Page 59 of Pretty Savage: Defy

The Order has spent generations building a world where no one can touch them. No one from the outside.

“What happens if I call in the favor?”

I’ve lessened the distance between us, close enough to take him down if I want. But I don’t move. What he says next matters more than proving I can.

“You tell me what you need,” he says. “And I make it happen.”

Ten minutes later I slide into the passenger seat in the van.

“You heard all that?” I ask Thomson.

He nods. “Seems like you made a new friend.”

I hold out the passport, so fresh it’s still warm.

Thomson takes off his glasses to examine it. “Willow Regina Bishop. Twenty-one years old. Santa Barbara, California. Brown hair. Brown eyes.” He hands it back. “Looks exactly like her.”

The engine turns over as I run my thumb gently across Laurel’s photograph.

“You know she won’t take it,” Thomson says. “She’s not going to leave you.”

“I know, and I’d never force her.” I can’t take my eyes off the photo. Brown hair and warm eyes. To everyone else, she may look like any other woman, but to me, she shines. “It’s a parachute. Something she can use if everything comes crashing down.”

I look up as my best friend puts the van in drive and pulls away from the curb, then lower my eyes to the passport again.

The one that can take Laurel away from Ashford University. Away from my father and The Order.

Away from me.

Chapter fourteen

Three Days Until Bonding

Laurel

It was past midnight by the time Carrson got home last night. I woke up and checked the clock as he slipped into bed beside me. Then I rolled over, put my head on his chest, and let the steady beat of his heart pull me back under.

Now the morning sun brightens the room. I don’t want to get up. Sam and I stayed up discussing my predicament. We went round and round trying to find a solution.

There was none.

I peel back my eyelids to find Carrson’s side of the bed empty, but there’s a note waiting for me, folded in half and left on his pillow. I open it.

Kitten,

Didn’t want to wake you. I’m going to work out with some of the Brothers. Meet me at the stables at ten.

Carrson

PS You’re cute when you sleep.

I grin and hold the note to my chest, my cheeks warm from that last line. A quick dash downstairs to get breakfast, followed by a shower. has me ready to go by ten.

Sam pointed out the stables behind the main house yesterday, but we didn’t go inside. The smell of sun-warmed hay hits my nose as I enter, clean and earthy along with undertones of leather and horse.

Carrson stands with his back to me, his dark hair glinting in the shafts of light that stream through the large open wooden doors. His sleeves are shoved to his elbows, and the muscles in his forearms shift as he works the brush down the flank of a massive black horse. It’s so tall and broad through the chest that Carrson looks almost ordinary beside it. The animal leans into his touch, whinnying softly while Carrson murmurs something too low for me to hear.

I stop just inside the doorway, watching him. Those hands have brandished a knife. They’ve carried me when I couldn’t walk and pulled me close when I was scared. Now one rests lightly against the horse’s side while the other moves in slow, patient strokes.