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Daemon eyes me from head to toe, an assessing gaze that screams his inner thoughts of wanting to lock me away and protect me from harm.
“I’m not staying behind, Daemon. So, get that thought out of your head.”
He blinks and reaches into his back pocket. Pulling out a black wallet, he flips it open to reveal a detective badge and places it on the desk. He looks around the room at his brothers and me. “I know, Eden. That's why I’m not a cop on this one. Donovan doesn’t walk away from this. And yes, I think we should call Wyatt in.”
“We should head out before Ollie revolts and tries to take on the whole 402 gang and Darnell kills him,” Kain says, slipping on a black leather jacket.
* * *
A rowof metallic chrome and shiny black motorcycles line the side of the road as we crest the hill, coming up behind the club. Darnell, Harley, and Ollie stand surrounded by the 402 gang, the crew Darnell leads.
We park beside the last bike and exit the SUV. I nearly run to Ollie and throw my arms around him. “She’s going to be okay,” I whisper.
Tentatively, his arms come up and wrap around me. For just a second, I infuse all the peace and assurance I can muster into that hold.
Ollie pulls back, and his stony expression returns. “Now that we’re all here, can we get moving? The longer we’re standing around out here twiddling our thumbs, the longer that fucker has to hurt my Kitty.”
His Kitty? I wish I had gotten that on tape for Kitty to hear.
“Darnell, are you staying for this?” Lucifer asks, stepping through the circle of men. His cleanly pressed grey suit and shiny black shoes are so at odds with everyone around him dressed in riding boots, jeans, and leather jackets.
“We have one golden rule in the 402. No women—no children. We leave them out of our shit. If you’re about taking down some asshole hurting women to make a buck, then count us in.” Around Darnell, his crew roars in a chorus of agreements.
“Harley, give us the basic layout with all the exits,” Lucifer continues, taking a step back as Harley approaches the center of the group.
Harley’s deep tan, messy black hair, and bad boy persona are still firmly in place. The chain hanging from his hip to the back pocket of his ripped jeans jangles as he walks into full view.
As he makes his way past me, Harley meets my eyes for the briefest of moments, long enough for me to catch a glimpse of the sadness hidden in their depths. I can’t keep my mind from wondering what really happened between him and Virgil the other week. Is he okay? Did something happen to his daughter?
“There are three exits we need to cover. The main entrance. One at the end of the VIP hall that leads into the alley. Finally, one through the back room that exits into the back lot. The main floor is your basic layout, bar, tables, and stage. Across the room from the main entrance is the VIP hall. If Kitty is still in a room, it’ll be down that hall. If she’s done, she’ll either be in the back room or in Donovan’s office.
“To the left of the main door is a staircase. There’s a short hall at the top of the stairs. At the end is Donovan’s office.”
“How many guards?” Darnell asks, cracking his knuckles and rocking from foot to foot.
“Two on the main door, one on each of the others, and on a typical night—five walking the floor. Considering the level of paranoia pulsing through that place lately, I’d expect a few extra men.”
“Not ideal for a crowded place full of patrons on a Friday night, but we can work with that,” Kain states, a meditative and disturbed look on his face. He leans a hip against the SUV and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dark-wash jeans. For the first time since arriving, I notice he’s without the cane.
I walk over and stand beside him. Leaning in, I whisper, “Where’s the cane?”
He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t acknowledge my presence. Purposefully ignoring me.
I huff a heavy breath, laced with frustration, and push off the SUV to walk away from the jerk who can’t be bothered to even acknowledge me. I take one step forward, and an arm encircles my waist, pulling me into a hard surface at my back.
“Don’t, little killer,” Kain rasps in my ear, low enough for only me to hear.
“Don’t what?” I whisper back.
“Don’t you dare walk away from me.”
“You ignored—” My words are cut short by teeth closing around my earlobe. My head tilts to the side and my eyes drift shut. The sound of men talking around me fades into the background. My focus wholly zoomed in on Kain’s teeth, his warm breaths ghosting over my rapidly heating skin, and his warm lips now skimming over the column of my exposed neck.
“You’re going to stay beside me the whole time, aren’t you, little killer?” Kain asks, a whisper in my ear before he kisses his way from my ear to my shoulder.
“Yes,” I say breathlessly, my hand sliding along the length of his arm wrapped around my middle.
“Good girl,” he growls, pulling my jacket to the side and biting down on my shoulder.
