Page 62 of Savage in the Streets

“That’s not gonna happen. I’ll help you flee the country if I have to.”

“And risk getting caught and losing all of this.” I gesture around his penthouse.

“None of these things are worth losing you.”

I cup his cheeks in my hands. “God, how are you so perfect?”

“I could ask you the same.”

One of his arms moves to my back, the other snakes under my legs. He lifts me, and I throw my arms around his neck.

He carries me to his bed, setting me down and pulling his shirt off.

“Being without you the entire weekend was torture,” he says.

“Do you really want to say that to the woman who spent three nights in jail?”

Next, he undoes his belt, but before he can slide down his pants, my phone rings. It’s Bruce.

I had put in a call before I left the courthouse, but I hardly expected him to call me back so soon.

“You got this,” Ashton says. “Just get him here.”

“Hey, tough guy,” I say into the receiver.

“You wanted to talk with me?”

“I’d like to do more than talk. Would you mind meeting up?”

“First, your father contacts me. Then your brother. What is it with Savages? They act all big and tough, yet come to me with their tails between their legs.”

“Oh, Bruce, I assure you: my tail is not between my legs.”

“I’d love for you to come over here and prove that to me, baby girl.”

“I’m sure you would, but you know as well as I do how weak that would make you look. If we’re together, your people won’t think of you as the man that claimed a Savage Queen. They’ll snicker, smile your way, and bow to me.”

“Maybe I should just hang up then.”

“I would advise against that. I have some information for you. Enemies hiding in the shadows.”

“I call them rats.”

“Rats with pointy teeth that could cost you everything,” I say firmly.

“I suppose you’re going to want something for this information?”

“I’m gonna give you an address. Be there tomorrow at noon. We’ll talk then.”

“Maybe I have something already planned.”

“Cancel. Like I said, you’re gonna wanna hear what I have to say.”

I hear him exhale through the receiver. “Fine. Text me the address.”

The line goes dead, and my heart does a triple-beat, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

“Holy shit—I just set up a meeting with the head of the Blood Angels.”