Free Savage: Iron Dragons MC by Olivia Stephens Page B

“But it doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done. Let’s move on, ok?”
     
    “Ok,” Keith nodded. “How are we going to handle Kovic?”
     
    “We can’t reason with the man,” Miles said. “He’s like a petulant child when he doesn’t get his way.”
     
    Keith nodded. “He’s dangerous,” he said. “Especially because he doesn’t play by the rules. We need to be extremely careful; he’s capable of anything.”
     
    Miles looked up. “What do you mean… exactly?”
     
    Keith sighed and repeated the threat Kovic had made just before they had parted ways. “I’m going to kill the Dragons and sell their bitches,” Keith said the words with bitterness in his mouth. “But this time, I’m going to fuck them first. Those were his exact words.”
     
    Miles eyes turned dark. “He’s a rabid dog that needs to be put down.”
     
    Keith nodded in agreement. “That’s not going to be easy though.”
     
    “No, it’s not,” Miles nodded. “But it’s the only way to rid ourselves of this problem.”
     
    “What are you suggesting?” Keith asked, leaning in.
     
    “Contact our remaining charters,” Miles said. “And tell them to prepare for war.”
     

Chapter Ten
    Keith
     
    Keith went to sleep thinking about gang wars and woke up thinking about Kristina. He felt a strange sadness in realizing that she had managed somehow, to replace Natalie in his early morning stupors of confusion. Despite the sadness, there was a feeling of freedom that was tied to it. Keith no longer felt as claustrophobic and that made him strangely hopeful. The down side was that it heightened his need to see Kristina again.
     
    He recalled their meeting—now almost two weeks ago—when she had found him beaten, bruised, and bloodied, and she had taken him to her room to patch him up. It was amazing the things he remembered about her. They were little details that got stuck in a person’s head after a certain level of intimacy had been established. Like the way Kristina had smelled, she had smelled of cinnamon and pinecones. She had smelt like a fresh winter’s day, and yet somehow, she managed to radiate warmth.
     
    That was not all that lingered in Keith’s mind. He recalled in perfect detail the way her hands had felt as they had washed away the blood and cleaned all his wounds. Her touch was soft and gentle. She touched him as though she were scared he would break. Keith was not used to that feeling, the feeling of being taken care of. He had always looked out for himself, and in most circumstances, he had been the one to look after others.
     
    It felt strange, sitting in Kristina’s room, surrounded by her life and all the little things that it comprised of, but Keith realized he was interested in everything. While she cleaned his wounds, he took notice of her whimsical bed sheets, the alternative rock band on her laptop screensaver, the frame on her desk, hugging the image of Kristina with her parents. They were all clues that made up the whole, and when Keith had finished his observation of her, he realized with a start that she was far from a mystery anymore.
     
    While this knowledge might have alarmed him once, it no longer held the same weight. There was a resigned acceptance that came with knowing that Kristina was not a stranger anymore, and she probably would never be. She had sneaked into his life slowly, so slowly in fact that he hadn’t even noticed. Chance and circumstance and kept pushing them together, and now she was cemented into his mind.
     
    Keith closed his eyes for a moment and recalled the last time they had met. She had been wearing dark jeans that hugged her hips perfectly and a tan sweater that clung to her body. He tried to picture what their walk to her dorm must have looked like—a massive man leaning against a woman half his size. Strangely, it had not felt that way to Keith in the moment. At that point, Kristina had felt like the giant. She had supported him without one