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“Fuck, lady,” a mocha-skinned man with dreadlocks stares at me. “Are you okay?”
My mouth hangs open as I ogle the young man before me. His name is Justice. I know this from Kaiya’s photos as well as the tag on his cut.
“I’m fine, Justice,” I say while trying to extract myself from my car. “I’m here to see Kaiya.”
Taking my hand, he helps me out of the car. He doesn’t ask how I know his name, but his gaze assesses me. If he hadn’t seen me, I would have driven away, found a motel, and lied to Kaiya. But he has seen me and there’s no turning back now.
“No offense,” he says as he walks beside me looking like he’s afraid I may pass out or fall. “But you don’t look fine.”
“I’m sure I don’t.” I smirk at him as he swings the door open for us to enter.
No more words pass between us because the moment we walk in, Kaiya’s gaze finds me.
“What the ever-loving fuck happened to you?” she shrieks.
The attention of every man and woman in the building shifts to me and I’m acutely aware that this is what an ant must feel like under a microscope.
I smirk and shrug nonchalantly. “Nothing much,” I reply in a sarcastic tone. “Got in a fight.”
Before I can blink, both Kaiya and Storm are in front of me along with a beautiful blonde woman I know to be Hadley. The men are watching closely with a wariness I can feel all the way to my soul. They are assessing the situation, trying to decide if I have brought problems to their doorstep.
“With whom?” Storm asks. “An MMA fighter?”
I chuckle lightly. I don’t look that bad. My eye is swollen, my lip is split, and my nose is a little more crooked than before, but I have seen women look far worse when they show up at the shelter where I work. The real damage I took was to my pride. I just can’t figure out how I ended up in this situation. Did I consciously miss all the red flags? Because thinking back, there were many.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say and try to smile but it feels more like a grimace. “It won’t be happening again.”
“Irene,” Kaiya cuts in. “This isn’t nothing. You need to go to a hospital. You shouldn’t have been driving like this.”
I can hear her picking up speed. In the past year, I’ve gotten to know her pretty well. I know that when she cares for someone, she cares deeply. If I don’t stop her now, I’ll probably end up in bubble wrap and she doesn’t even know what happened to me. My gaze sweeps the gathering before landing on Mad Dog, pleading with him to help me.
He shakes his head before walking up behind her and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Babe, Irene says she’s fine,” he says to her.
“Does she look fine?” Kaiya shouts loudly.
“She looks like she could use a tequila and a beer,” an older man says. He’s wearing a cut with a tag that says “Viking,” and he gently puts his arm around my shoulder. “How does that sound?” he asks me.
“Divine.” I sigh as he leads me through the crowd toward the bar.
Chapter Five
A Fucked-Up Vision
Beast
“That’s fucked up,” Justice leans closer over the bar so he won’t be heard, but keeps his gaze glued to the woman at the end—Irene.
Kaiya has told us so much about her. I’ve seen the two of them video call at all hours of the day and night. Mad Dog once told me that Irene was instrumental in getting Kaiya to move past the shit her brother and his fucked-up little club had put her through. Kaiya went through more than most people do in a lifetime. They assaulted her, branded her, and treated her like she wasn’t even a human being. She was so broken when she first came to us, but Irene helped her to heal and move on with her life.
If you hadn’t known Kaiya before, you wouldn’t ever be able to believe the confident, outgoing woman had a hard life at all.
By all accounts, Irene is an amazing woman, and seeing her bruised and clearly beaten has me wondering what could have possibly happened to her.
“Definitely,” I reply as I take a swig of my beer.
I’m trying my best not to stare at her, but my gaze keeps getting drawn back. Raven-colored hair that cascades down her back even though it’s tied at the nape of her neck, she is short but with curves that could bring any red-blooded man to his knees. Even through the bruising I can see she is beautiful. If she didn’t look like she just escaped a war, I would be all over that woman.
“Do you think she’s on the run?” my brother asks.
