NINETEEN

Seychelle walked to her cottage. She needed to feel the fresh sea air on her skin and listen to the roar of the waves as they raced to the bluffs and crashed against them. She had purchased the house on the narrow road across from the headlands because she liked the privacy and the close proximity to the ocean.

She detoured and took a path through the tall grass leading to the bluffs. The grass rippled with the wind, bending and swaying as if dancing to the sound of the waves as they rushed the rocks. The wildness of this coast appealed to her. The Southern California coast was warmer and so much more predictable, but here there were rip currents and undertows, and the water was cold and crazy rough.

She wrapped her arms around herself and walked slowly along the path she’d taken hundreds of times. It was narrow and all sandy dirt. Gulls screamed and dove at the water or circled the sea stacks before settling and folding their wings. Some of the birds squabbled in the air, making her want to laugh.

She loved Sea Haven and her little home here. She’d come here at her lowest, when she knew she was going to die. She’d been so exhausted, barely able to stand most of the time. Walking to the bluffs had become her first goal, and then to the town of Sea Haven. She couldn’t believe how far she’d come, how much stronger she’d gotten. How much happier she was.

She lifted her gaze to the sky and the seagulls again. Savage made her happy. There was no doubt about that. He made her feel as if she wasn’t alone when she’d been so terribly lonely even in the middle of a crowd. Truthfully, when she’d tried to date and hadn’t reacted at all to any man kissing her or touching her, she’d felt as if she wasn’t normal. So why was she upset that she was reacting to him and his brand of sex? Why did she have to question everything good that came her way?

She turned back toward her house and began to walk slowly. She still could die very young. Just because she was feeling stronger and she was with Savage didn’t mean her heart was suddenly better. She hadn’t gone to a doctor. They hadn’t actually been successful at stopping her from taking on an illness, because they hadn’t tried yet. She still wanted to live life to the fullest, experience everything she could. She didn’t want to miss anything. Why was she suddenly thinking about retreating from Savage? It made no sense. She was panicking, just the way she always did.

She put her hand over the ring he’d had made for her. She was looking up the diamond when she got home. She’d never seen one like that. She knew Ice was a famous jeweler, although few knew he was a biker, just that his pieces were sought-after. She was certain that if anyone knew he was a biker, it would make the demand for his jewelry skyrocket.

Savage and she had just moved so fast, she felt like she couldn’t catch her breath. She was a processor. She liked to think about things. She wasn’t impulsive, as a rule. She liked the way they’d been at the beginning of their relationship, when she could lie on the bed with him and not worry about what was coming next and how fast she’d have to get there. At least, that was what she told herself, because it was so much easier than facing the truth.

Seychelle didn’t want to have to figure out why she’d been born the way she was. Or if not born with those little dark corners, why she’d developed them. How deep did they go? Could she stop before she got into territory that was beyond what she thought was too much? How much was too much? How did she even answer those questions? She needed to go into her haven of safety, sit in her favorite spot on the bed and just let herself meditate. Maybe the answer would come.

The house was cool and shadowy when she unlocked the front door and stepped inside. All the shades were drawn over the windows. She frowned, wondering if Savage had pulled them down so people couldn’t see in while they were at the other house. She’d never done that. She had live plants in the house, and they thrived on light. She went to the window closest to the door and raised that shade.

It wasn’t like her cottage was large. The rooms flowed into one another, and when she turned and looked straight from the cozy living room to her kitchen, her breath caught in her throat. Facing her, seated at the table as if he belonged there, was Joseph Arnold. There was a gun in front of him, just lying there on the kitchen table, right within his reach.

“You’re home.” He sounded strange, like a lover welcoming her back after a long absence.

Seychelle’s mouth went dry, and she glanced at the door. She was only a few feet from it. Could she make it out? She had no idea why, but she knew with absolute certainty he had come there to kill her. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. I didn’t think you’d ever get back. Those old ladies take up far too much of your time, Seychelle. You’re always helping them when you should be paying attention to your duties here at home,” Joseph scolded.

