Page 14 of Vengeance

"I know,” she whispered. "But I do it anyway."

"He wouldn't want that,” Vengeance insisted.

"You didn't know him,” she reminded.

He smiled faintly. He wanted to tell her that he knew Savage and knew what kind of person he was, but that might give too much of himself away—and he couldn’t let that happen. He needed to keep his secret until he knew she was safe. "I knew the kind of man he was,” he whispered, giving her a partial truth.

She wiped at her eyes. "He would've liked you."

The words hit harder than any punch could have, and he looked away. "I doubt that."

She stepped closer. "My dad had a way of seeing the good in people." He knew that was the truth. Savage had seen something in a scared teenage boy twenty years ago. He'd stepped between Vengeance and a group of older Dragons who'd beaten him nearly to death for refusing to participate in one of Dante's trafficking runs. Savage hadn't asked his name, and he hadn't asked what club he belonged to. He'd simply saved him, and that one act of kindness had changed everything for him.

"I owe him more than I can ever repay,” he admitted.

She smiled. "That's why you're doing this."

"Yeah,” he said.

She reached into the pocket of her hoodie. "I found this in the saddlebag." His stomach dropped as she held up an old silver Zippo. It was his—the one thing he'd never let anyone touch. Engraved across the front were three words.Never Like Him.

Her brow furrowed. "What does this mean?" He stared at the lighter. Damn it. He'd forgotten it was in his saddlebag.

"It's a reminder,” he said carefully.

"Of what?" she asked.

He swallowed. "That I never want to become my father."

She looked at him for a long moment. "You really hate your father."

More than you'll ever know. "Yeah."

"He hurt you." It wasn't a question.

Vengeance nodded once. "He hurt a lot of people."

She gently handed the lighter back. "I'm sorry." His fingers brushed hers as he took it, and neither of them pulled away immediately. For just a second, neither of them remembered they were running for their lives.

The moment shattered when Vengeance heard it—a faint engine, farther down the logging road. He froze, and Chloe immediately noticed. "What’s wrong?” she asked. He held up one finger when he heard another engine, followed by another. They weren’t motorcycles but SUVs.

His blood ran cold. "They found us."

Her eyes widened. "I thought you said they lost us."

"They should have." He was already pulling his pistol, which meant only one thing. Someone had told the men tracking them exactly where to look. There was a leak in Savage Hell, and if the Black Veil Syndicate already knew the route to the WestVirginia safe house, then someone inside the Royal Bastards had betrayed Bowie.

Chloe

The look on Vengeance's face terrified Chloe more than the sound of the approaching SUVs. He didn't panic or curse. He simply—changed. Every ounce of warmth she'd begun to see over the last few hours disappeared behind something cold and calculated. His pistol was already in his hand.

"Get on the bike,” he ordered.

"What?" she asked.

"Now,” he shouted. She didn't argue. Something in his voice told her that this wasn't the time for questions. She climbed onto the Harley just as headlights appeared through the trees. Chloe counted three—no, four black SUVs. They bounced along the logging road, and her stomach dropped.

"I thought you said there were three,” she breathed.