Page 4 of Rogue’s Vow

I put a finger to her lips. “Stop, Angel, you’re safe. I believe you.”

Her eyes roll back and her lips move slowly, her voice barely audible. “Arianna, run. Arianna, run.” And now her body begins to shake. I pull off my leather jacket and cover her shivering body with its warmth before going to the closet and pulling out an old blanket and pillow and getting her comfortable.

My cell phone buzzes. “What’s the damage?” I ask Hayze.

Bux took a bullet that went deep, and Glory caught one that grazed him in the side. Dox is patching them up, just got the bullet out. He’ll live but he’s as angry as a hornet that just got his house tossed. “Anyone else hurt?”

“Minor shit for injuries, but the sirens are blaring in the distance. I’m going to need to call in a favor to get the beat cops off our ass tonight.”

“Do it, tell them we’ll owe them down the road.”

“I’ll take care of it, Prez. How is she?”

I glance over at Angel, and she barely stirs, so still, so creamy pale and innocent while lying in my lair but that bleeding isn’t going to stop itself and Dox has his hands full with the men upstairs. It makes my chest tighten to see her bleed. She could have died tonight, my crew could have died protecting her tonight. “She’ll be okay once I stitch her arm up. What’s the damage to the Scorpions?” I ask.

“Rough guess, at least ten. They may have gotten a few shots off as they hit the door, but we were waiting on the sons a bitches, knew they were coming and gunned those motherfuckers down as quick as they sent in more.”

Angel sucks in a gulp of air, watching me with apprehension, probably trying to get a handle on the situation, determine what my crew’s next step is, but no matter that she just pulled me and my crew into a war, there’s no way I’m letting the fucking Scorpions take her now.

I grab the first aid kit and a bottle of 90-proof whiskey from the shelf before going to sit by her side. “None of this is going to feel good, but Dox is busy patching up my men upstairs so you’re stuck with me. My name is Rogue, prez of this club.”

She nods. I don’t think I’m telling her anything that she doesn’t know. Like my crew I do wonder exactly how she knows so much about us. That it would bring trouble to our door, that she was just in the wrong place at the right time or that me telling her who I was doesn’t seem to surprise her at all.

I remove the blood-soaked towel, patting what blood I can, thankful that it seems to have stemmed a little as I clean her up. “Tighten your fists. This is going to hurt like a mother- fucker.” I douse the torn flesh with alcohol, already instinctively knowing from seeing hundreds of wounds over the years that there’s no bullet lodged in her flesh, just torn skin. She’s lucky as hell that shot didn’t hit anything else.

“This is going to hurt too, but then you’ll go numb.” I push the plunger on the lidocaine, and her face contorts with the pain of the burn. Now we wait, not like with the guys I’ve fixed up more times than I want to count, the ones who wouldn’t take a shot of numbing agent to save their lives in front of the other members of the crew.

But I don’t want Angel to feel a second more of pain, especially at my hand. We’ll get to the bottom of what’s going on eventually because she’s sure as shit not going anywhere until we do.

My crew, they’re loyal as fuck, they may not have liked that she may belong to the Scorpions but they sure as shit showed the Scorpions what happens when you show up unannounced at the Royal Bastards’ door. But they deserve answers, real answers and to know what we’re fighting for other than some pretty redhead that came barging through our door.

When it’s time, I push the sterilized needle in and start stitching her up. She’s quiet, doesn’t say a word the whole damn time. But the minute I go to tie off the knot, she passes right the fuck out.

Fear hits my chest as I search for a pulse, exhaling a breath. Her creamy skin is so pale, but those eyes were so vibrant, full of a mixture of fear and rage as she stormed into our lives and against my men.

Her copper red hair spills in curls against me and I take a moment to let a strand and then two slips through my fingers, just so I can feel it against my skin.

Angel is perfection in a way that sirens are to men at sea. “Wake up, Angel,” I whisper, already knowing that this lovely fragile little beauty is going to be trouble of the worst kind for me and my men.

Her head shakes slowly. “Arianna run! Arianna run!” she whispers hoarsely. I place a hand on her nape to help her up as she wakes.

“You’re going to be okay, Angel. I’ve got you. Who’s Arianna?”

5

ANGEL

Fear for my sister, it makes me crawl from the deep place of sleep, slowly regaining awareness. “Arianna run! Arianna run!”

A strong hand on my nape draws me upward, helping me back into consciousness and the reality of what I’ve done. “You’re going to be okay, Angel. I’ve got you. Who’s Arianna?”

I swallow past the lump in my throat, trying to calm the fear. But this man saved me. Not only from the enemy but even from his own men. “My sister. I’ll go back to them willingly before I make it easier for them to find her.”

His voice is gruff, and his finger feels rough against my cheek as he caresses the side of my face. “I said, I’ve got you. Stitched up like new. Pretty damn good with the needle if I do say so myself. I don’t think you or anyone looking will be able to see it after it heals.”

My eyes close again. Sure better keep me pretty, no tattoos or scarring. Isn’t that what I heard the Scorpions say. No man in this world has ever had me, only tried to use me, break me and sell me for the almighty dollar. Young women like me, men don’t want to love us, they just want to use us as a commodity. Rogue is probably just the same way. Better if he doesn’t know the truth.

I should have kept running, tried to find a spot to hide instead of trading one notorious outlaw motorcycle club for another but I just couldn’t physically run anymore.