What Are We Going to Do

Savannah

If I have said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times before. Damon Henley is a douchebag.

“I have to go home, Damon. There is no way around it! I have to go. I am already in trouble for going to the club yesterday.

“My uncle gave me a police escort to my classes today. The only reason I wasn’t being watched when you came around is because I promised Dallas I would be good.

“Which I immediately turned around and lied to him, my uncle, and then I added sprinkles to the shit sandwich and made out with you in an alley and that got me shot!”

I pull on the roots of my hair and lay back on his bed.

It’s true. I need to go home, but fuck I am so tired and sore.

“You can’t go, Savannah. It’s not up to either of us. You are not allowed to leave yet.”

He looks just as stressed as I am. His own black locks had finger streaks in them, his head full of hair disheveled and messed up.

His hands still stained with my blood, even though we both have washed our hands ten times.

His boxers fit loose enough around my cheeks that it doesn’t hurt, but I have to wear them like some old man, up on my stomach.

“I have to go! Tell your dad I have to or my uncle is gonna put the entire town under quarantine and one by one he is going to search until he finds me.

“And if you think he would skip biker country, you are mistaken.”

I am already past the timeframe I gave. Completely missing my session with Reid.

My ass hurts. I am hungry and tired. This day is the worst hangover ever.

I wanted to be coddled and got the opposite.

This is bullshit to the highest degree.

A growl at the door for Damon to “open the fuck up” has both of us even more pissed off.

The towering figure of Damon’s father shifts through the doorway and struts into the bedroom with hate in his eyes as he looks at me on his son’s bed.

I don’t know what he was expecting.

First of all, I cleaned this damn bed, I’m going to lay in it whenever I want.

Secondly, I took two bullets for Damon, if I want to sit on this man’s face for the rest of my life, I’m going to.

And lastly, I got shot in the ass! I need to lay down!

“It’s nice to see you again, sir, I was just asking about you.”

King Lucien’s lips twitch almost into a smirk; so I can tell he was the one to pass that onto his kids.

“You’re going to call your pig, tell him you’re spending the night with one of your girlfriends.”

He tossed me my phone and snapped to it.

“So, I’m not going to do that.”

Slowly I move to stand on my feet.

“I wasn’t asking.”

“Okay. The answer is still no. Not to be a jerk, but your plan won’t work. I don’t have any girlfriends and I wouldn’t be allowed to, anyways.

“I’m in trouble at home. I need to leave. I’ll fake a migraine and some knee pain so I won’t be around my uncle. I’ll just fake it till I heal.”

He looked at me coldly before turning his attention to Damon.

“Hey, this is between you and me. I’m the one pissing in your Cheerios, not him.”

I do not like the way Lucien acts with Damon. It’s not like my dad or Uncle Jonah treats their sons.

“Listen close, girl. You are not leaving this room until I can confirm what happened. Call your uncle, tell him anything that will work and not raise eyebrows. Or I’ll take care of it.”

The threat in his eyes lingers.

“Like I told you before, I protect the people I care about. Damon isn’t the only one on that list.

“You’re not special if you think you will be spared for fucking with my family, breaking my rules, I can assure you. You’re not. I’ll figure this out.

“But get the fuck out of here with your threats, Luci.”

I stand tall, my finger on his chest as I stand my ground. Not Damon, not some bully at school, not even a king will dare lay a hand on the people I care about.

I actually get a smirk this time before he snaps the phone to tell me to make the call.

I curse under my breath and figure something out. My idea generator goes off and I quickly make my plans. Once I get a clear plan, I make my move.

Pressing the green phone icon on my home screen and picking Uncle Jonah’s name from my caller list was enough to make my palms sweat.

The three rings it took for him to answer were nerve-wracking.

“Hello Savannah, where the hell are you?”

“Hey my wonderful and loving, favorite Uncle Jonah. I miss you. I love you.”

Damon and Luci stand by me, listening and watching as if I’m going to scream: “Help I’m locked in Damon’s bedroom at the bar in biker country, send the SWAT team!”

