7. Reyes #2
“Because for the first time in my life, I know what it feels like to be chosen.” The admission is quiet, but it carries to every corner of the room.
“Shannon looks at me and sees something worth fighting for. Worth loving.” I pause, gathering the words that will either save me or destroy me.
“I spent thirty-four years believing I wasn’t worth choosing.
That love was for other people. Then she showed up in that freight yard with her broken kid and her broken life, and somehow she saw something in me worth saving. ”
Silence stretches, broken by the soft click of Tank’s coin.
“You love her,” Tank says. It’s not a question.
“Yeah. I love her. And I love that kid like my own blood.” I look around the table at the men who’ve been my family for eight years. “But I love all of you, too. You’re my brothers. The first real family I ever had.”
“Then stay,” Diesel says. “Let Rector take her to Michigan. Keep your family.”
The suggestion is a sucker punch. “You think I haven’t thought of that? Spent the last three days trying to figure out how to have both?”
“And?” Grizz asks.
“And there’s no way. Holt won’t stop. The only way to keep her safe is to disappear with her. And that means leaving all of you.”
The words taste like ash. Choosing Shannon means walking away from the only brotherhood I’ve ever known.
“Fuck that.” Viper’s voice cuts through the room. “You’re not going anywhere, brother.”
“Viper—”
“No, listen.” He pushes off the wall, moving to stand behind my chair. “This club doesn’t abandon family. And you’re family, Savior. You and Shannon and that kid.”
“Federal heat—”
“We’ve handled federal heat before,” Hawk interrupts. “Remember the ATF raids in ‘21?”
“This is different,” Tank says, but there’s a flicker of hope in his voice.
“Is it?” Grizz leans forward. “Because from where I sit, it looks like some piece of shit in a uniform is threatening our brother’s family. And we don’t let that slide.”
One by one, I see it happen. See these hard men—criminals, outlaws—rally around something bigger than profit.
“Torrino deal’s important,” Diesel admits. “But not more important than this.”
“Blood matters more than money,” Hawk adds.
“Always has,” Viper finishes.
Tank stops flipping his coin. When he looks up, his expression has shifted. The look he gets before we go to war.
“Alright then.” He pockets the coin. “Rector gets here immediately. We extract Shannon and the kid before Holt comes back.”
Relief floods through me so fast it’s painful. “Tank—”
“But Savior?” His voice cuts through my gratitude. “This doesn’t end with running. Holt threatened our family. That means he threatened the club. And nobody threatens the Savage Kings and walks away clean.”
The promise in those words sends ice through my veins. I know what Tank is capable of when someone crosses that line. “What are you saying?”
Tank’s smile is all predator. “I’m saying Captain Holt is about to learn that some wars you can’t win with a fancy uniform.” He pulls out his phone. “Rector. Yeah, it’s Tank. We need that favor. Now.”
As Tank arranges the extraction, as my brothers' plan for a fight that could destroy us all, I think about Shannon back at the bar. Scared, but not broken. Ready to fight for what matters. Just like the rest of us. Mason Holt thinks his uniform and connections make him untouchable. He’s about to find out how wrong he is.
Because the Savage Kings don’t just protect their own—we go to war for them.
After church, I sit alone at the scarred table, staring at the empty chairs where my brothers just pledged to go to war for me. For Shannon. The weight of it sits heavy in my chest—gratitude so fierce it’s almost painful.
Tank appears in the doorway, two beers in hand. He slides one across the table. “Hell of a meeting.”
“Tank, I don’t know how to—”
“Don’t.” He holds up a hand. “You’re family, Savior. That’s what family does.”
I take a long pull of beer, swallowing around the tightness in my throat. “I never had brothers before. Not real ones.”
“I know.”
“The SEALs were supposed to be a brotherhood. Soon as I became inconvenient, they cut me loose.” I gesture to the empty room. “But you guys didn’t even hesitate.”
“Because that’s who we are. Savage Kings don’t abandon their own.”
“There was no way I was going to give her up,” I admit. “Even if it meant losing everything.”
“I know that too.” Tank studies my face. “What’s the plan?”
“She goes with Rector temporarily. Just until we handle this. Then I bring her home.”
Tank nods. “Good. Now get back out there and tell your woman the plan.”
