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“That’s enough, son,” someone else says. This voice I do recognize. Cy.
Knowing all these men are seeing me like this, battered and broken, has me burying my face even deeper into Colin’s neck, despite the pain from Ray’s hit. Physical pain is nothing compared to the embarrassment I feel in this situation.
“Goddamn it,” Colin curses the second I feel the sun touch my skin. “I came on my bike. Dutch, can you get the keys to Navy’s car and call for a prospect to get my bike?”
“You want a prospect to ride your bike?” Dutch asks, astonishment in his tone.
“Don’t have a fuckin’ choice, now do I?”
“Guess not. I’ll wait here to make sure that fucker in there doesn’t mess with it.”
Everything in me screams that I shouldn’t be letting Colin make decisions about what happens to me right now. I should be strong, make him put me down. I should drive away from here. I trusted Colin once, and he let me down, so I shouldn’t depend on him now.
But I’m so goddamn tired of being self-reliant. So tired of having no one in this world who gives a damn about me. I’m going to choose to believe his reasons for leaving. Choose to believe he won’t abandon me again and give up my control. Once I get myself together, I’ll be okay. I’ll stand on my own two feet again. Right now, though, I need him.
“Here you go, brother,” a voice I now recognize as Dutch says. Keys jingle, and Colin’s hand leaves my back for only a second.
“I have to put you in the car now, okay?” he murmurs against my hair before kissing my head. I choke on my sob at the sentiment. Can’t he see how dirty I am? How used and gross I am? I don’t deserve such a sweet gesture. “What’s wrong? What did I do?”
“Nothing, I’m fine.” I cling to his neck as he opens the car door one-handed and sets me inside as though I weigh nothing. Crouching at my side, he tips my head up, getting his first look at me.
“Motherfucker,” he curses and jumps to his feet before storming back up to the house.
“No. Don’t. He’s not worth it!” I yell out.
Dutch meets him at the front door, placing both hands on Colin’s chest. The rage emanating from Colin is palpable, making him stronger than Dutch, despite Dutch’s bulkier build. Colin nearly pushes him out of the way when Golden and Cy reach Dutch’s side, backing him up. Colin’s arms flail as they attempt to reason with him, but it only makes him angrier. He shoves Dutch in the chest, making him stumble backward.
I force myself to my feet just outside the car. “Rigger!” I yell as loud as my hoarse throat will let me, and everyone freezes. “Please. Get me out of here.”
CHAPTERNINETEEN
RIGGER
Hearing her call me by my road name gives me pause. It’s probably the only thing that could’ve broken through the red over my vision. Ray fucked her up good. I know it’s not the first time, but it’s sure as shit the last. I’m making it my life’s mission to see him meet the Reaper before I do. That’s the only way I can be certain he can’t go near her again.
“Come on, Rig. She’s in a bad way and needs help. Get her back to the Honey Pot so the doc can look at her,” Golden says.
I hang my head and take two deep breaths. I’m not the kind of man who walks away from a fight, but I need to walk away from this one. I know I do. Hell if it’s not the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
“Yeah, okay.” I run a hand over my head and walk back to the car, noticing the pained look on Vivi’s face as she slowly lowers herself back into the passenger seat. She’s got wounds I don’t even know about yet, and it makes leaving Ray alive even more difficult. Before I slide behind the wheel, I call out one more request from Dutch. “Call the doc and have her meet us there.”
The ride back to the Honey Pot feels like it takes a goddamn year. Vivi keeps her head turned away from me, looking out the window, while I split my time between the road and her. There’s a lot we need to talk about, but it’ll have to wait until she’s cleaned up and checked out.
When we finally reach our destination, I park out front since the clinic is closer to the entrance than Vivi’s suite. I’m pleased to see a mattress delivery van out front, plus the BMW I know belongs to the interior designer who helped put this place together. She’s no doubt making a list of things that need replacing.
Climbing out of the car, I jog to the passenger side before Vivi can get out. Once again, I scoop her into my arms. Despite the situation, I love how close this makes us.
“I don’t want everyone to see me like this,” she says.
“Like what? Strong as fuck because you survived something godawful?”
She shakes her head, currently buried in my neck. “I don’t want to see the pity.”
“Well, that’s good because they won’t give you none.”
Given the stress of the morning, the brothel is busier than it usually is. More of my brothers have shown up to do the heavy lifting, and the girls are still running around, getting things back to rights. Much like I thought, no looks of pity are thrown our way as I walk through the parlor. Just words of support, everyone letting Vivi know they’re here for her. No one knows what happened, and that shit will be kept quiet by everyone involved so Vivi can control what she wants her story to be.
Respect is built into our code, and our code is law.
