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“Scared”—ThreeDaysGrace

My heart about to burst from my chest, I clung to the burly man carrying me and hauling ass for the building barely visible through the snow. In my scratchy voice, I screamed for Decker.

The door flew open, and Soap ran in, followed by gusts of swirling snow.

“Hurry,” I heard Snow shout, and I struggled to get to my feet. The giant set me down, and I pushed my way around him to see if Decker was okay.

Before I could run to where they were dragging his limp body across the floor, Soap stopped me and wrapped his massive tattooed arms around me. “Easy girl. You get in the way, and it won’t help him a bit.”

Desperate, I glanced up into his kind brown eyes and chose to trust a man I didn’t know from Adam. Tears poured down my face as I watched helplessly as they disappeared down a hallway.

A woman in ridiculously short shorts came up to me with a worried expression. “I got her, Soap, if you need to go help.”

“Thanks, Tash.” He let me go, but waited a second, I assumed to see if I’d try to run off half-cocked.

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m Tasha, but they all call me Tash. Why don’t you come to the kitchen with me, and we’ll see if we can get you some tea or something to warm up?”

Dazed, I blinked at her and then nodded. Unable to collect my thoughts, I shuffled after her and sat when she pointed to the bench on one side of the table. I sat sideways at the end so I could see the entrance to the hall and fought the sobs that wanted to take over.

When she came back with a steaming cup that smelled spicy and warm, I blinked vacantly at it. She sat it on the table.

“It’s Chai tea. I didn’t know if you’d prefer coffee or tea, but I like this so I thought maybe you might too.” She pushed it closer, and I took a shuddering breath. Dumbly, I looked down at the papers I’d had to move out of the way to buckle my seat belt like he’d told me.

My heart sank as I stared at the words on them. It was a background check. On me. It was hard to breathe as I thought about Decker reading the words that outlined my sordid past.

Closing my eyes, I dropped my head.

“What’s your name? You look familiar,” she said softly.

Looking up at her, I cocked my head in confusion. Her blonde hair was in a messy pile on her head, and she had no makeup on. A smattering of pale freckles was sprinkled across her upturned nose, and kind blue eyes studied me. She didn’t look like anyone I knew, but something was certainly familiar about her as well.

“Loralei,” I mumbled. Still holding the papers, I pressed them to my chest and reached for the cup with a shaking hand.

“Did you work at the Shamrock?” She tilted her head, not in judgement but curiosity.

Surprised, I blinked rapidly. “Uh, yeah, for a few months.”

“Mmm, I thought so. I never forget a face.”

“Are you one of their wives, or I’m sorry, I’m not good with all this. Old ladies?” I motioned to the men that were going in and out of the hallway. It had been a while since I watched that one show, so I couldn’t remember what the proper terms were.

Her cheeks flushed bright pink, and her gaze dipped to the table. “Uh, no. Not exactly.”

“Oh. You’re just dating one?” I didn’t really care, but I needed something else to focus on besides the trail of blood that had followed Decker as they dragged him across the floor and down the hall.

“No, I kind of… well, they let me stay here, and um,” she stammered, then cleared her throat.

Comprehension dawned on me, and I felt like an asshole. I remembered there were women that stayed at the clubhouse and kind of belonged to everyone. It was my turn to blush.

“Oh, um, how does that work?” I winced and wanted to kick myself for my stupid question. Nervously, my eyes darted to the hall.

“I’m not a whore,” she whispered, and my gaze shot back to her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that. Honestly,” I stammered. Soap approached us and leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Dropping my gaze, I tried to ignore how he’d casually cupped one of her boobs as he spoke in her ear.

“No, it’s okay. I mean, I’m a stripper,” she said with a shrug and a humorless laugh. Her white tank top was loose, and ample cleavage was visible thanks to Soap’s inked-up hand cupping her. I might’ve been mistaken, but I’d have sworn Soap growled when she said that.

Clearing my scratchy throat, I sipped the tea, finding it surprisingly good. I’d never cared for tea before. I took another sip as they spoke quietly to each other. Then I wondered if the tea was good for the baby.

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