When I walk back into the main bar, Shannon is wringing a dishtowel. Twisting the towel so tightly, I wouldn't be surprised to find its blue stripes staining her hands. The sight of her trying to hold it together when her world just blew apart makes my chest tight.
“Shannon.” She looks up. “We’re going home. Lexi’s picking up Aiden.”
Relief flickers across her face. She needs privacy to fall apart.
The drive to the safehouse is silent. Shannon stares out the window, shoulders rigid. When I park, she’s out of the truck before I kill the engine. Inside, she paces the living room.
“So what’s the plan?” she asks.
“Rector’s driving down from Michigan. You’re going with him.”
Her face goes blank. “Running again.”
“Temporarily. Just until we handle some loose ends.”
“What kind of loose ends?” Her voice sharpens. “Reyes, what are you planning?”
“Club business. Mason threatened the Savage Kings. That can’t stand.”
“And after?”
“I come get you and bring you home. Back here. This is a temporary separation, Shannon, not goodbye.”
She studies my face, looking for lies. Whatever she sees must satisfy her, because some tension leaves her shoulders.
“I want to argue,” she says. “Want to tell you we should face this together.”
“But?”
“But keeping Aiden safe and happy, matters more than what I want.” Her voice cracks.
“Yeah, baby. It does.”
The admission costs us both something.
“How do I know you’ll really come?” The question is small, vulnerable. “How do I know this isn’t your way of doing something heroic and stupid?”
“You don’t,” I say honestly. “You have to trust me. I waited thirty-four years to find you. You think I’m throwing that away now?”
Hope wars with fear in her expression.
“We don’t have time to argue,” I continue. “Not if we want Aiden safe. Mason’s coming back at six.”
“Okay.” She nods slowly. “I’ll go with Rector.”
Her trust means everything. “Come here,” I say, my voice rough.
She comes to me. I pull her into my arms, kissing her like it might be the last time, and she kisses me back with the same desperate hunger. “How long?” she asks against my mouth.
“Few days. Maybe a week.”
“Too long.” Her hands are already at my shirt. “Way too long.”
I lift her, carrying her to the bedroom, laying her on the bed we’ve shared. My hands shake slightly as I strip her clothes.
“I need to memorize you,” I say, my voice rough as I trail my mouth down her throat. “Need to remember exactly how you taste when you’re gone.”
She arches beneath me. When I reach the apex of her thighs, settling between her legs to taste her, she cries out softly.
“Hell, Shannon.” I look up at her, her face flushed with need. “I’m memorizing this. The way you taste, the sounds you make.”
I worship her with my mouth until she’s trembling, gasping my name. When she comes apart on my tongue, I hold her through it, storing the memory away.
“My turn,” she breathes when she comes down, pushing me onto my back.
She takes her time, her hands mapping every scar, every line of muscle. When she finally frees me from my jeans and takes me in her mouth with desperate hunger, I nearly lose my mind.
“Fuck, baby. That mouth—” I thread my fingers through her braids, fighting for control. “Need to be inside you.”
I pull her up, positioning her over me. “Ride me, Shannon. I want to see every part of what I’m giving up.”
She sinks down on me, and we both groan. When she starts moving, taking what she needs while I watch every expression cross her face, it’s perfect and heartbreaking.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I rasp, hands gripping her hips. “So perfect. Mine.”
“Yours,” she agrees, moving faster, chasing the pleasure. “Always yours.”
When her second orgasm builds, I flip us, needing to be in control, to claim her completely before I have to let her go. I drive into her harder, letting the desperation fuel my movements. She meets me, thrust for thrust, nails digging into my shoulders.
“Mark me,” I growl against her ear. “Leave something I can feel when you’re gone.”
She bites down on my shoulder. The sharp pain mixed with pleasure sends me over the edge. I come hard, buried deep inside her, her name torn from my throat.
Afterward, we lie tangled together. I trace patterns on her bare shoulder, memorizing the feel of her skin.
“I’ll come for you,” I promise.
“You better,” she whispers. “Because if you don’t—if you get yourself killed playing hero—I’ll never forgive you.”
The threat fills me with a fierce satisfaction. It means she’s planning on forever, too.
“I’ll come for you,” I repeat. “Count on it.”
When she nods, when she chooses to trust me with her heart, I know I’ll move heaven and earth to keep that promise. Shannon Cole is mine. And I protect what’s mine.