Bred by the MC VP - Page 25

She’d talked with Beth in the morning, and she hoped Dog would come for her. After he’d stood on the sidelines at the diner while she bled out on the ground, she wasn’t sure if he even cared anymore. It had been almost two weeks since she’d been rushed to the hospital, and not a word from Dog, Forge, or anyone at the club. She truly felt abandoned, like she was on her own in every way.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her black hair was brushed out smooth. Hank kept telling her to cut it as it was well past her waistline, but she knew Dog loved it the way it was. The women in these finer circles had shorter cuts and Hank said her long hair made her look feral. He constantly reminded her of where she came from like some kind of stain she could never fully remove.

She didn’t care what he thought.

Sable took a deep breath, knowing she couldn’t hide out in here forever. Her body had healed from the ordeal at the diner. It looked much worse than it was with all the blood. Luther and Hank had used the opportunity to segregate her further, attempting to pry information from her at every chance. She spent her days locked up in a private hospital room even though she’d fully recovered nearly a week ago.

Knowing about all their underground dealings made her anxious being under lock and key. But if Dog didn’t care about her anymore, what did she have to go back to? Certainly not her own family.

Within seconds of exiting the bathroom, Hank was there, his hand on her back. Part of her felt suffocated by the cop, but she also knew that without him around, she’d have seen a much worse side of Luther Grass. He wanted to use her as biker bait, even if it cost her her life. Hank wouldn’t hear of it, insisting she was good for information.

“You look beautiful in that dress,” he said, leading them toward the pools. It was still hard for her to walk in heels, and she struggled to balance.

“Thank you.” She felt completely out of place, zipped up into a dress that reined in all her curves, making it difficult to breathe. She still looked several sizes larger than the women mingling at the party.

She knew this party was different from the others. It wasn’t just about raising campaign funds or kissing ass. Grass was pulling in his contacts, the ones he didn’t want publicized. She’d seen some of Hell’s Slaves rivals, which made her nerves ramp up. A lot of big players in the underworld were being round up, and she knew it was only the first stage of trying to wipe out Forge’s club. She’d kept her eyes and ears open at every chance to soak up as much intel for her prez.

“Next week is important for Luther. Once he’s voted in, he can start fulfilling his campaign promises,” said Hank. “Do you remember his number one commitment?”

“Getting rid of the Hell’s Slaves?”

He nodded with a smile. “Then all your worries will be over, sweetheart. All those heathens will be dead, behind bars, or driven far away from our jurisdiction.”

She smiled back.

“You’ll be safe and won’t have to look over your shoulder.”

“And you trust Grass?”

He chewed on his lip for a bit, continuing to walk. “He’s a complicated man, but he has big plans. Great plans.”

“Hank, won’t another club just fill in the void once the Hell’s Slaves is gone?”

This time, he chuckled. “Grass will have everything covered. He’s not a pushover like Peterson was. Trust me.”

She was tempted to ask him about the young women who’d been brought in by the vanload and the sleazy characters she’d seen mingling in the shadows. But she didn’t want to let on how much she knew and blow everything. Grass was involved in drugs, guns, and women. It was a mess.

“I’m glad to hear that. After tonight, I’d like to go back to my house. There’s no need for me to spend any more time at the hospital. I’ve never felt better.”

“I’ve told you, Sable. It’s for your safety. Until Grass is elected, he can’t protect you the way he’d like.”

“I feel like a prisoner,” she said. Sable missed Dog sneaking into her house. She missed everything about him, and she wondered if he thought about her at night, too. Hank was getting too territorial lately, and faking or not, no woman would put up with it for long.

Hank stopped and faced her, holding both her hands in his. She cringed. “You should be used to it where you come from, Sable. By the way, you should consider changing your name. It sounds like a stripper’s name.”

She held her breath and bit her tongue.

Tags: Sam Crescent, Stacey Espino Erotic
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