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“He killed a man.”
“In my defense.”
“Then why did he run?”
Simone grinned. “Let’s see… You don’t think people know that staying could be dangerous? I mean, suppose that when the police come in with guns drawn, they rush in and start beating up the man who is helping me. Oh right, that’s exactly what happened. Your people would’ve hurt Sam if I hadn’t screamed at them. God knows how they’d thank the man who shot the attempted rapist.”
“And you think he’s a hero?”
The cop was fishing, trying to learn more. “He was my hero.”
“Maybe he has something to hide.”
“Maybe he does. So what? If you go around punishing people for stepping up… well, I’d have been raped and killed by the time you got there. So all that matters to me is that I was rescued. If he’s wanted, or even if he was breaking in to rob the place, I don’t care. I certainly don’t want you people pursuing him on the assumption that he’s a bad guy. Besides, why do you care so much?”
“There is paperwork to be filled out. This is an unsolved case.”
“And why does it matter who shot him when he was saving my life? Why make life difficult for people? Is your paperwork more important than my life?”
The woman took that in. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant…”
“You just meant that you want to know everything that went on and everyone involved. And the truth is that I have no reason to tell you. I’m the victim, and the way it went down, that perpetrator isn’t going to bother me again. You have plenty of witnesses to tell you what happened. How I escaped, who might have helped me… well, that’s my business.”
The woman sat sullenly, not willing to push too hard. There was a lot Simone could have told her and wanted to say, but she didn’t feel up to evangelizing. She ached and was concerned. Who knew what else Brad might have put in motion to make her life miserable?
Even though the police were involved, all they knew was that the man had gone off his rocker and come into the bar with a gun, intent on raping and possibly killing her. How did you explain what else had gone on in any meaningful way? More importantly, telling the entire story, really setting the record straight, would implicate Rafe, Max, and Gemma in a variety of quasi-legal activities that Simone didn’t understand. They were all part of it.
And there was the little matter of her men being bikers. Even if they didn’t charge them with anything, the cops weren’t likely to treat them kindly, and there would be a shooting in their records—an act of violence would be there without the background to explain they were being heroes. Who did that serve? Where was the justice in that?
No, Slash had been right.
It was a strange world where even doing the right thing had gotten weirdly complicated.
As the police car stopped in front of her house, she let out a sigh of relief. A cop hopped out and opened her door.
“Need some help getting inside?” the detective asked. “The officer can help you to the door.”
Simone wanted nothing more to do with the police. They stank of the bar and of Brad. It wasn’t their fault; they were, belatedly, being nice, but she needed to get away from them. “No, thanks.”
As she started up the sidewalk, her door opened and Rafe and Max dashed out, followed by Gemma. They hugged her and Rafe kissed her before Max had his turn.
Aware that the policewoman was still watching, sitting in the car with the door open, Simone turned and smiled at her as she clung to both her guys. A look came over the detective’s face—a suspicion followed with a smile. She realized who had rescued her, and now she had an idea why Simone wouldn’t tell.
“I think I see why you think you’ll be safe,” the woman said. There was a certain irony in her voice that amused Simone. “Good luck.” The door shut, and the car pulled away.
“Let’s get you inside,” Max said, putting an arm around her, and with Rafe’s arm also around her, they managed to make her feel secure for the first time in a long time.
They sat her on the couch, and Rafe looked over her bruised face. “Did they give you painkillers?”
“No. I told them I didn’t want any drugs.”
“Why not?” Max was frowning at her in disapproval.
“They don’t go well with beer.” She laughed. “We do have beer, don’t we?”
Gemma laughed and danced her way into the kitchen. “Hell, Simone, two bikers live here these days. We have plenty of beer.”
She looked at Rafe’s concerned face and then Max’s. “Thank you both.”