A million things ran through her mind at top speed. She’d read about stalkers when Joseph Arnold had first begun turning up at every venue she’d sung at. Then small things disappeared from her home. She’d talked to a police officer in San Francisco. The officer had been kind but explained that Arnold hadn’t really done anything that could be construed as threatening at that point. Once he identified himself as a music scout, he appeared to be trying to help her. The cop believed her, but still said with regret that there was nothing they could do. They couldn’t catch him at anything.

Seychelle had tried to be very clear with each encounter she’d had with Joseph that she wasn’t interested, but it never seemed to faze him. He kept following her everywhere she went. She’d thought after Savage’s rather violent reaction, he would stop, but he didn’t. There he sat, right at her kitchen table, as if he owned the place—and her. He acted as if he thought they were in a relationship.

She walked farther into the room, going to the next window and raising the shade. “You know something? You’re right. I do spend way too much time with all of them. I feel so bad for them. Most of them are completely alone in the world. I sort their medications out for them and make certain they have groceries, but I do stay too long. It tires me out.”

Deliberately, she walked past him to enter the bedroom. It was easy to see into the room, and again she went straight to the window and raised the shade. “I thought I’d change my clothes really quick. I like to get comfortable in the evenings. Are you hungry? I was going to make myself a salad.”

She went to the dresser, pulled off the engagement ring and placed it in the top drawer. Right there, she exchanged the top she wore for a long sweater. The sweater went almost to her knees. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she removed her shoes and then went back over to the dresser to shimmy out of her jeans. As she did, she grabbed her phone and hit the contact number of the last person she’d called—Savage.

“Joseph. Did you want a salad?” She pulled on leggings and slipped the phone into the pocket as she called to the intruder loudly.

When she looked in at him, he had the refrigerator open and was staring at the contents. Very slowly he turned back to her, his face flushed, eyes narrowed. “Why do you have a steak marinating in here? You’re a vegetarian.”

“Doris was coming over. She wasn’t feeling very good—one of her migraines coming on—so she gave me a rain check. Why?” She walked straight over to the table where he’d been sitting and stared in feigned horror at the gun. “Oh my God, Joseph, you brought a gun into my house. Is it loaded? Why did you bring that here? You know I hate guns. Get it out of my sight right now.” She started to cry, backing away from the table, hands in the air. “Why did you bring that in here? Just go. That was so mean of you. You know guns freak me out. Go, get out of the house and take that horrid thing with you.”

Seychelle turned and ran into the bedroom and flung herself on the bed, crawling up it to the headboard, pulling the sheet over her so she could hide the cell phone. Hopefully, Savage was hearing every single dramatic word. She put her face in her hands and sobbed. It wasn’t that hard to do. She really was scared. She just didn’t cry in loud, heaving wails that could wake the dead, as a rule.

Joseph came into the room a few minutes later, looking around and then dropping into the chair in the corner of the room. “It’s all right now, Seychelle. Stop crying. It’s gone. I’ve put it away.”

“It’s still in the house. I know it is. I didn’t hear the door open. Go put it in your car, or on the porch. I don’t want it inside my house.” She hiccupped and sobbed in between each word.

“That’s unreasonable. If you can’t see it . . .”

She cried harder and shook her head. “Why are you here? You ruined everything. I thought we could eat together and just have a nice time, but you had to bring that horrid thing into my house for no reason. I mean it, Joseph, get it out of here.”

She kept her head down, face in one hand, but with the other she mopped the tears with the hem of the sheet. She really wanted Joseph to take the gun outside. If Savage and his brothers from Torpedo Ink showed up, she didn’t want bullets flying.

Why hadn’t she thought to call 911? It hadn’t even occurred to her. She had automatically turned to Savage for help.

“Seychelle.” Joseph’s tone was sharp. Nasally. His temper was beginning to fray. “Stop crying. You can’t see the gun. I put it in a drawer, out of sight.”

She didn’t want to take a chance on making him angry with her. As slowly as she thought she could get away with it, she lowered the sheet from her face and dashed at the tears with her palm. With the other hand she made certain to turn the phone over, so the speaker was facing upward. Savage was her lifeline, and she knew he would come. She knew it. That told her everything she needed to know about her relationship with him.

