Page 25 of Wade’s Wrath

“You're an asshole,” she hissed.

“You mentioned that before,” he reminded.

“I'm paying you back for the clothes,” she insisted.

“Fine,” he said.

“I’m paying you back for everything—the food too,” she said.

“Now you're pissing me off.” She laughed again. Wade plated their breakfast and set hers in front of her. For a few minutes, everything almost felt normal—too normal. A woman sitting at his kitchen island wearing his shirt while he cooked her breakfast. Wade had never wanted this—he had never pictured it. His house was where he came when he wanted quiet. Wade's Watering Hole belonged to everyone else. The Savage Bastards were his family, but this place? This was his. Nobody invaded it. Nobody left shit on his bathroom counter or drank sugar disguised as coffee from his mugs. Nobody slept in his bed—until Harlow. And the fucked-up part was that he didn't mind her being there.

Wade looked at her. She was eating bacon with one hand and holding her ridiculous coffee with the other. She caught him staring at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said.

“You keep doing that,” she breathed.

“Doing what?” he asked.

“Looking at me like you're trying to figure something out,” she pointed out.

Maybe he was. “What would I be figuring out?”

“I don't know.” Neither did he, and that was the fucking problem. His phone rang again, and Wade checked the screen. It was Butcher.

“What?” he answered.

Butcher didn't bother with a greeting. “We found the sedan.”

Wade straightened. “Where?”

“Two miles from your place.” His eyes went immediately to Harlow.

She seemed to notice the change in him. “What happened?”

“The sedan was empty,” Butcher said. “Driver's gone.”

Wade walked toward the window. “Did Ripper see anybody?”

“No,” Butcher said.

“Fuck,” Wade spat.

“Get her to the clubhouse now,” Butcher ordered. Wade stared through the blinds. His quiet street looked exactly the way it always did, which suddenly didn't mean shit.

“Yeah, will do,” he agreed.

“And Wade?” Butcher said.

“What?” Wade asked.

“Don't take your usual route,” his Prez ordered. The line went dead.

Harlow had stopped eating. “What is it?”

Wade set his phone down. “Change of plans.”

Fear flashed across her face, and he hated that fucking look. “What's wrong?”