Knight (110 page)

“What?”

She sighed. “I’m in therapy, Brew.”

“Oh.” No one in the family ever tried to help themselves without drugs or alcohol. “Good. Is it…helping?”

“A little.” She shrugged. “But I still froze on stage.”

“You were just surprised.”

“I was terrified.”

“You never need to be scared, you hear me?” My voice hardened. Almost yelling. But she had to believe me. I’d make her listen. “You got Thorne. You got Keep. And you got me. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to you. You understand me?”

“Brew—”

“Shut it.”

Rose sunk onto the couch, her words silenced under my glare.

I swore. What kind of shit therapy was she in? One appearance from Blade and a harsh word from me, and she was back to her old tricks, diving inside herself and plotting every way she’d escape without us realizing she got away.

“You don’t worry about a damn thing,” I said. “You play your guitar, go to classes, and forget you saw him. I’ll take care of it. I swear.”

“What are you going to do?”

“What I should have done a long time ago.”

She frowned, but her eyes widened after a long moment. She wasn’t a kid anymore. She knew how men in our family and in our club solved problems, but she acted like she had no idea it was coming.

“I didn’t call you to ask you to…” She stood and pushed me away. “I called you because I
needed
you, Brew. I wanted to hear your voice. I wanted you to tell me it was going to be okay.”

“It is going to be okay.”

“Then leave. I believe you. Please, don’t do anything that’ll get you hurt.”

“You don’t get to worry about me. That’s my job, not yours.”

“Someone has to watch over you.”

“That person isn’t you,” I said.

“Well it’s not
you
. This isn’t the way to fix me, Brew.”

I snorted. “It’s the only way.”

“Christ, you never listen to me!”

Now she looked like the Rose I remembered—the little girl who grew up thinking she was weak and helpless until she needed to steal Knight’s bike and deliver fifty grand worth of meth in a broken drug deal. She stormed at me, stepping onto the tips of her toes to face me down.

“You hear what I say, and then you ignore it because you think you know what’s best for me. Well,
that
isn’t what’s best for me.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No.” Her words cut. “It’s what’s best for
you
. Because
you’re
guilty. Because you think it’s
your
freaking fault.”

“You better shut your mouth before you say something you regret.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s not my fault.”

She spoke words neither of us believed, but that didn’t stop her from parroting whatever she learned in therapy. It'd never fix her. Only a bottle of whiskey and spilled blood would free both of us of that nightmare.

Rose sucked in a trembling breath. “At first I wanted my brother because I was
scared
. Now, I just want you to leave. I can’t handle losing you again.”

“You never lost me.”

“Thorne pointed a gun at your head before you left me for three months. You don’t answer my calls. You don’t text. I wasn’t even sure you were alive until Keep said he heard from you.”

“You
never
lost me.”

Her voice trembled. She acted like she either hit me or hug me, and I couldn’t make the choice for her. “I go to bed every night thinking you might be dead. Tell me that isn’t losing you.”

I didn’t let her push me to the door. She didn’t have the strength to move me or the courage to force me to leave. I didn’t have the common fucking sense to let her be.

“You never lost me, and you never will.” I pulled her close, kissing her forehead. “I gave you up once, I’m not going to fuck up again.”

I didn’t let her answer. Nothing she said would change my mind, alleviate my guilt, or cleanse my sins. I pointed at her, hesitating at the door.

“I’ll take care of this,” I promised. “I won’t let you get hurt.”

“What about you?” Rose paled. Every one of her freckles stood out on her cheeks, just like mine when I was a kid, except I had the sense to grow out of them. “Please, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Lock up behind me.”

The door closed. I waited for the click. The deadbolt and cocking gun sounded the same—a soothing promise of security. Seeing her gave me the courage. Rose was the steel in my bones and the fire in my blood.

I failed her while she was growing up. It only meant that now I’d give her the life she deserved. Her nightmares would end. Her pain would cease. And no one would ever threaten her again.

It was time to save my family.

Red’s text message was only a single word.

Sorry

It was the most frightening text I ever received.

Red didn’t apologize, for anything, ever. If my cousin made mistakes, he fixed them. That’s what made Red, Red. That was why he chose the MC over a medical career. He made his money fixing other people’s problems and redding up their messes.

It meant one thing.

Goddamn it, I was out of time.

For two days, I called in every favor, worked every contact, and traveled from bar to bar with nothing but a backpack and a couple hundred dollars to bribe people. My patented smile lost its luck after a series of questions that not only pointed me right to Temple, but nearly had me beheaded by a brother who abandoned his cut and gestured between his legs to find more information.

A couple months ago, I might have been tempted.

Now, the thought turned my stomach, chilled my spine, and lost me three hundred dollars to a bouncer to distract my pursuer until I was gone.

Brew didn’t answer my calls. I didn’t blame him, but I doubted he even listened to his messages. The local news reported on the death of Kingdom’s vice-president—spinning the story of gangland violence as police discovered more of Kingdom’s leadership face-down in the gutter.

Whatever war Brew hoped to avoid bled out in the streets. Temple controlled the region. It was only a matter of time before Sacrilege cut their veins too. Red’s ominous text signaled the end I knew was coming.

The shouting echoed from the hotel lobby. I deleted Red’s text and, with a hasty swipe of my hand, I wiped off the makeup covering the fading bruise on my cheek. It wasn’t fresh, but it still looked ugly.

Goliath pounded against the door. He didn’t wait for me to open it. His foot smashed through the wood as Sam called from the hallway. At least it wasn’t just Goliath, but it wasn’t like I trusted Sam.

Goliath’s shadow flooded the room with a menacing darkness. It wasn’t the first time I longed for Brew’s return, but it would be the last time I let myself think of it.