She might have uncertainties about herself, but she wasn’t unsure of Savage. He was never going to let her down. He came to her visits with her elderly friends and went out of his way to make sure their homes were safe for them. He didn’t like talking but went out of his comfort zone to be charming. He told her ahead of time what to expect and made everything her choice. He gave her adventures she would never have on her own, and she loved them even if sometimes she was scared. Savage would come because she could count on him. That was an absolute certainty.

“Are you certain I won’t come across it when I’m making our salads? I have to get out utensils.” She was careful to keep a wobble in her voice. She risked a quick look at his face, not wanting to take things too far but needing to stall. How long did it take to get from Caspar to Sea Haven on the Harleys? Ten minutes? Less? Five? She had to think in terms of longer. The longest. What if they had gone out of town? The club did that sometimes, and when it was club business, Savage didn’t tell her.

“Make the salad for us, Seychelle. You won’t find it, but if you get close, I’ll warn you and get whatever you need out of the drawer for you.”

She wiped her face again and nodded. “Thank you.” She forced herself to slip off the bed and walk on bare feet right past him.

Joseph turned to follow her. He was so close she could smell him. His drug of choice was cocaine, and that, mingled with his natural body odor, sickened her. She coughed delicately into her elbow and kept walking. In the kitchen he toed a chair around, straddled it and stared at her with a little smirk on his face.

“Tell me what those old ladies had to say that was so exciting you were late getting home. I saw Inez; she’s such a busybody.”

Seychelle retrieved the items she would need to make a salad from the refrigerator. She took her time, still stalling. Still hoping. “Why do you say that? Has she said something to you?”

Joseph glared at her. “Said she noticed I was always watching you.”

“She never said a word to me.” Inez hadn’t, and she should have. “I hope you told her you worked in the music industry and were just trying to find a way to help me be successful.”

He watched her wash all the vegetables before spinning the lettuce to get it dry. “You don’t want to be successful; that’s why you always quit.”

She sighed and half turned to face him, as if in resignation. “I don’t like to admit it, even to myself, but my health isn’t very good, and after a while, singing in bars is exhausting. I went to a doctor, and he told me if I kept it up, I wouldn’t live very long.”

Joseph’s face darkened into a scowl. His eyes narrowed to twin points of blazing anger. “If that’s true, why would you sing in that biker bar?”

Where the hell were her rescuers? How long had it been? It felt like a million years had gone by. She took a deep breath and let it out, striving for a normal voice. “You know I love to sing. Did you hear that band? I’ve never, not once in my life, had the opportunity to sing with a band like that. It was amazing. The good thing is that they don’t play on a regular basis. I wouldn’t have to commit to singing every weekend. I could pick and choose when I felt up to it. They’re kind of laid-back that way.” She poured enthusiasm into her voice.

“Are you fucking them?” He spat the words at her.

She let the silence stretch between them for a long time. “That’s just insulting. I’m not going to talk to you, Joseph, if you’re going to be ugly like that.”

He stood up, kicked the chair out of the way and caught her by the arm, fingers biting into flesh. She smashed the salad bowl right into the bridge of his nose as hard as she could and slammed the ball of her foot into his upper thigh, hoping to give him a dead leg. The moment he let go, she drove her foot into his groin and turned and ran to the front door.

Joseph dropped to the floor with a roar of rage and pain. Seychelle hesitated for a moment, thinking to go back and look for his gun, but decided she’d be crazy to waste what little time she’d bought herself. She flung the door open and ran outside. Her car was in the garage. The door was closed, and sometimes it took a few minutes to warm her baby up. She knew she wouldn’t have that kind of time, so she just ran straight down the road toward Sea Haven.

Already, she could hear the sound of vehicles coming toward her. Not the reassuring roar of pipes. Torpedo Ink hadn’t wanted Joseph to hear them coming. Then Savage had her in his arms, holding her close. Tight. Very tight.

“Did he hurt you, baby?”

There was something very deadly in his voice—in his eyes when she looked up at him. “He’s got a gun,” she whispered. “Savage, don’t do anything crazy. We should just call the cops. He isn’t worth it.”

“We don’t call the cops, Seychelle.”

He handed her off to Ice and turned toward the house with a dark menace in every step. Behind him, Maestro and Keys prowled, looking every bit as grim. Mechanic drove a truck with dark, forbidding windows.

