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Juliet nodded. “My attorney’s been handling my affairs.”
The vague answer seemed to satisfy the cop. I had Mr. Porter on speed dial, ready to call if they tried to take Juliet anywhere.
The cops were finishing when Dex burst through the busted front door.
His accusing eyes found me immediately. “What the hell happened?”
I blamed myself too, so he wasn’t alone.
“And you are?” the officer asked.
“Her uncle. What happened?”
“As long as there’s finally an adult present,” the officer said, “we’ll get going. They can tell you what happened. Mr. Samson will be taken into custody.” He threw a glance at me. “If he recovers.”
“Jared did this?” Dex seethed.
“Stay away from him.” The cop eyed Dex’s leather cut, zeroing in on the Lost Kings MC patch. “Let the system handle him.”
“Absolutely, officer. No problem. I feel safer already knowing you’re on the case,” Dex sneered.
Damn, it was hard not to like him.
“Since it’s clear he broke in and attacked the girl, we won’t be pressing charges, Mr. Hawkins.” The cop nodded at me. “But don’t go anywhere.”
“Not planning to.”
The officer shook my hand and motioned for his crew to follow him outside.
Juliet told her story one final time before I took her upstairs to bed.
She winced and I almost lost my mind when she stripped off her shirt and I saw the bruises forming on her back.
“I should’ve killed that son of a bitch,” I said through my teeth.
“Don’t say that,” she whispered.
“He hurt you. He didn’t give a damn about the damage he was inflicting. I should kill him for scaring you alone.”
“I don’t want that on your conscience, Roman,” she said as I tucked the covers around her.
Her weary expression kept my mouth shut. This wasn’t about me or my need for revenge.
It was about protecting Juliet and making her feel safe again.
Murder could come later.
I stayed by her side until she fell asleep, then returned downstairs.
Dex and one of his club brothers were quietly cleaning up the debris and fixing the front door.
“Thank you for staying and doing that,” I said.
Dex turned and nodded at his red-headed buddy. He had a dense beard that made it impossible to tell if he was closer to my age or Dex’s. I supposed it didn’t matter, I was just happy to have someone help me clean up the mess. When Juliet woke tomorrow, I wanted no trace of the wreckage to remind her of what happened.
“Murphy, this is Roman, Juliet’s boyfriend,” Dex introduced.
The emphasis he added to boyfriend made me think Dex wasn’t all that thrilled with me at the moment.
Murphy and I nodded at each other. “Thank you for coming over.” I’m sure he had better things to do on a holiday than clean up this mess.
“No problem. If Dex calls, I answer.”
Dex rolled his eyes. “You’re not a prospect anymore. You’re the RC for fuck’s sake.”
Murphy smirked and punched Dex in the arm.
“RC? That’s road captain, right?” I asked.
Murphy slowly tapped the patch on his cut that plainly spelled out Road Captain as if I was an idiot.
Funny fucker.
Since the night Dex had taken me on my first adventure into the world of vigilante justice, I’d read up on motorcycle clubs. And I certainly learned more about the secretive side from Eraser and Griff. “You plan the trips, right? Maintain the bikes for the club?”
Dex nodded with approval. Like he was proud I’d done my homework.
“Yeah.” Murphy seemed to warm up to the conversation. “Dex says you’re turning into a good mechanic.”
I was more interested in Murphy’s trip-planning skills than an assessment of my mechanical skills. “I do all right.”
Eventually, I wanted to take Juliet away. Go on the road for a while and leave all this crap behind.
Murphy and Dex shared a look I couldn’t decipher. “You should come hang out at the clubhouse one night,” Dex suggested. “We have a nice spread out in the woods.”
I’d also heard about the way a lot of motorcycle clubs partied at their clubhouses. None of it sounded like an environment I’d take Juliet into.
I narrowed my eyes at Dex. “Is Juliet invited? I don’t go where she can’t go.”
His mouth twitched. “Maybe on family day.”
Murphy snorted, as if family days were a rare occurrence.
Dex nodded at the door. “Help me screw this plate in.”
When we finished, the three of us sat down at the kitchen table. I hated digging into Juliet’s apple cake without asking her, but I wanted to offer them something for their trouble. Knowing her, she’d do the same thing.
“Juliet made Irish Apple Cake for St. Patrick’s. You want a slice?” Juliet must have been in the middle of slicing the cake when Jared knocked. One piece was on a small plate and a knife with cake residue was on the counter. I sliced two more pieces and started a pot of coffee.
