Page 51 of Caged Hunger

Staring out into his backyard from the kitchen window, Basher took a sip of his coffee and contemplated his life. Ever since being released from prison, his life had been one unexpected surprise after another.

First was his move to Baton, New Mexico. Well, it wasn’t exactly a voluntary move—more of an ordered transfer from his boss. Being exiled to a place where absolutely nothing happened.

It wasn’t that he was complaining. He was actually starting to enjoy the quieter, simpler life.

Plus, there were a few unexpected perks he hadn’t seen coming—one of them being a five-foot-nine, sexy-as-hell bartender with the appetite of a young buck and a smile that never seemed to fade… not even when the little creep was sleeping. It was like watching a golden retriever sleep, cuddled up into his body, smiling with his tongue hanging out as he snored.

Oh, sorry. Gays didn’t snore—they purred, according to Cameron.

Still, Basher wondered whether he would ever return to Vegas. Would Bradly, his boss and the leader of the Death Cruisers MC, ever tell him that it was safe to return home?

Part of him missed the guys from the Death Cruisers. They were like annoying brothers who always had his back.

Yeah, he was starting to bond with the guys in the Shadow Vipers, but they weren’t family. Not really. They hadn’t welcomed him with open arms—they had just opened their side door and told him he could hide out with them until the coast was clear.

That, right there, was the difference.

Well, what about Cameron? That voice in his head pressed as he stared out at the firepit where they’d had their first real connection.

Cameron was different. Somehow, he'd slipped past all of Basher's defenses and quietly worked his way into his heart. More than anything, Basher admired the boy's compassion. Cameron genuinely cared about people. He always made sure everyone felt included in a conversation, never talking down to anyone or treating them as though they were beneath him. In Cameron's eyes, everyone deserved the same kindness and respect, and that was something Basher had rarely encountered in his life.

Basher hated to admit it, but he was really starting to fall for the guy.

That was the problem with men like Basher. They didn't love lightly. They loved with a terrifying intensity that most people couldn't understand.

Some called it possessiveness.

Others called it protectiveness.

Basher called it caring.

Once someone earned a place in his heart, they were his responsibility. Their safety, their happiness, their well-being—he carried it all without complaint. And God help the poor bastard who tried to hurt someone he loved, because Basher wouldn't stop until the threat was gone.

Speaking of which, he wanted to do something nice for the guy. Take Cameron somewhere special and show him just how much he means to him.

But what to do?

Romance and charm weren’t exactly his strong suits.

His cell phone rang on the counter.

Glancing at the screen, he saw his boss’s name and immediately felt his stomach drop. It was either good news or bad. Which was he hoping to hear?

Snatching his cell, he slid his finger across the screen and accepted the call.

“Hey, boss, how’s it going?”

“Hey, Bash! How’s it going? We all miss you out here.”

“Yeah, I miss you guys too. Is it safe to come home?”

His boss went quiet for a moment, seeming to collect his thoughts. “Not yet, buddy. We’re still picking up whispers about the Caplan crew. They’re sweeping the state, trying to flush you out.”

Damnit. He should just head to Vegas and kill them all himself. Eliminate the threat, and then he would be free to return home.

“Fine. I hear ya. I’ll stay where I am and keep my nose down.”

“Thata boy. Help Marcus with whatever runs or crew business he might need help with. It will be good for the two crews to work together and shit.”