Chapter Twenty-Two
CAMDEN
Iwake to the irritating blare of notifications from my cell phone and a cold, empty bed.
Panic rises in my chest as I bolt upright, looking around the room, finding Saige sitting in my chair, looking out at the rising sun through the window.
She looks so beautiful, her long black hair hanging down her back, her bare legs pulled up to her chest, the soft curve of her hip and thigh on display.
“Think I ran again?” she says without turning around, as if she could feel my rising panic from over there.
“Do you blame me?”
“No, Camden, I don’t blame you.” She says the words softly, and I try not to read into the hidden meaning behind them. My phone buzzes again with two rapid-fire texts.
“No rest for the wicked,” she says as she continues to look out at the landscape, watching our little part of the world wake up. I pick up my phone, quickly opening it to texts from Sin.
Sin: We need you out here. There have been some developments.
I climb out of bed, pulling on my jeans, socks, boots, and a plain T-shirt before taking my cut off the hook and slipping it on.
Quietly, to not disturb whatever peace she’s found this morning, I head to the bathroom to do my business and be ready to meet the world outside.
Once I’m finished, I walk over to Saige, who hasn’t moved from her spot on the chair.
Squatting down in front of her, I rub my hands over her legs, massaging my fingertips into her thighs.
“Are you okay? You look lost in your head.”
“Just a lot on my mind.”
“I understand. I have to go meet with Sin and everyone else. Take all the time you need and come out when you’re ready.” Telling her I love you is on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it back. I leave her to herself, knowing that pushing her isn’t going to get me anything but some missing teeth.
The air in the room is thick with tension and testosterone as I walk in, smoke curling from cigarettes, the scent heavy and assaulting. I take a seat in one of the bar chairs, and everyone else is already either sitting or standing in front of it.
“This isn’t a conversation for church, then?” I ask as I get comfortable.
“You’re the only one who can call church, so we’re here. It’s not every day I have to summon you. What happened to waking up well before the sun?”
“A fiery vixen with long legs and a bad attitude.”
“Sounds like your kind of challenge,” Rolo says.
My fingers strum on the cool bar top, a slow rhythm that beats in time with the war brewing in my chest, waiting for one of them to drop the updates.
Sin speaks first, leaning forward over the bar, resting his forearms on the slick top.
“Saige’s house was hit. They know who she is. It was only a matter of time. We don’t know if they’ve got eyes on her yet, but they’re closing in.”
“The prospects?”
“Dead, throats slit ear to ear, a willow mark carved into their chests. They’re sending a message.”
“Who’s sending a message?” Saige asks as she walks into the room.
She practically takes my breath away. Every man here stops what he’s doing to look at her; she commands without even trying to do so.
She’s the type of woman who could lead armies of thousands into battle, and they’d follow her willingly.
It has nothing to do with her ethereal beauty and everything to do with her fierce, unwavering self-confidence.
“The Widowmakers. They know who you are. They came for the two prospects watching over your house, killed them with your signature,” I tell her point-blank, knowing she would rather be spoken to like an equal than someone I need to protect and hide information from.
I don’t need to protect her from this, but I do need to give her my support. This is how I do that.
“Do you have a plan for retaliation? Or to end this?”
“Not yet. For now, we stay put.”
“I’m not going to hide out here at the clubhouse, Camden. I don’t cower, I fight. When I agreed to come here with you, I told you I wasn’t going to be a prisoner again. You will either help me destroy these threats, or I will leave and handle them on my own.”
I should be pissed. I should be fucking livid that someone in my clubhouse would talk to me like that in front of my club.
I would cut down lesser men for the blatant disrespect for authority and the way we live.
But I feel none of those things. I look at Saige, her shoulders back, spine straight, her hair flowing down her back like a warrior princess.
A warrior queen. All I feel is pride and amazement at her strength and determination.
“You have the Hell’s Heathens by your side and at your back. Tell us what you need.” Saige blinks slowly at me like she isn’t quite sure what she just heard.
“So hiding out isn’t an option then?” Malice asks, slowly reaching over to try to pet Sin’s bunny.
“No,” I snap at Malice, looking at Saige, waiting.
“We fight. We don’t wait for them to come to us, we bring the fight to them. I want this all behind us by morning.” Silence slams into the room like a damn freight train. Malice’s cigarette falls from his lips to the top of the bar, ash scattering about.
I can feel the heat of their eyes staring at me, but I don’t take mine from her. “She’s not a job, not a package we ship off, or a victim we hide. I’m hers, and if it’s her they want, we’re going to fight them beside her until there’s nothing left but dust.”
Wrath, always the most level-headed of us all, despite his road name, gives me a long, concerned look before speaking.
“They won’t go down easy. This isn’t about territory or money; this is about principle, revenge, and retribution.
Once they realize we’re now connected with the Willow Killer, that she’s our president’s Achilles’ heel?
They’re going to want her that much more, thinking she’s our weak spot. ”
I stand, pushing the barstool back. “She’s not weak, she’s strong as hell, and each of you have seen it. Stronger than most men we’ve ridden with. Yeah, she’s my goddamn heart, and we all agreed, property or not, we’d fight till the end.”
Wrath looks at Saige then, speaking directly to her. “Let’s make them pay. All of them, one by one.”
“So what’s the move, Prez?” Rolo asks, cracking his knuckles.
I walk over to Saige, our boots toe-to-toe as I gently run my fingers over her temple, pushing her silky hair behind her ear.
“We use her as bait, let them think they can have her. We split in two. One team sticks close to her, eyes on her twenty-four-seven. Discreet, but ready to shoot on sight.”
“And the second?” Malice asks. I turn and look him dead in the eye, giving him the go-ahead he’s going to enjoy.
“We burn it all. Burn their safehouses, burn their deals, their clubhouse, we burn their fucking name off the goddamn map. Full decimation.” The room hums with anticipation and approval, low and savage.
I continue, my voice calm and hard as steel.
“We’ve bled to hold our territory, they’ve come into our home and tried to take what belongs to us, what we’ve worked hard to build, and now they want to come for my woman.
They’ve spit in our faces, and it’s time they pay the ultimate price.
We’re going to make the ground drink their blood for even thinking they could challenge us.
“Ride or die, Prez,” Wrath says, slamming his fist to the bar top.
The others follow in unison. I turn toward Saige, her body rigid and fierce, rage rising to the surface as if she is just as energized as the men.
She was made for this. Grabbing her hand, I lead her from the room.
I need a few moments alone with her. Then we have a war to end.