his head slowly, his gaze never leaving my own. “Doesn’t want a fucking thing to do with it.”
“Why?”
Dragon shrugs a shoulder. “Says she can’t take it, knowing how it was collected.”
Pressing my lips together, I lean back in my seat and watch him for a moment, wondering what the fuck I’m going to do. Why the fuck he’s told me about this now, and what he expects from me and Leighton.
“So, what’s your reason behind telling me any of this?” I grind out.
Dragon watches me for a moment, but I know him, I know that he has a reason for every single fucking thing that he does, including this.
“I had Worm look into her past, look into her father. She is like a fucking ghost, the only thing that I could find were bits and pieces of her life on the run. Before that, it was like she didn’t exist. Her father was fucked, but I wanted to know how fucked she was too.”
“You think I’d bring her in here and let her hurt the club? The family?” I ask, keeping my voice low, but unable to hide the anger that’s simmering just beneath the surface.
Dragon doesn’t speak right away. Instead, he does what he must really fucking enjoy doing—he watches me. He waits, he dissects me. The motherfucker. Standing, I walk over to the front of his desk and ball my hands into fists before I slam them down against the scarred wood.
“This club is my life. I would rather die than let any of my brothers, any of their women, or children get hurt. I would kill to protect this family, fuck, I have killed to protect this family,” I grind out.
“Calm,” he growls.
“Fuck calm,” I snap, straightening my back as I look down my nose at him. “Fuck calm,” I repeat. “You want me to kill her right now, just say the word. She’s gone, but honest to fuck, after three goddamn decades, I didn’t realize I still had to prove my loyalty.”
“You don’t,” he says, his voice even, too fucking even.
Shaking my head a couple of times, I continue to watch him. “Then what the fuck is this?” I demand.
He clears his throat, his gaze never leaving mine and his expression never changing as he continues to just take me in, watch me, wait to see if I’m going to lose my shit or not. I’m close, really fucking close at this point. Not because it’s over a bitch, but because this is my brother and he’s acting as though I’m betraying my men, my fucking family.
“This is me giving her an out to see what kind of woman she is. You’re my brother, not just because of the club, but because you just plain fuckin’ are. I won’t have some manipulative bitch bringing you down, I won’t have another Savannah.”
Curling my lip, I grunt. “I ain’t Hawk. She ain’t Savannah. I don’t know much, but I can tell she’s suffered at the hands of that man, and if I could kill him again, I’d make it hurt.”
“She has, and she’s innocent as far as I can see. I needed to know though, you have a type, Wilder, and that type is rich, money-hungry, and stuck up their own ass.”
My lips twitch, because he’s fucking right. I can’t even argue with him. I do like stuck up the ass rich bitches, always have. I don’t know if it’s that, want what you can’t have thing or what, but I’ve always been attracted to them. Fuck, maybe I’m more of a masochist than I ever thought?
“Christ. What do I do with her now? I’m leaving in the morning.”
“It’s a good test, see what she can handle.”
Shaking my head, I lift my hand and run it through my hair as I close my eyes slowly, then open them again. Inhaling a deep breath, I lift my gaze to meet Dragon’s.
“I don’t do tests. I’m too old for that shit. She wants me, wants to stay, then she will. She wants to go, she’ll go. I’m not going to force a thing.”
“Seemed like you wanted to about a minute ago.”
I snort. “Yeah, maybe. Seems like the easy thing to do though, and I don’t want what’s easy when it comes to Leighton. I want what’s real.”
“Been about five minutes, brother. Have a feeling none of this shit is truly real yet.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Guess we’ll find out.”
“Like a test?”
Tilting my head to the side, I can’t help but let