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She gently traced the scar on his jaw, barely visible with his beard. Since they met, he hadn’t shaved it. In her opinion, he looked ten times sexier with the scruff.
“Don’t worry, mi amor, I’ll take care of this devil once and for all,” she whispered, kissing his temple. She couldn’t leave right then but soon.Very soon.She had someone to visit before she could put the Diablos MC out for good. Her father.
She stayed beside him a while longer. Doc came and checked on him. Rubble, Hawk, and the rest of the MC did as well. It comforted her to know she wasn’t leaving him alone. His brothers would be there no matter where she went.
Heart sinking, she stood and surveyed the room. Queenie had flitted in and out of the room, bringing a tray of food for her. She’d nibbled on a freshly made chocolate chip cookie, stomach otherwise sour. Her body hadn’t fully recovered from being in the semi-trailer. Neither had her mind. But the instant she saw Kevlar, she’d felt herself heal. At least a tiny bit.
Nikita walked over and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge. Vials of medicines stood out amid the water. She picked up a few and smirked. Macha was well prepared for such events like today.
“How’re you feeling?”
She looked over her shoulder and saw Isa walk in. They’d spoken a few times, but nothing more than general conversation.
“I’m better, thanks.”
Isa sat in the other open seat, the whirly doctor one. “You’re stronger than I would be after such an ordeal.”
The Irish accent made Nikita smile. It was light enough she could understand but foreign enough to make the pretty woman appear exotic.
“From what I’ve heard, you’re pretty badass yourself.”
Isa shrugged. “Not compared to you, but thanks.” She pointed to Kevlar. “Doc says he’ll be fine. I can watch him for a bit if you need to get some rest.” She tilted her head to the side. “You look tired.”
Chuckling, she nodded. “Also known as, you look like shit.”
They both laughed, but neither broached the truth. If Nikita were honest with herself, she could use a few more hours of sleep. Kevlar kept her up most nights since Phoenix, and not for the reason she’d prefer. His tossing and turning jerked her awake, but it was his sudden jolts up in bed that concerned her.
“All right, sure.” She kissed Kevlar’s forehead. “Be back in a while.” She nodded her thanks to Isa and meandered down the hall to his room. It smelled like him, the scent intoxicating her until she drifted into a dreamless state.
***
The plane touched down in New York before the sun set that night. She watched the city lights gleam back at her. The pilot came across the speakers, welcoming them to the Big Apple and stating the current weather.
She shivered, her carry-on bag digging into her shoulder. Spiriting away from Macha’s clubhouse without telling a damn soul wasn’t the best plan, but if she’d told someone, she was certain they’d try to talk her out of it or insist on going with her. She needed to do this alone.
The time flashed on the man’s phone beside her. She’d yet to pick up a new one. After Zane took hers, she really didn’t think about buying a phone. Her mind had been otherwise occupied.
A flash of memory from the semi entered her mind and she winced at the severity of it. Resting her head on the back of the seat, she closed her eyes and took a cleansing breath. She wasn’t at 100 percent. Her wounds, both internal and external, given to her during her short stay with the traffickers were nothing compared to women like Yasmina.
Suck it up, buttercup.
Straightening in the seat, she opened her eyes to see the passengers deplaning. She quickly hopped up and scooted down the aisle. The airport bustled with life. Distant voices mingled into one mass of words, some she knew, others foreign.
Nikita hurried across the terminals and found a car rental. One short stop later, she was in a Jeep heading up to Fishkill Correctional. Her father had some explaining to do. It was better to merely stop by instead of giving him the chance to adequately prepare. After all, she hadn’t been given such a privilege.
The prison stood out in the darkness, the spotlights visible for miles. The Jeep easily took to the hills, and before she could register what was happening, she sat in one of the private visiting rooms.
A guard escorted her father in, who, in her opinion, looked astonished to see her. The door closed again, and they simply stared at each other. Her first urge to slap him was outweighed by the curiosity to hear his words.
“Mija, you’re… looking well.” His face said one thing while his eyes said another. He was disappointed. Why, she wasn’t sure.
“Surprised to not see me chained to a pimp?” She narrowed her eyes. “Or did you have some secret deal to get me out of the situation?”
“Ah, mija, you overestimate my abilities from these concrete walls.” Estevan pointed to the cell. “Not much can be done from within bars.”
“Cut the bullshit,” she snapped, and his full attention was focused on her face.
“Do not speak to me like that.”
