Skirt (Ruthless Kings MC #5) - K.L. Savage Page 0,17

in the bed earlier. He was real. He jumps down the stairs, and I turn left to bolt when he holds up his hands. “Aye, now. Wait. Just hold on a minute. No one here is going to hurt ye, okay?” he says in an accent I’m not familiar with. It’s similar to Cohen’s but different. Scottish, maybe?

With every long stride he takes, his black boots get too close for comfort. I notice is how gorgeous he is. He has red hair and a beard to match. He has his hair half up, half down. He’s wearing a black shirt that is tight across his body and the kilt, while different than anything I’ve ever seen before, looks damn good on him. He has tattoos up and down his arms and a silver sword hanging off his hip. I’m not sure what that is about, but I don’t want to find out.

“Please, I won’t tell anyone I was here. Let me go. I need to get to my son.”

“Dawn, we will get ye where ye need to be. I swear it, no one here is going to hurt you.”

The men in front of me are telling me something much different. Plus, what he’s saying, I’ve heard before.

I hate liars.

Chapter Four

SKIRT

Oh, shite. She looks like she’s about to run. I hope she doesn’t. I hate running in my kilt, especially when I’m wearing the sword. It’s just for show. I guess I could learn to wield it, use the sword instead of my fists, but it’s a family heirloom and whenever my brother is heavy on my mind, I clip the sword to my belt.

It was his first, since he was the oldest.

It has ruby gems on it with two chains dangling from the handle to the sheath. It’s expensive, not something to ruin with blood. My fists do just as much damage anyway.

“Ye don’t believe me. That’s okay. What do I need to do to prove it to ye?”

“Where am I? How did it get here?”

“Ye don’t remember?” I ask her with concern. This will be the second time we have told her. “We found ye in the desert. I almost hit ye with my bike. We brought ye here instead of the hospital because we didn’t know yer situation.” I take a step closer, and she moves down the fence, so I pause. I lay my palm against my chest. “I’m Skirt. Yer at the Ruthless Kings MC clubhouse. Yer on our property. We aren’t going to hurt ye.”

“I don’t believe you,” she says. Her words are a powerful blow to my chest. She doesn’t trust easily, that much is apparent. “Stay away from me. Don’t come closer.” Her fingers wrap around the bars of the gate and squeeze tight. Her eyes betray the fear her body is putting off in waves. Those green orbs hold a monster, and they are daring me to take another step.

I’ve always liked a good dare.

“Trust is earned. I get that,” I say. My hands are still up, showing that I’m not reaching for my weapon and she’s safe, just like I promised. The rocks crunch under my foot as I move closer.

Her jaw squeezes tight and the muscle jumps, reminding me of when Sarah doesn’t get her way with Reaper.

“Open the gate and let me out. Let me get to my son.”

“I can’t let that happen.” I’m finally in front of her, and now that I see her out in the natural light, everything about her calls to me. She’s fucking gorgeous. She does have strawberry blonde hair and the eyes the color of that cactus that destroyed my ass.

Bright green but fucking deadly.

“Then you’re not who I need to be speaking with, are you?” she sneers just as she throws her fist in the air, punching my jaw with a mean right hook.

Hells fucking bells, the woman packs a damn punch.

“Oh, shit! Skirt is getting is ass kicked!”

“ Get ’em little lady!”

“Aw, hell. This is better than sharpening my knife any day,” Tongue says.

I wipe my lip off with my thumb and see a bead of blood on my fingertip. I haven’t had someone draw blood from me in a very long time, and the fighter in me pushes against my skin, begging to get free. I crack my neck and when I lay my eyes on her again, her chin is jutted out and her shoulders are thrust back. “That wasn’t necessary, Lips. I’m not here to hurt you.” I