“Ice.” She started to follow the others.

“Sorry, honey, you’re not going with them. You’re going to stay out of the way and let your man handle this the way he has to.”

“You don’t understand, Joseph has a gun. He put it in one of the drawers in my house. I should have stayed inside and looked for it.” She was all but wringing her hands together.

Ice guided her off the main road. Once off the road and facing the house, she saw two other Torpedo Ink members, Destroyer and Storm, at the back door.

“It’s locked,” she whispered.

“We put in the locks,” he reminded her. “There are all kinds of stalkers, Seychelle. His kind don’t stop. He fantasizes he’s in a relationship with you, and that makes him dangerous. You aren’t on the same page with him. One misstep and he will kill you. They would lock him up for a short while and then he’d be right back.”

Seychelle was well aware Ice was telling the truth. Joseph had been following her around for a long time. He kept approaching her in different guises, trying to get her to go out with him. He seemed to have dropped the music scout this time and believed himself in a relationship with her. He had sunk into a delusion she wanted no part of.

His car was parked to the right of her house. She recognized the nice little sport coupe he was very proud of. He had talked about his car in San Francisco and how nice it was. What a luxury car, yet sporty. It was a pretty color, she would hand him that, but she wasn’t a car person. She wouldn’t know the make and model of any car, if the truth was told. One of the Torpedo Ink members, Transporter, slid inside and drove the car off, headed south.

There was a sharp whistle, and Storm and Destroyer disappeared inside. Then Savage, Maestro and Keys went in through the front door. A muffled gunshot made her jump, but Ice was unfazed. He just stood there, watching the cottage, keeping her in the brush several yards from the house.

Her heart began to thud hard as the front door banged open, and from her vantage point, she could see Savage emerging, dragging Joseph by his arms. Joseph was trying to struggle, but it was a half-hearted attempt. Destroyer came through the door, let Joseph’s legs drag for a minute, then reached down and picked them up by the ankles. The two men carried him to the truck, where Mechanic waited patiently behind the wheel, apparently listening to music.

Savage opened a door to the back passenger seat, easily flung Joseph inside and then bent in after him. Destroyer was at the other door and also leaned in.

“What are they doing to him?” Seychelle asked.

“Just restraining him so he can’t move while Mechanic takes him to the clubhouse. We’re going to have a little talk with him. Savage has a lot to say and some questions to ask him. Then he’s going away. We don’t want anyone seeing him. You didn’t see him today. Fortunately, he didn’t tell anyone he was coming to see you, mostly because he came here to kill you today.”

“Why would he want to kill me?” Seychelle turned her gaze up to Ice’s. But she knew it was true. She’d known it the moment she saw the gun.

“Because his delusional fantasy isn’t working for him anymore, and when it doesn’t work, he kills his victim and moves on,” Ice explained. “He’s been clever enough to make certain there’s not enough evidence to point to him. We’ve had Code looking into him.”

“What’s Savage going to do?” she whispered, dread filling her.

“What he should have done the first time he found that man in your house, stealing your things. You asked him not to and he spared him,” Ice explained. “That was a big fucking mistake, Seychelle. You could be dead right now, and he knows it. That would have been on him.”

She shook her head. “No, it would have been on me, not him. Joseph is sick. He needs help. Savage was showing compassion.”

Ice snorted his derision. “Savage was showing you he loves you and giving you something he shouldn’t have. He doesn’t have an ounce of compassion for someone like Joseph Arnold. Once they cross the line and kill an innocent, there’s no going back.”

She shook her head. “He can’t live with that kind of thing on his conscience day in and day out, Ice. You all expect too much of him.”

She watched as both doors slammed shut and Mechanic took off with his prisoner. Savage and Destroyer walked back toward her with Maestro and Keys. Savage looked grim. The lines in his face were cut deep. His eyes were colder than she’d ever seen them as he strode back to her.

“Babe, there’s some things you have to know about your man. For things like this, when it comes to vermin like that, he doesn’t have a conscience,” Ice said.

Savage came right up to her, grasped her by the shoulders and started her toward her cottage. “Get what you need, Seychelle, to bring to the other house. I have some work to do tonight, and I don’t know how long it’s going to take. The other house is more secure, and I’ll leave you there with a guard.”