First, I had to save myself. No distractions.

Then, I had to figure out a way to keep him safe.

“Baby?” I covered my face with my hands. “Goliath! I’m so glad it’s you!”

I rushed from the bed and into his chest. The same leathered, open road scent of Brew shaded Goliath, but the undercurrent of beer and stale smoke lingered on his clothes. I burrowed against him anyway.

Goliath pushed me into the wall. He stormed through the hotel room and burst into the bathroom. The mirror shattered under his fist. He didn’t feel it, but I would later.

I let Sam pull me into a hug. He surveyed the bruise on my cheek as Goliath swore, ripping the remnants of the mirror from the wall only to toss it into the hotel TV. He kicked the bed and hauled the mattress over the side. The veins throbbed in his head, and he panted in his rage. I wondered what he popped. His pupils dilated, and he stared at me with pale, clammy skin, wiping the spit from his mouth.

“
Where the fuck is he
?” Goliath shouted.

I stepped into Sam. The flinch wasn’t part of my act.

“Where’s who, baby?” I whispered.

It wasn’t time to play dumb. Goliath seized me from Sam’s arms and yanked me around by my neck. I squealed as his thumb dug into my skin.

“Don’t play stupid, you fucking cunt! Where the fuck is Noir?”

“Dead!”

I hated the lie almost as much as the bitter dread that pitted in my stomach when I realized I might be right. Brew’s leather jacket rested on the table, unmoved from the last time I picked it up and was smacked by his spicy scent. I pointed at it, forgetting the image of the man who once wore it.

“He’s dead! Like you said, baby! I had to get away from him, and...and...”

Goliath tossed me to the floor, ripping open the coat and checking the pockets.

“I did it,” I said. I pretended. I suffered. “See? He’s gone.”

Sam sighed in relief. “Noir’s dead?”

I nodded but didn’t stand. “He was stronger than me. I had to...I had to surprise him.”

Goliath’s pupils dilated more. “You fucked him, didn’t you? You goddamned whore.”

“He wanted me to.” I pointed to the bruise on my cheek. “I refused him, Goliath. I swear. I fought him, and he beat me, but he gave up.”

“Did you want it?”

“You’re my one and only.” My stomach churned in deceit. “I promise. I’d take a beating over hurting you.”

Lies, lies, and more lies, but the festering truth wouldn’t help anyone, least of all me.

“Can we go home, please?” I asked. “I’m so scared. I just want to sleep this all away.”

“Yeah.” Sam took the jacket from Goliath. “Let’s get you back. Shit’s not safe here, Martini. You gotta hunker down for a while, till all this blows over.”

“What’s happening?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Sam said. “Club stuff. Let us handle it.”

That’s what I was afraid of. They couldn’t handle any of the trouble they were already in, let alone the host of problems that would come when whatever remained of Kingdom learned Brew was alive.

Or if Temple realized just how close they were to finding him.

Goliath jerked my arm too hard. I yelped, but he didn’t care. Sam took my things and slammed the door shut, hiding the evidence of Goliath’s tantrum and the sparking remains of the television. The hotel asked no questions as they hauled me outside. Enough women came and went on the backs of bikes to not warrant a second glance.

Except his wasn’t the bike I came in on.

And it was the last time I’d let myself ache for that rider.

Riding with Goliath was not nearly as safe as Brew. Speeding over a hundred miles cramped my back and weakened my arms. I held onto Goliath because I had no choice. He liked the feel of my body pressed against his, and I liked not smashing myself onto the blinding asphalt.

Returning to the bar was like returning to the scene of a crime I didn’t commit, except I had no alibi for the blood on my hands.

Or the blood that
wasn’t
on my hands.

My home was no longer familiar, and the darkness seeped through the empty bar and halls. I shivered. It wasn’t just the chill of the night. Justice came swift in the MC, and the silence didn’t promise anything but bloody retribution.

I had to delay them. The bar was empty, but I offered to pour a drink for the men who so daringly rescued me from Noir’s clutches.

Sam apologized and declined. He didn’t look at me. I wondered how he managed before.

Goliath pushed me past the counter. He herded me up the tucked away stairs to my apartment. The door was locked. He kicked it open with a foreboding profanity.

It was going to happen.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t expected it. Goliath had been hard ever since he bled over my hotel room. Roughing up a room excited him. Riding with me clutching his back made him feel strong. I had no idea what he injected in his veins, but it was powerful enough to veil the pain of his bleeding knuckles and blur his mind into a haze of violence.

It fed his desire.

I didn’t let myself think of Brew.

“Been a while, baby.” Goliath stared at me, his blue eyes rimmed devil red. He rubbed his erection through his jeans. “I missed you. Take your fucking clothes off.”

He missed parts of me. I stiffened. He didn’t give me an opportunity to rest after the trip. Didn’t ask me if I was okay or if I wanted something to eat or time to gather my composure. Instead he drove me backward.

I tripped over a pair of shoes tossed in the middle of the floor as he forced me to the bed.

“I’m tired.” I gave him a smile—my first, last, and only weapon to wield against the monster. “I’ve been through so much, baby. I think I need to rest.”

“Too tired from doing your fucking job?” Goliath sneered. He slashed a hand through the air. My bookshelf pitched to the ground. “Too tired from bailing out the club and doing what you should have done before we fucking told you? You could have killed him before. Instead you made us look like pussies.”

I shook my head. “Baby, I swear to you. I did everything you asked.”

“You fucked
everything
up.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

He pushed me on the bed, ripping through my shirt and yanking my jeans off when I delayed too long. The belt yanked from his jeans. The sudden exposure raked me in shivers.