Wade
His expression darkened. “Kitchen’s closed,” he said calmly. Her gaze snapped toward him immediately, and fear hit him square in the chest. Not because she was scared of him, but because she was scared of something much worse.
“What happened to your wrist?” he asked.
Headlights suddenly swept across the front windows, and the woman froze—actually froze. Every ounce of color drained from her face as several black SUVs pulled into the parking lot outside.
“Fuck,” one of the bikers muttered.
The woman backed away from the windows so fast she nearly tripped over a chair.
“No,” she breathed shakily. “No, no, no.” Wade’s eyes narrowed.
The fear on her face wasn’t fake. It wasn’t drama or attention-seeking bullshit.
This was pure survival instinct—the kind that usually came after someone had already been hurt.
Car doors opened outside, and men in dark suits climbed out into the rain. They weren’t cops. Wade knew the difference. These men were the kind of men who smiled while ruining lives. One of them started toward the entrance, and the woman looked like she was about to stop breathing altogether.
“If they find me,” she whispered, her voice cracking, “they’ll kill me.” Silence settled over the bar as the Savage Bastards all looked toward Wade, automatically waiting for him to make the call. Because this was his place and his call to make.
A hard knock echoed against the door, but Wade never took his eyes off the terrified woman standing in the middle of his bar. “What’s your name?” he asked quietly.
She hesitated as if answering might somehow get her killed.
“Harlow.” Another violent pound shook the door, and Wade’s jaw tightened.
Something ugly twisted low in his chest as he looked at the bruises around her wrist again.
He’d seen enough fear in women to recognize it, and he’d buried enough men to know exactly what kind deserved it.
Without looking away from her, Wade spoke calmly.
“Lock the door.” One of the prospects moved immediately, sliding the deadbolt into place just as the man outside grabbed the handle.
Wade reached beneath the counter and wrapped his hand around the grip of his gun because whoever those bastards were outside, they had just made the mistake of bringing their problems to Wade’s Watering Hole and the Savage bastards.