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“Baby, who are you talking about?” I asked, trying to keep the tone of my voice level, giving the illusion I was completely in control. “Who needed to see me?”
“I couldn’t stop them,” she said, her voice catching and tears brimming in her eyes as she finally focused on my face again.
“Missy, who?”
“Grace.”
I glanced over my shoulder, noting the grim look on Bishop’s face as he stood behind me, his shoulders pressed back as if he was a soldier ready to walk into battle.
He’d heard that too.
Why the hell was Grace out in this part of town?
She only ever came to the city on a Monday.
“The boys are all on their way back, and I called Doc,” Cain announced, leaning in the window on the passenger’s side that I realized wasn’t rolled down but was completely broken. He picked out a couple of pieces of glass and tossed them onto the concrete. “This is a lot of damage.”
Didn’t I fucking know it.
An icy sensation began working its way up my spine. It was a warning, letting me know that I needed to be cautious. There was something going on here that was extremely fucking wrong.
But my first priority was to get Missy somewhere safe. I pinched her chin between my thumb and pointer finger and leaned into the car, pressing my lips lightly against hers, trying not to hurt her any further. “You got away, you raised the alarm,” I whispered softly when I pulled back, holding her gaze. “You did good, baby. Now we’re gonna go inside and get you looked at, then you can tell me more.”
She nodded, swallowing hard as she gripped my hand tightly, using my body as leverage to help her get out of the car. When she was on her feet, I hooked my arm under her knees and lifted her into my arms. She buried her face into my chest, and I finally felt her body relax.
It was almost physically painful seeing her curled in on herself like that.
I’d seen this woman take to one of my brothers with a damn bat.
I’d watched her stand up to men like Robert—three times her size—and still not back down.
Whatever happened today had rattled her fucking deep. These assholes had hurt her, and they’d hurt my sister.
Someone needed to pay for that.
And the price would be great.
MISSY
“Call me straight away if she starts to go downhill,” Doctor Yates told Hawk, pushing his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. “That blow to the head will probably make you feel pretty awful for the next couple of days. Make sure you rest.”
I already felt pretty fucking awful.
Not just because I couldn’t quite decide whether I wanted to sleep or puke, but I also kept seeing flashes of Grace being dragged away, hearing her screaming, telling me to run while they were taking her God fucking knows where.
“Thanks, Doc,” Hawk said, patting the old doctor on the back and directing him out of the bedroom and into the hall. Hawk had refused to let me leave his room or discuss what happened until I got looked at. He’d stood stoically in the corner for the past hour while the doctor meticulously examined my body and every little bruise or sign of pain before finally deciding there was probably no internal damage done.
The pain came in waves, but the guilt was buried deep in my stomach.
I should have done more.
I should have paid more attention.
“Stop it.” His demanding growl should have set me straight instantly, but I was in too deep, drowning in my own self-loathing. He pushed the bedroom door closed behind him and came around the bed, taking a seat on the edge and reaching for my face. His hand curled around my jaw, and I leaned into it as I held his gaze. “You did your best.”
“D-did I?” I challenged, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat, trying again. “Did I really? Your sister is seven months pregnant. I should have got out, tried to get them to take me instead.”
“You were knocked unconscious for several fucking seconds, maybe more,” he argued, moving his hand to the back of my neck and gently pressing his forehead to mine. “You’re lucky that blow to the head didn’t fucking kill you!”
