Verek (Savage Kings MC - South Carolina #3) - Lane Hart Page 0,8
I say with mock enthusiasm, making a mental note to leave behind a letter for Charlotte, telling her I’m okay and that I appreciate all she’s done for me and am sorry for sneaking off like a teenager. She would never approve of me leaving with Verek, and of course if I told her, she would tell Roman.
Just to make sure I play the part, I turn to Roman at the head of the dinner table and ask, “Any names yet?”
“Still working on him,” he answers without meeting my eyes, which I have begun to notice means he’s lying. Roman thinks I’m too weak to handle seeking vengeance, while Verek understands that I need to be a part of it. I don’t think I would be able to pull the trigger or whatever it is he has in mind, but I have to be there. I need to see these men die, to know they can’t hurt me again.
“My appointment was good but emotionally exhausting, so I think I’m going to turn in early tonight,” I say as I get up and take my plate and glass of water to the sink.
“Are you sure? We have an Oreo pie for dessert,” Charlotte says, watching me over her shoulder.
“Save me a piece for tomorrow?” I ask with a forced smile.
“Absolutely,” Roman agrees. “Sleep well.”
“Good night,” Charlotte says.
“Night,” I reply before retreating to my room, shutting and locking my door. I don’t lock it because I don’t trust Roman and Charlotte. It’s just that I don’t trust that no one else will break into the house while I sleep, even with all of the security measures Roman has in place.
Shit! The motion-sensing camera outside could be a problem. I’ll just have to go out the back and take the long way around the house to try and avoid it.
Quietly, I grab my big leather purse from the closet and tuck away my wallet, phone, a change of clothes, and my pajamas before zipping it up. Remembering that I’ll need my toothbrush, I hurry to the bathroom and use the toilet, then brush my teeth before tucking my toothbrush and hairbrush under my shirt as I head back to my room.
Once I’m packed and ready to go, my handwritten letter for Charlotte lying on my pillow, I sit on the edge of the mattress and then listen intently to Roman and Charlotte moving around the house. I hear their muffled voices and soft sounds coming from the television until around eleven thirty when the house is finally quiet. I wait another ten minutes just to be certain, and then I make my way out of my bedroom with my big purse, tiptoeing out the back door. Being outside alone in the darkness would usually terrify me, but I know Verek is just down the street, close enough to hear me if I scream.
I take the long way around through the neighbor’s backyard, not caring if they see me on their security camera, and then finally loop back around to the sidewalk that runs along the front of the houses. Under the streetlight at the corner, I spot Verek straddling his bike. His handsome face is lit up from the screen of the phone he’s holding in his hand.
“Hey,” I call out softly to get his attention.
He looks up and then turns the phone around to light the ground for me. “Hey,” he replies as I approach. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
“Absolutely,” I tell him. “I know Roman thinks it would be traumatic for me to go through with this, but what they did to me was the traumatic part. Seeing them die will be therapeutic.”
“Not exactly something you can discuss with your psychiatrist, though,” Verek jokes with a smile.
“No. Of course not. It’ll be our secret,” I assure him. “Well, until Roman finds out. Aren’t you afraid of what he’ll do to you?”
“Nah,” he says, brushing off any worries. “It’ll be worth it.”
“Hopefully,” I agree. “We should probably get out of here before they notice I’m gone.”
“You’re actually excited about this trip,” Verek says in surprise when I hand him my purse to squeeze into the saddlebag of his Harley.
“I haven’t been out of the house much after being cooped up in the facility for two months. Well, except for sitting around the safe house that one day. I think a road trip will do me good. And I know I’m safe with you,” I say, eyeing the bulge under the