they snatched me.

They were worried I knew too much and would talk," she explained.

"Tim snuck me out through a back exit, gave me his car keys and some cash. "

"Why would he do that? Risk his life for someone he barely knew?"

At this, Lily finally looked up, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Because I reminded him of his daughter."

Blade frowned. "Tim doesn't have a daughter."

"Yes, he does," Lily insisted. "Her name is Emma. She's six. Lives with her mom in Denver. He's not allowed to see her because of his ties to the Rejects. She’s his brother’s way of controlling him."

Christ. If that was true, it changed things. "Go on."

"Tim came to bring me food that night. Found me... hurt." She swallowed hard. "He looked at the wire burns on my ankles, and something in him just snapped. Said no one deserved to be treated that way, especially not someone's little girl."

Blade felt a surge of fury at the reminder of her injuries, but kept his expression neutral. "So he helped you escape. Then what?"

"I drove to that motel," she said. "It was the only place I could think of that might not require ID. I paid cash, kept to myself. But I was afraid to leave, afraid they'd find me if I tried to run further."

"And you haven't seen or heard from Tim since that night?"

She shook her head. "No. I assumed he'd covered for me somehow... said I escaped on my own, maybe."

Blade ran a hand over his face. "Tim's missing, Lily. His apartment was torn apart. There was blood, a lot of it. It doesn’t look good."

All color drained from her face. "No," she whispered. "Oh God. They figured it out. They know he helped me."

"That's what it looks like," Blade agreed grimly.

"This is my fault," she said, her voice breaking. "He helped me, and now he's going to die because of it."

"You don't know that," Blade said, though he didn't entirely believe his own words. Based on the amount of blood at the scene, and the level of betrayal, Tim was as good as dead. If he wasn't already.

Lily's eyes filled with tears. "Yes, I do.

You don't know Zeb. He's... he's sadistic.

He enjoys hurting people. Especially people who betray him.

Tim, he was a constant reminder that Zeb had eyes and ears everywhere, but…

he was kind. He never threatened me. He never hurt me.

Having him around was almost a relief. He… differed from Zeb and his men."

The first tear spilled over, trailing down her cheek.

Something in Blade's chest tightened at the sight.

Before he could think better of it, he moved to the couch, sitting beside her and pulling her against his chest. She stiffened for a moment, then melted into him, her small body shaking with silent sobs.

"Listen to me," he said firmly, one hand cradling the back of her head. "This is not your fault. Tim made his choice. He knew the risks."

"But if I hadn't?—"

"No," Blade cut her off. "You don't get to take that on. The only people responsible for Tim's situation are the ones who hurt him. Zeb and his crew of psychopaths."

She pressed her face into his shirt, her tears soaking through to his skin. He let her cry, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles on her back.

When her sobs finally subsided, she pulled back slightly, wiping at her eyes with the backs of her hands. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I got your shirt wet."

"I've got others," he said dryly.

A small, hiccupping laugh escaped her, though there was no real humor in it.

"What's going to happen now?" she asked, her voice small.

"Now, the club handles it," Blade told her. "We look for Tim, see if he's still alive. And we keep you safe."

"But—"

"No buts," he interrupted. "Rule four, remember? No putting yourself in danger. No self-destructive behavior. That includes blaming yourself for things beyond your control."

She looked up at him, those big eyes still shimmering with tears. "I can't just sit here while Tim might be dying because of me."

"Yes, you can," Blade said firmly. "And you will. The club has resources, connections. We'll do everything we can to find him."

"Promise?" she asked, so vulnerable in that moment that something in Blade's chest ached.

"I promise," he said, meaning it. "If Tim can be found, we'll find him. Listen baby, how much do you know about The Watchmen?"