Page 15 of Her Dirty Biker (Savage Kings MC #3)

Chapter fifteen

Diesel

Her blonde hair spills across my chest, and her breath moves softly against my skin like the only thing tethering me to this world. She’s safe. She’s mine.

She has no idea just how close I came to losing my goddamn mind.

When Guardrail took her, something inside me snapped. Not just anger. Not just fear. It was deeper than that, primal, brutal, soul-shredding panic, like someone reached in and ripped my heart out through my throat.

But I got her back. We got her back.

I don’t sleep. I lie there, one arm wrapped around Willow, watching the slow rhythm of her breathing. Memorizing every inch of her body against mine.

I’m afraid that if I blink, she’ll disappear again.

Careful not to wake her, I slide out of bed and pull on my jeans. I pause, watching her for one more minute. Just one more.

She murmurs something in her sleep and curls deeper into the warm spot I left behind.

God, I love her.

That thought used to terrify me, still kind of does. But this is real. Bone-deep. Unshakable. Now that I’ve admitted it to myself, there’s no going back.

Rock meets me at the back of the garage, sipping coffee like he didn’t just organize a rescue op.

“You good?” he asks.

“No.” I shake my head. “Not until Guardrail’s dealt with.”

He arches a brow. “You sure you’re not too close to this?”

I let out a humorless laugh. “I’m so far past too close I can’t even see the fucking line.”

Rock studies me for a long second, then nods once. “We’ve got eyes on the warehouse. Sons are scattered. Guardrail is in the cage and already begging for his mommy.”

“Good. Let him wait.”

I flex my hands, jaw tight. This isn’t just about retaliation. This is about ending the threat—for good. Willow can sleep without flinching at shadows. I can breathe without wondering who’s coming for her next.

Rock claps a hand on my shoulder. “Leaving at one. You sure Willow’s safe where she is?”

“She’s staying here, and Rooster’s looking out for her.”

“You trust him?”

“With her life.”

He nods again, and I turn to leave.

But before I hit the door, he calls out, “Diesel.”

“Yeah?”

“I saw the way you looked when you walked in.” His voice softens. “You love her.”

I don’t answer, don’t have to. As a man who recently fell in love himself, Rock knows that it isn’t a negative to have someone so important in your life.

When I open the door to my room, Willow’s awake. She’s wrapped in a blanket, holding a mug of coffee, legs tucked under her like some innocent, sleepy little thing I want to ruin all over again.

“Hey,” she whispers, voice hoarse. “You didn’t leave a note.”

I cross to her and drop a kiss on her forehead. “Didn’t want to wake you.”

“Didn’t sleep much.”

“You okay?”

She nods, but her eyes are still shadowed. “Rooster said you were meeting your president.”

“I did.”

Her gaze sharpens. “You’re going to finish this?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re coming back to me?”

I cup her face in both hands and look her straight in the eyes. “You’re not getting rid of me, little fox. Not ever.”

She leans into my touch. “Promise?”

I kiss her slowly, deeply. “I love you. I’ll always come back.”

A tear slides down her cheek, and she swipes at it with a frustrated little huff. “God, I hate crying. I love you, too.”

“When I get back, we’re going to discuss this love stuff,” I joke.

“Absolutely,” she practically beams.

It’s over fast. The Savage Kings take the place in a tight, strategic sweep. I set my sights on the cage and the man who tried to hurt my Willow.

Guardrail puts up a fight—predictable, sloppy, furious—but there’s nowhere left for him to run. By the time we drag him out, bloodied and cursing, the rest of the Sons have either bailed or surrendered.

I stand over him, watching the bastard wheeze through a busted lip.

“This is what happens,” I say, voice low, “when you go after what’s mine.”

He spits blood at my boots.

I let it slide because I already won.

I come back to Willow just after sunset.

She’s on the porch in one of my hoodies, hair in a messy knot, and beautiful as sin. When she sees me, her eyes flood with relief.

“You’re okay,” she breathes.

“I told you I’d come back.”

She runs to me, and I catch her mid-jump. She wraps her legs around my waist and kisses me like she hasn’t seen me in years.

“I love you,” she whispers against my mouth.

“I know,” I murmur. “You gonna keep saying it every time I walk through the door?”

“Only if you keep coming back.”

“Then I guess you’re stuck with me, baby.”

“Good.”

She kisses me again, arms tight around my neck, and for the first time in a long time, everything feels right .

Later, with her curled up in my lap and the fire crackling beside us, she murmurs, “What now?”

“What do you want?” I ask.

She smiles, shy and sweet. “You.”

“You already have me.”

“Then maybe a job at the garage or something else with the club. Something that means I don’t have to go back to the casino.”

“I’ll talk to Rock. You’re family now.”

She goes quiet for a beat. Then she asks, “Can I stay with you?”

“Forever.”

“You sure?”

I tip her chin up. “You’re not just mine, Willow. I’m yours too.”

She blinks at me, those big eyes going glassy. “Diesel…”

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“Fuck, I love you.” I kiss her deliberately. “Those are the last words I want to hear before I fall asleep every night.”

She grins. “Even if I’m yelling it while you’re spanking me?”

“Especially then.”

She laughs, full and wild, and I’ll do anything to keep her laughing like that. Always.