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“You pestered,” Viper growled.
I glared at him. “Be nice or leave.”
“Tell Prez what happened last night,” Viper commanded. “He needs to know everything.”
I took a sip of coffee. “I was cooking an omelet when the back door opened. I don’t remember if I left it unlocked or what, but he just came in. This guy—thisman—rushed toward me. Dark hair. Covered in tats. Feral eyes. Like, I live in a trailer park, ya know? I’m used to shit going on. I thought maybe he was tweaking and he was just looking for some easy cash to steal and maybe he didn’t know I was home…”
I shook my head, remembering the adrenaline that had taken over my entire body. “He stood there for a minute before he came at me… He said I was apretty little pieceand…he wanted totaste me. He pulled out a knife and told me to be quiet so no one would hear. Said he’d cut me and leave me for dead if I made any noise. I didn’t think—I just grabbed the cast-iron skillet I was cooking with, and when he lunged for me, I bashed the side of his head. It stunned him, but he didn’t stop.”
I looked at the coffee in my hands. “Eventually I hit him in the knee, and when he collapsed I smashed his skull in. Even when he was doing that heavy, labored breathing and I knew he was going to die, I didn’t stop until…until he was silent.”
My hands shook as I lifted the coffee mug and placed it on the desk. I clamped my lips shut to stop them from trembling. It was one thing to think about the situation. It was an entire other thing to relive it, give it words, give it legs, and make it real again. To share it.
“Brave,” Viper growled. “What you did.”
I lifted my chin, my head swiveling to stare at him. His eyes said more than his words. His eyes said he was proud of me. For not being a victim. For not freezing.
“He’s right,” Colt said. “What you did was fucking brave as shit, and you were lucky that it worked out that way.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I just couldn’t—I mean, I knew he was going to rape me. Rape me and then probably kill me, so I had to fight. You know?”
Colt set his hands on the desk and linked his tattooed fingers.
“Thank you for telling me the truth,” Colt said.
“Thank you for cleaning up my mess.” I wrinkled my nose. “I still don’t know why your club did me that favor.”
“Do you have any family, Sutton?” Colt asked.
“I’m on my own,” I said.
He nodded slowly. “I’m impressed with how you handled yourself in that situation. I don’t know you, but I’ve got a gut instinct about what you’re made of. Viper said you didn’t break down last night either. After…”
“No,” I agreed. “I didn’t break down.”
“What about when you were alone last night? In the clubhouse room?” Colt asked.
“No,” I admitted. “Not even then.”
“Grit,” Colt said. “You’ve got grit. Which is why I’m gonna tell you the truth about last night. The man who broke into your trailer wasn’t some random guy looking to rape you. That wasn’t his end goal.”
I frowned. “How do you know?”
“Because of his tattoos,” Colt explained. “You killed a member of the cartel.”
I blinked. “Cartel?”
“Yeah.”
“There’s a cartel in Waco?” I asked in shock.
“Yes,” Colt admitted.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“The cartel is involved in the skin trade.”
“Skin trade? You mean human trafficking?”