“Now that you have Joseph, don’t you think it’s safe for me here?” Something told her not to push him, but she didn’t want to go back to his place yet. He might feel as if his home was far safer for her, but she didn’t necessarily feel that way about it.

His grip tightened on her and he continued to walk her toward her home. “Babe, just please do as I ask. Scared the holy fuck out of me when I heard your voice on the phone and then you said the word gun. We just sounded the alarm and raced out of there as fast as we could. Gotta get you home, where I know you’re safe.”

Her house looked the same. Felt the same. Like home. It didn’t feel as if a madman had taken it over. Lettuce was all over the kitchen floor, and she bent to pick up the bowl. Savage took it from her.

“I’ll clean this up. You put a few things together for a couple of nights. We’ll stay at my place and talk things out. Come back here after.”

Seychelle didn’t bother to argue with him, especially since he was wearing that implacable look on his face and his eyes were not only glacier cold but flat and dead inside. She knew no matter what she said, she wasn’t going to get her way. This was one of those times he’d warned her about.

She pulled out clothes and pushed them into a small overnight bag. Her ring was in the top drawer under her leggings, where she’d shoved it. She slipped it back on her finger, needing the reassurance of it and not understanding why. Savage seemed distant from her, even though he was right there, dictating to her. The weight of the ring on her finger made her feel instantly closer to him, and she needed that when she already was so uncertain.

In her small bathroom, she collected a few personal items, but she actually had most things already duplicated. Savage had thought of just about anything she could need or want at the other house. She mostly took things she wanted for familiarity. She nearly took the rose sculpture with her parents’ ashes, but this was her home, and she wanted it there. She did bring her mother’s hairbrush.

Savage stood by the door with the other Torpedo Ink members, and it took a little courage to walk up to him. The men were intimidating, and she really didn’t know them all that well yet.

“I’m ready. I can drive my car. Do you want to ride with me, or do you have your bike with you?”

He reached down and caught her left hand, bringing it up so he could see the ring. His thumb slid over it. Of course he would have noticed that it was missing. He looked at her, clearly waiting for an explanation.

“I took it off so he wouldn’t notice it. He was acting so weird, and I thought it best to just go along with whatever he said and stall as long as possible.”

“Smart woman,” Ice said. “Too fuckin’ smart for you, Savage. Knew it the minute I laid eyes on her.”

Savage kissed her knuckles, then the ring. “I’ll drive you home and then head to the clubhouse. Ice and Soleil will stay with you until I come home. It will be late, baby, so they’ll probably stay in one of the guest rooms. Alena’s going to send over dinner.”

Seychelle lifted her chin. “I’m capable of cooking for a guest.” She was capable of driving her own car as well, but she wasn’t telling him that, not in front of his “brothers.”

He reached around her, caught up her overnight bag and left it to Ice to lock up her cottage as Savage led the way to the garage. “Babe, I’m sticking you with guests for the night and asking you to stay at a house you don’t want to stay in.” He opened the back door of her car and tossed her overnight bag in with a little more force than necessary. “I’m trying to make things easier on you. I didn’t want you to have to go grocery shopping on top of everything else.”

She yanked her seat belt around her and waited for him to adjust the driver’s seat in order to be able to get behind the wheel. “You didn’t want me to go grocery shopping,” she clarified.

He sent her a chilling look as he started the car. “You’re right, I would prefer that you not go anywhere until I know there aren’t any other threats to you. At the same time, I don’t want you to have to cook for unexpected guests.”

She stared out the window as he easily handled the car, taking it along the highway toward Caspar. “I’m just out of sorts. I have been all day. Crazy person with gun trying to kill me in my house might have put me in a bad mood on top of everything else. Just saying. I’m a processor. I just need a little time to get a handle on all this.” She did her best not to burst into tears.

Savage ran his finger down her cheek. “I know this is hard for you, Seychelle. I’ll come home the minute I can, and I know it’s important you have some alone time. Ice and Soleil will go to the guest room long before I’ll make it home tonight. They’re used to being alone. She could use a friend, though. She doesn’t come to the clubhouse very often with the other women.”