“Where. Are. You. Savannah.” He doesn’t play along, which makes this worse.

“Uncle, before you freak out or tell me no, I need to explain.”

“Oh, what the fuck did you do now?”

He sighs and I do the same.

“In my group session that, B T dubs, you signed me up for—against my will might I add—there is a new girl, today was the first session for her.

“Her dad died and her mom is sick; she needs a sponsor and she’s worried about shit. I’m afraid for her. So I’m with her.

“Now before you say we can come home, we can’t. She is worried she’ll get in trouble and you being the deputy didn’t convince her.”

My Uncle Jonah takes a second and starts firing off questions in cop mode.

“What’s her name?”

“Katlynn.”

“Her last name.”

“Uhh…er. Well, I don’t know. It’s not like I care. She was crying and stuff.”

“What does she look like?”

“Like a girl? Uh, brown-haired. Slimmish, taller than me. In a pink shirt and white jeans shorts. Nice enough, just sad.”

“What grade?”

“Like I fucking know. Uncle Jonah, if this wasn’t important, you know I would be home. It’s not like I’ve ever done this before.”

He stays quiet on the other end of the line as his cop brain works with his uncle brain while he makes up his mind.

“How long?” he sighs, defeated.

“I don’t really know. These things don’t have a timeframe. She’s still crying. Can I text you with updates? I’m sorry, I just…it’s the right thing to do.

“If you want, I’ll get shitfaced next weekend and let you torture me all you want. Even Percy can join in, we will make it a family thing.”

My uncle chuckles over the phone before going over how I may be allowed out for the night, but punishment is still coming.

Then going over why drinking at all is dangerous, especially with my medication and my recovery, adding on to me being underage and how stupid it all is.

“For the love of God, Uncle, I get it. I understand. I promise. I love you. I will not go out drinking again. See you soon.”

I hang up and lay back down on the bed with a groan.

“The phone,” Luci snaps.

“Hold on.”

I send a text to Reid.

Savannah

I can’t make it tonight. I’m sorry for being late without calling.

Savannah

I got caught up with a girlfriend from group. She needs me, she’s really upset. Raincheck?

Savannah

You’re a good boy 😗🌊🐶

“Here.” I handed it back with a frown and a scowl.

“May I go to the kitchen?”

Lucien stops in his step to look back at me.

“Why?”

“Because I’m hungry and want to make myself, and I guess Damon, something to eat. I have like twenty bucks in my wallet for the groceries I use.”

Damon and Luci share a look of bewilderment before they both nod and let me out of this room.

Damon carries me out, up the steps, down the hallways, through the bar, and behind the set of brown doors that remind me of a restaurant.

“Fancy. Park me by the fridge.”

Damon carries me through the chromed and stainless steel appliances and holds the door open so I can see what they have.

“Boo. Nothing sweet. Or anything easy. I’m actually going to have to cook. You suck. Okay, grab the hamburger meat and the cheese. I’ll make cheeseburgers.”

Damon lays me on my good side on the top of the kitchen island. I tell him which pan to get, and he pats our meat patties, along with adding the seasoning I tell him.

Then we cook it up and add the cheese—which this neanderthal was going to do at the beginning and not the end like some kind of schmuck.

I tell him to toast the buns and get our burgers ready.

Scooting a barstool to the kitchen island as I lay out buffet style, I watch him grip each side of the burger and bring it to his lips.

I watch him take his first bite and close his eyes in bliss. He smacks his lips and moans in satisfaction at the flavor.

When he opens his dark eyes, I put two hands in front of my right eye like a camera. Making a show of it, I readjust what I pretend to be my lenses and make a loud click sound.

“What are you doing?”

His mouth is still full of food.

“Money shot, baby!” I crack up and start laughing at the look on his face.

I know what I’m doing, but I can’t stop—more and more laughter keeps coming out. So much so it’s making it hard to breathe; my ribs hurt and tears slide down my face.

He rolls his eyes but laughs with me.

Eventually, I can finally stop and take a bite of my own burger. By the time I do, Damon is finished with his.

“So what do we do now?”