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“Yay. I’ll go order it. Take your time unpacking, and when you’re ready, meet me on the couch. We’ll be the first to lounge on it. The store delivered it an hour ago.”
“Okay, sounds good. I shouldn’t be too long.”
Brenna walked right into her personal space. “I’m so glad you’re here, Kelsie. And I can’t wait for you to meet the rest of the gals.” Brenna hugged her before heading out into the hallway and pulling the door shut behind her.
Alone in the charming room, Kelsie did a slow spin, taking it all in again. She inhaled the fresh scent and then sat on the edge of the bed. After a quick bounce test, she shook her head. If she hadn’t been so stubborn, she could have come here after the first hospital stay after the Handlers rescued Brenna and her from hell. Maybe she’d be further along in her recovery from the trauma. Maybe she’d be happy. Maybe she wouldn’t have tried to take the most drastic of steps to end her pain.
Her brother still would have contacted her, no doubt. Someone at the hospital leaked a picture and a watered-down version of her story to the press, resulting in brief news coverage of the human trafficking ring broken up in western Florida. From there, it’d been easy for her family to track her down and contact her, ending years of hard work to remain off their radar. That’s what had set her off, not the recent trauma, which said something about how much she loathed her family because the trauma fucked with her head in a major way.
Raised in an infamous family of smooth con artists and dangerous men, she’d left home the second she turned eighteen, never intending to return.
Lorenzo’s calls and threats hadn’t changed her mind.
But they’d changed the rest of her life.
Could the Handlers help? Were they powerful enough to scare her family into forgetting she existed?
Maybe they were, but it didn’t matter. She’d never dragged anyone else into her toxic drama before, and she wouldn’t start now. Kelsie had been handling her problems alone since her teenage years, and she could keep it that way.
Her healing forearm throbbed as though reminding her just how big a lie that was.
“Shit,” she whispered, dragging the hand on her uninjured arm through her hair.
She needed help. Being on her own worked when her family couldn’t find her. Now that they knew where she was, it was only a matter of time before they showed up and tried to force her back to a life she hated—a life that would kill her in spirit, at the very least. Worst case, she’d end up six feet under for real.
Even though she loathed the idea of revealing her family’s shameful secrets, what kind of monster would she be if she didn’t warn the Handlers of what could be coming for them by associating with her?
Maybe she’d get lucky, and her family lost the scent of her trail when she landed in the hospital a second time.
You never get lucky.
“Shit,” she whispered again. Sighing, she stood. None of this would be solved today while her stomach rumbled and the sweetest woman in the world waited to hang out with her. Today, she’d enjoy the comfort of human connection.
Tomorrow, she’d plan.
CHAPTER FIVE
MOST NIGHTS, THE clubhouse was abuzz with activity. Someone was always hanging around drinking, chilling, partying, or conducting business. Tonight, the stars had aligned in a very specific way, and somehow, everyone had plans away from the clubhouse.
Except Ty.
As much as he loved his brothers and their women, what he had planned for tonight required solitude. He’d finally kicked his own ass hard enough to convince himself to open the damn safe. The unveiling would end in one of two ways. Either the contents would be a bunch of nothing, and he’d feel like the biggest fool, or his gut would be correct, and whatever that box held would fuck with his head.
Either way, he didn’t want or need an audience.
He started a fire in the huge pit behind the clubhouse that was used almost nightly. Once satisfied with the roaring flames, he returned inside, retrieved the safe, grabbed a bottle of tequila, and headed to the new Adirondack chairs Curly purchased last week. They had a sweet outdoor setup, and with Florida’s weather, the space saw plenty of action year-round.
Before sitting, he removed the pistol from the small of his back, setting it on the ground next to his chair. He’d stuck it in the back of his pants before making a fire. The clubhouse property was as secure as could be, and he didn’t expect any rogue gators to wander onto their property, but he liked to be prepared for any shit that might come his way. The club had enemies who’d surprised them in the past. Tonight wouldn’t be one of those times.
He settled down, took a swig of the tequila straight from the bottle, and then stared at the safe on the ground in front of him. “All right, you motherfucker, let’s see what secrets you’re hiding.”
He hefted the safe onto his lap with a grunt. Though small, it had some significant weight to it. The latch opened easily since Lock cracked the thing a few months ago, and Ty had made sure not to lock it up again. He peeked inside with a deep breath and a tremble in his hand he’d never admit to.
And frowned.
“Huh.”
One manila envelope folded in half sat in the center of the small safe. Excellent, more things for him to open. He snatched it out and then set the heavy safe back on the ground. His stomach twisted. Whatever that envelope contained, it wasn’t good for him. His gut rarely led him astray, and it was screaming at him now. If only he’d listened to it all those years ago on his wedding day when it shouted then too. But no, he’d been too young, too stupid, and too led by his dick to trust his instincts and instead married a woman who made his life a living hell.
