Czar and Blythe lived in a two-story house that sprawled out huge. Very thick walls, Mediterranean tile, banks of inviting windows facing the forest both upstairs and down. Lots of gables and balconies. There was space. Lots of it, inside and out. The house looked inviting and gave the impression that it was a home. The house was built in the shape of a U with a courtyard inside because, according to Czar, Blythe had always wanted one. She’d had the house built that way before he’d ever come home.
Seychelle stood by the Harley, her helmet in her hand, staring up at the house without moving. “What are we doing here, Savage? Don’t they have like a million kids?”
He took the helmet out of her hand and hooked it on his bike. “I texted Czar and asked for a quiet meeting. That’s code for no children. Told him I’d be bringing you and would like Blythe here if possible. In their world, it’s difficult, but he got back to me right away and said to come. They have Darby, already eighteen, and Kenny, about to turn eighteen, Zoe, Emily and Jimmy.”
“I see.” She still stood reluctantly looking up at him, clearly nervous.
“Haven’t had a chance to talk about Brandon Campbell, Seychelle. We still need to get that done, because in my opinion, he’s a dangerous man. Arnold and the rest of it got in the way, but that’s an important conversation and part of the reason I want someone watching out for you,” he said.
Nearly a week earlier, Seychelle had been at the Floating Hat with Lana and some of the older women, and Brandon Campbell had come in with an eighteen-year-old girl who was completely under his influence. Seychelle had managed to get the girl away from him by using her voice but also tricking Brandon in front of the older women he wanted to maintain goodwill with. Savage knew Lana had brought Tessa home with her instead of to Blythe to add to her adopted crew. That had been a bit of a surprise, but he was grateful it was one less problem he was going to run into trying to get Blythe and Czar alone.
She sighed. He had the feeling she would have rolled her eyes if she thought she could get away with it.
He threaded his fingers through Seychelle’s as they stood beside his Harley. Just looking down at her face, those blue eyes surrounded by that sweep of long lashes and her faint smile as she looked up at him, sent heat rushing through his veins. He ran his thumb over her lips, brushed down and over her chin a little possessively. “Proud of you for taking on that vindictive little shit Campbell again, Seychelle. I am. But you gotta know he’s going to come after you. You’ve set yourself up as a target.”
“Is that why I’m in trouble?” She was stalling. Looking at the house. Not wanting to go in. Willing to pick a fight instead of facing his club president.
He caught her stubborn little chin as it began to tilt. He was in love with that chin. He bent down to kiss it, thought better of it because then she’d know he was totally gone on her. He bit her instead, catching all that stubbornness between his teeth and taking a bite out of it. She yelped, tried to pull back, couldn’t and glared at him.
“You’re so oral.”
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing when we both know you love it.”
Her long lashes fluttered, but she didn’t admit it. “You didn’t answer the question. Are you upset over the Brandon thing? Because he’s a wimp. And I had to take the opportunity when it presented itself. Who knew when it would come around again? I’ve dealt with him before. Remember? He asked me out before I ever met you, and I knew he was a creeper. He likes to use his voice to influence women. You even helped me get Sahara away from him.”
She referred to another young woman Campbell had under his control before Seychelle discovered her and managed, with the help of the club and her incredible, persuasive voice, to get her back to the safety of the woman’s parents. He clenched his teeth. That should have told her something about Campbell right there.
She didn’t get it, because as much as she could read people, she relied too heavily on that gift of her voice and her own innate goodness. She couldn’t conceive of people like Campbell—or him. She saw the evil in Brandon, but she thought in terms of him using his voice on women to take away their self-esteem. She didn’t think he might do anything else to get back at her. She saw Joseph Arnold as a nuisance, a man to avoid, but she didn’t think his disgusting behavior would escalate. And Savage, her lover, the man she looked at with close to adoration in her eyes at times, she saw danger in him, but she steadfastly refused to see the killer he hid from her, but if she looked closer, she would discover him.
“Didn’t say you were in trouble, babe, but it was too dangerous, and you know it was. You knew it before you ever started a war with Campbell. You’re a good judge of character, so right from the moment you met him, you knew he was the kind of man who gets his kicks from tearing women down.” His thumb brushed back and forth over her soft skin in a deliberate, mesmerizing caress.
Twice she started to refute his statement and then stopped herself. Finally, she sighed, but she didn’t pull away from him. “That’s the point, Savage: he uses his voice. His voice can’t compete with mine.”
“Baby, look at me. You keep looking anywhere but at me.” He gave her the command very gently, but it was a command, nothing less.
Seychelle was her own person. She proved that to him every moment she was with him. Everything she did was her choice. That was what made her so special to him, that was why her gift, her sacrifices for him, were so special. He knew everything she gave to him was her choice. She could resist him any time she wanted to. She was susceptible to his voice, but she still made her own choices.
Seychelle’s blue eyes met his, and his heart did that funny lurch in his chest it nearly always did when she looked at him. At least she kept the damn ring on her finger. He knew if he put it there in front of those women, she wouldn’t take it off. She would never embarrass him. Now, he just didn’t want to call attention to it until he was safe.
“I’m going to say this one more time, and I want you to hear me and trust me on this. I know men. I know that kind of man. Brandon Campbell is a weasel. When I say that, it comes from a place of knowing his kind. You took two women from him before he was through with them. I think his endgame was to get them to commit suicide. I think he’s that big of a sick fuck.”
He framed her face with both hands and bent his head down to hers, maintaining eye contact. He needed her to really hear him. “He wants that ultimate power. He knows you stripped him of it, and he’s going to come after you. He knows his voice won’t work on you, so he’ll come at you some other way, and it won’t be out in the open because he’s the kind of man who doesn’t have the guts to confront you like that. I swear, I’m not trying to control you. I know it looks like that, but I wanted you to have fun with your friends. I know you like going to the Floating Hat. I’d rather have my fingernails pulled out one by one than go there. Lana was concerned when she saw him with that young girl and knew what you were doing that day. She saw into Campbell’s character the same as me.”
He brushed kisses across her soft lips when she frowned. He didn’t want her blaming Lana for telling him. Already, she could be blaming the club members for the monster building like a dangerous predator in him. She knew, ultimately, it would be her who would pay the price. He didn’t want her to hate them for it. They were his family. He wanted her to think of them as her family as well.