“I’ll be happy to visit with her,” she assured him, not really meaning it but knowing she would do it. She pushed back her hair and then reached out her hand, needing the physical connection with him.

Savage immediately engulfed her smaller hand in his and pressed it to the heavy muscle of his thigh. “We’re going to be fine, Seychelle. We’re new, and I get that can be scary.”

Seychelle nodded. There was little doubt in her mind that any new relationship could be frightening at the time, but hers was more than that if she thought too much about it. On the other hand, did she really want to be without Savage? She looked up at him. She had been alone without him. Lonely. She hadn’t felt alive. Or beautiful. She certainly didn’t know what it was like to be loved so intensely. Savage made her feel as if she belonged with him. She just didn’t know how to fit into his world. There were so many things she questioned, and she didn’t have anyone she could talk things over with.

Savage pulled the Mini Cooper into the garage and parked it. “Babe, for me, just leave everything for tonight. I’ll be home in the morning, and we can talk then. I promise you, I can make things better.” He turned her hand up to the warmth of his mouth, kissing her fingers.

Seychelle nodded. “I can do that, Savage.” She wasn’t leaving him, she knew that much. She wanted to work things out, but it wasn’t with him, it was in her own mind. She had to find some kind of balance she could live with. “About Joseph . . .”

Savage shook his head. “We aren’t going to talk about him. Arnold is no longer your business. He’s mine. Go into the house, babe. Try to forget everything bothering you and just enjoy Soleil. She’s very sweet, and she hasn’t had the best life.” He leaned into her and then brushed a kiss onto her forehead before sliding out of the car, one hand retrieving her overnight bag. Once he rounded the hood, he handed her the bag and indicated the door leading to the house from the huge garage.

Seychelle didn’t look back. Savage was already somewhere else in his head. He was at the clubhouse, or wherever they’d taken Joseph Arnold.

She put her overnight case against the wall in the hall leading to the master bedroom and went to meet with her guests. Ice was in the great room with his wife, Soleil, his arm around her, looking protective. Ice was a gorgeous man, with the same platinum hair Alena had and startling crystal-blue eyes. He had three tears dripping down from his left eye tattooed on his face. Soleil was a beautiful woman, and every time she tilted her chin up to look at her husband, her face lit up.

“Soleil, this is Seychelle, Savage’s old lady. She’s new to the club and could use a friend. I thought the two of you could get to know one another. I can get some drinks together if you’d like.”

Soleil smiled at her. “It’s nice to meet you. Ice has talked about you so much.” She indicated the ring on Seychelle’s finger. “I really loved watching him make the ring for you. Getting that stone was difficult, but Savage had his heart set on it, and fortunately, Ice has amazing connections.”

Seychelle held up her hand to look at the ring. It really was unique and beautiful. She had never seen a stone like the one in her ring. “It’s so beautiful. He surprised me with it. I always called him my fake fiancé, and now I can’t. The Red Hat ladies loved it when I did that.”

Seychelle indicated the chairs by the stone fireplace that went from the floor to the ceiling. The glass wall gave them an incredible view of the ocean. She really did love the house. And her ring. Everything Savage gave her seemed to have been chosen so it would fit for her.

“Do you make the jewelry with Ice?”

“I draw pieces sometimes, but he really does the work. He’s amazing. I paint. That’s always been my big dream, and Ice is really encouraging me to pursue it. Until he came along, I’d never had a family, and I was very lonely. Now the club is my family and Ice is my everything.”

Soleil looked in the direction Ice had disappeared. She lowered her voice. “I still can’t believe it’s true sometimes. I can’t believe he loves me. I never had that growing up, and I keep expecting him to throw me away, but he doesn’t. He wouldn’t be too happy hearing I still get doubts about us.”

Seychelle sank back in the chair, grateful for the soothing properties Savage had told her Lana somehow put into furniture she chose for them. “Isn’t it funny how we all have insecurities? I look at you and think you’re so beautiful. Ice thinks you’re incredibly talented. Savage told me you’re sweet and kind. But somehow you expect to be thrown away because you’re conditioned to think that.”

“What is your insecurity, Seychelle?” Soleil asked softly.

