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I smirk. “Hate to break it to you, but there’s not much humanity left in this body.”
She looks deep into my eyes, so deep that it makes me uncomfortable. What does she think she’ll find? Compassion? Goodness? It’s not there. I learned early on that kindness is weakness, and in my world, that’ll only get you killed.
“Yes, there is. I see it. Maybe you’ve stuffed it down, but it’s still there.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Only for my club.”
“And me,” she says.
“How can you say that? I left you withhim.”
She shakes her head. “You thought I was being taken care of. You thought you were protecting me.”
I sigh. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
“That’s not what this is.”
“Why are you trying to comfort me? I’m not the one with a battered face.”
She squeezes my hands. “Because I need you to understand that what’s been happening to me isn’t your fault, and it’s not your battle to fight. You’re doing everything you can now. You gave me a good-paying job, and after a month or two, I’ll have enough to convince Mom we don’t need him. We’ll move to Henderson, and Ray will be left alone to suffer the consequences of his own karma.”
She’s right, but not in the way she thinks. Ray’s karma is coming for him, but it’s coming by way of my ropes. Maybe then she won’t have to leave. She can stay here and. . . and what? Be a family? No, I already have a family in my club. I don’t know what I want from her. I just know I don’t want her to leave.
And Ireallyfucking want Ray to pay. My hands itch to feel the burn of my ropes scratching my palms as I wrap them around his fucking throat.
My ringing cell pulls me from my fantasy. I take it out of my back pocket and glance at the screen. Cy wants me at the clubhouse.
“Gotta run.” I open my arms, and without question, she falls into me.
I hug her close, thankful that all the animosity between us feels like it’s been squashed. If I’m smart about it, she’ll never have to know I’m responsible for Ray’s death. It sounds like he’s gotten himself involved with enough dirty dealings that there’ll always be probable deniability on my end. “You okay staying here alone?”
“Yeah. I’m good.”
I give a curt nod. “There’s a panic button on the underside of the window ledge. You press it, and someone will be here within thirty seconds.”
She pulls away, glancing at the window. “Good to know.”
“I’ll come by tomorrow morning to help get you going with Mary.”
“You don’t need to do that. I think Mary would respect me more if you weren’t constantly stepping in.”
I nod, impressed at how seriously she’s taking this job. “Okay, but I’m still stopping in to check on things at some point.”
“I’d like that.” She plops down on her bed, looking exhausted.
“Get some rest.” I don’t know why I do, but I bend to kiss the top of her head. It would’ve been normal fifteen years ago, but now, I don’t know. The sentiment is different.
Before I think too long about it, I walk out of the room, making sure the door is secure before stepping out into the night.
* * *
“Cy’s waiting for you in the chapel,” Lucky says the second I enter the clubhouse.
The mood in here is off. The brothers sitting at the bar aren’t making eye contact with me, and even Lucky avoids my gaze. What the fuck is going on?
“Okay.” Feeling uneasy, I open the door to find Cy sitting in his normal place at the head of the table. But he’s not alone. Sitting on either side of him are two men I don’t recognize. One is a thin, older gentleman with graying temples and deep lines engraved on his face from age. The other is younger and bulkier, but there’s no denying his relation to the older man. They share a Roman nose, prominent cheekbones, and dark eyes.
“Rig, thanks for coming in.” Cy motions to the chair at the opposite end of the table. “Close the door behind you and have a seat.”
