Savage (Spartan Watchmen MC #4)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

SAVANNAH

S avannah's heart raced as she followed Savage's motorcycle down the highway. It’d been racing a lot lately. There’d been times where she wasn’t sure if she was having a heart or a panic attack. Thoughts and emotions bounced around inside of her, none of them sticking for more than a second. She was nothing if not completely overwhelmed and ill equipped for this situation.

She felt embarrassed for calling Savage ‘Daddy’ and ashamed of herself for lying and tricking all the people she’d met in Grand Ridge. Not to mention desperation pooling in her stomach for the safety of her sister and niece. She was also angry about her mother dying. Not at her mother, but at God. God allowed her mother to get cancer. God allowed her to die. She knew blaming God wasn’t at all rational but at the moment, she didn’t care. She was angry. Angry at the joke of a healthcare system they had, angry at the people who took advantage of her when she was at her lowest and angry at herself for being so damn stupid.

As they approached their destination, an imposing structure loomed ahead. She followed Savage through a guarded gate and pulled into the gravel lot outside of the building. The Spartan Watchmen's clubhouse stood like a fortress, its weathered brick exterior and barred windows a stark contrast to the vulnerability of her motel room. She parked next to Savage, opened the car door and stepped outside.

“Home away from home,” Savage announced as he cut the engine.

Savannah gazed up at the building, her eyes wide. “It's... a lot bigger than I expected,” she murmured.

Savage chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down her spine. “Wait 'til you see the inside.”

As they entered, Savannah was struck by the unexpected warmth of the interior. Rich, dark wood paneling and leather furnishings created an atmosphere of masculine comfort. The air smelled of expensive cigar smoke and whiskey, with an underlying scent of leather and oil.

“This is the main area,” Savage explained, his hand resting on the small of her back as he guided her through. “Kitchen's through there, rec room down that hall.”

Savannah nodded, trying to absorb it all. “It feels... safe,” she admitted, surprised by her own words.

Savage's eyes softened slightly. “That's the idea, darlin'. Now, let me show you where you will be staying.”

He led her up the stairs and then down a corridor, pointing out heavy oak doors.

“These are the officers' private quarters. Each officer has a large bedroom with a full attached bathroom. We rotate through twenty-four hour shifts here. The important thing is there's always someone on guard. 24/7 security, cameras covering every angle outside and most of the inside. There are no cameras in the bedrooms.”

As he detailed the security measures, Savannah felt a weight lifting from her shoulders. For the first time in months, she felt truly protected. But a nagging voice in the back of her mind whispered, 'Protected from what? The Rejects... or your own choices?' Savage stopped at the last door in the corridor, his massive frame nearly blocking the entire entryway. He reached into his pocket, producing a flat keycard that looked like those used in a hotel.

“This,” he said, his gravelly voice low, “is my private suite.” He unlocked the door and escorted her into the large room. A king-sized bed stood in the middle, two nightstands flanking it. On the other side of the room was a small sitting area with a couch, a coffee table and a TV. To the side was a small desk and chair.

Savannah's eyes widened, her heart skipping a beat. “But... where will you stay?”

Savage's lips quirked into a half-smile. “Don't worry, darlin'. I've got a house nearby. I’ll stay in the guest rooms when I’m here. You need this more than I do right now.”

“I can stay in one of the guest rooms,” she offered. “You don’t have to give up your room for me.”

“The guest rooms don’t have their own bathrooms or locks on the doors. I’d prefer no one to walk in on you while you showered. You’ll stay here.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, looking up at Savage. “I don’t know what to say.”

Savage's piercing gaze met hers, and for a moment, Savannah felt as if he could see right through her carefully constructed facade. “You don't have to say anything,” he replied. “Just remember, you're safe here. Whoever you're running from... he can't touch you now.”

Savannah bit her lip, conflicting emotions warring within her. Gratitude for his protection battled with the growing unease. The deeper she got involved with the club, the harder it was to gather information to betray them.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Savage nodded, his expression softening slightly. He set her suitcase next to the bed. “Get settled in. Dinner will be ready downstairs soon. Tater's been cooking up a storm, and I’m sure Emilee and Makenzie are eager to see you.”

At the mention of the women, Savannah's stomach twisted. Their friendly faces flashed in her mind, heightening her sense of guilt. They’d been nothing but kind to her and there she was, spying on them.

“I'll be down soon,” Savannah managed, forcing a smile.

The door closed behind him, leaving Savannah alone with her thoughts.