Seychelle regarded her in silence for a long time, but Soleil didn’t push. Outside, the waves rushed toward the bluff and crashed against them, spraying white foam and mist high into the air. She felt a little like that water, worn out and tossed into the sky to fly apart.

“That I’ll fail him. And I’ll fail myself.” She looked at Soleil, shocked that she’d told a perfect stranger something she hadn’t even told herself. “I think about running away all the time. There are so many reasons for running.”

Soleil nodded. “I know that feeling. I was going to run. I was so afraid he was going to break my heart. I just couldn’t let that happen. The silly thing was, if I left, my heart would break anyway. I love Ice. I know that I love him. I just couldn’t convince myself that he could really love me.”

“No one stays, Soleil. They don’t. No matter what you do or how hard you try, what you give of yourself, they die. They get sick and die. Or they do really dangerous things and die. Or they leave.” She pushed back her hair and tried a smile. “I don’t even know what I’m saying or thinking anymore. I don’t know where this is coming from. I’ve been out of sorts lately, and I can’t seem to get back on track. It didn’t help that a madman was out at my house with a gun today to kill me, and Savage and the others just went right in as if it was nothing.” She apparently was upset about a lot of things. It was lucky she hadn’t blurted out she liked to have her sex with pain and pleasure mixed together and had no idea why. She was very confused.

Soleil nodded. “I get what you’re saying. When I was young, the only aunt I had who wanted me died. Then my life was pretty awful. The only constant I had was a lawyer who I didn’t really see in person, but I still loved him because he was the only person who seemed to care. He was murdered. So yeah, I get that. And when Ice goes off with the club to do something dark and mysterious I’m not allowed to know about, I sit on our upstairs bedroom balcony in this rocking chair I have, and I wait for him there. Sometimes he’s gone for days. I can’t eat or sleep. I just sit there. The only time I get up is to use the bathroom. I feel sick and afraid and alone. It’s like living in hell. I can’t paint. I can barely breathe.”

Seychelle drew in a deep breath and sat up straight, her fingers closing in a tight fist, pressing over her thudding heart. “He doesn’t know you do that, does he?”

Soleil shook her head. “I would never tell him. What would be the use? He can’t change who he is or what he does. He’s Torpedo Ink, and I love him, so I love Torpedo Ink. He’s worth those terrible days that I have to wait in fear. It took me time to come to terms with that. Those fears are real because I know I could lose him. The fears I manufacture are silly, and I work to overcome them all the time.”

“Savage does dangerous things all the time and he won’t talk about them to me.” Seychelle couldn’t tell Soleil that she sometimes caught glimpses of things she wasn’t meant to see. If Savage ever did those things and came near her too soon, she would see everything, just as she had when he’d been with Shari.

“Does the danger bother you, or the fact that he won’t discuss it with you?” Soleil asked.

Seychelle considered that. “Both. I like to know what I’m getting into. I want to hear about it and take time to think it through.”

“If it’s their business and not yours, then why should you know about it? If you had a business, would you want Savage to insist you tell him every detail?”

Seychelle thought that over. “I would hope he would be interested in everything I did and would want to talk about it with me. I wouldn’t want him to interfere or tell me how to run my business, but I would definitely want him to be interested enough to talk about it with me.” She tilted her head and studied Soleil. “You’re interested in Ice’s jewelry business. He’s interested in your paintings. Do you both talk about each other’s work together?”

Soleil smiled at her. “We do. I see your point, but neither of those things are club business.” She drummed her fingers on her thigh and then indicated Seychelle’s engagement ring. “Savage chose that stone himself. It was a huge deal to him. He spent hours going over stones with Ice, talking to him about your eyes and how he wanted the exact color, and the stone had to be unique and special. He didn’t care about the money. Apparently, he rarely spends money. This house, because all of them were told they needed to have a home. He chose this place because he thought you would love it. But the stone, for him, was important, because he wanted you to know that he sees you. The heart of you. That’s what he said to Ice. He said you were his angel and you have a pure heart. He sees all of you. That’s a fancy teal-blue flawless diamond. Very hard to come by. The diamonds surrounding it are unique as well. And of course, Ice’s design gives the ring added flair. What I’m telling you is, that man loves you, Seychelle, and he’s trying, in the only way he knows how, to tell you.”