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“Did he say anything?” she begged in front of Cheyenne.
He watched Cheyenne curl her lip. “Who the hell are you?”
Trax tightened his grip around her in warning. He jerked her to his chest, glaring down at her. “Don’t.” He wasn’t sure what Cheyenne would say next, but he wouldn’t let Meg take the brunt of anything. She’d been through too much already. Cheyenne was hurt, and he would find out what happened to her, but there was no fucking way he’d stand by and let her disrespect Meg. He narrowed his eyes at Cheyenne, who stared back with a glimpse of confusion. He whispered, “She’s been through enough, don’t fuck with her.” He watched as Cheyenne’s anger sobered and she furrowed her brows.
“I’m his wife.”
Cheyenne’s face paled, and her snarking lips curved into a frown. “Meg?” she whispered, and her struggling subsided. Trax felt her relax into his back, and he held her weight to keep her from falling. Her reaction to Mick’s widow and knowing her name struck him as odd. He peered down, watching her lips tug down into a somber frown. How the hell did she know Meg’s name?
“Trax, get her in back now,” Kase commanded with a low snarl. Trax pushed her forward past Meg who trailed behind them. Her body had loosened, and she easily walked ahead of him, not even reacting to the way he tightened his grip on her. All the anger and fight seemingly left her body.
“Wait, let me talk to her. Please, Trax.”
“She doesn’t know anything. Anything she says will just upset you.” He watched as one of the women wrapped her arms over Meg’s shoulders, trying to calm her. Trax glanced over his shoulder to see Meg trying to rush past the group surrounding her. “Meg, stop.”
“He said your name.” The soft whisper came from the woman he held bound. His gaze dropped to her. She leaned over, looking back at Meg. Her face was soft, and her eyes were the sincerest he’d ever seen a woman look. She smiled and nodded. “The last thing he said before he closed his eyes was your name.”
Meg started to cry, a sight that broke Trax’s cold heart. The tears streamed down her face, and she nodded, mouthing, “Thank you,” to Cheyenne.
“Trax,” Kase shouted, and he quickly moved her forward into one of the empty rooms. The men followed him, and when he breached the threshold, he released her. She darted forward into the corner with her head hung low.
She curled into the wall as if to blend into it. She was like a wounded animal, scared and broken.
Gage, Rourke, and Saint followed him inside. Kase came into the room, slamming the door shut with so much force Cheyenne trembled again, sinking deeper into the corner. Her legs gave out, and she slithered down the wall, her face shielded by her hands.
“What the fuck happened to her?” Kase barked.
“She came in and started yelling about us lying and shit. I’m still gonna go with my gut and say meth head,” Gage said and then snickered. His friend was known for making light of fucked-up situations. This time it wasn’t welcome.
“Are you looking at the same girl I am? Do you see anything fucking funny about this situation?” Saint glared as he watched Gage sober up, his lips flattening. He glanced over at Trax and lifted his chin in her direction.
Trax moved toward her. His steps were heavy, and her head jerked in his direction. With her eyes the size of saucers, she bolted from the floor, scurrying to the opposite corner of the room. She tugged tightly at the opening of her shirt. With all the chaos, it took him a minute to realize she was panicked and now trapped in a room with five large, intimidating, virile men. Her mind could only be going in one place.
He slid off his cut and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it off.
She wept. “Oh God, please no.” Her sobs grew louder, confirming what she thought was going to happen to her. Her arm struck out, and he saw her shaking. The pure terror in her tone struck Trax in a way he’d never felt. A possession and need to protect her filtered through his body.
“Shhh… relax, not gonna hurt you, you have my word.” It was rare for Trax to even care about soothing anyone. If they were scared of him, fuck them, it was their problem. With her, he wanted her calm, not afraid. The whole scene was fucked, and seeing her scared to the point of panic ripped at something inside him. The woman who’d taken up residence in his head since he’d laid eyes on her was not the girl shaking in front of him now.
She snorted in disgust. “Your word means nothing.”
He had tried to forget her, block her brown eyes and sweet body from his mind, but he couldn’t. Seeing her like that enraged him. He barely knew this Cheyenne, yet he felt a strong possession over her. As though she was his.
He kneeled down, pulling lightly at her arm. She struggled, her words coming out as a stutter. “P-please don’t do this. I-I’m sorry I came here, just let me go, I won’t come back, I promise.” Her words were mumbled by her erratic breath, tears streaming down her face. She was begging. “I-I promise.”
“Relax,” he whispered. “Not gonna hurt you, Cheyenne, okay?”
She watched him with zero trust in her eyes. Good. She shouldn’t trust him or anyone else. He wasn’t going to hurt her, in fact, he’d kill anyone who tried to step near her at this moment, but trust needed to be earned. Something the club had obviously failed on.
“I’m just gonna cover you up, sweetheart, okay?”
He smoothed the hair away from her face. It was soaked from tears. He was not a gentle man, but he paid close attention to how he handled her. He collared the shirt, putting it over her head and lightly drawing her arms through the sleeves. She didn’t help him but didn’t fight it, either. She was on high alert. His white tee engulfed her, reminding him of how small she was.
When he reached for her legs, he expected a fight. He was wrong. Her body was limp, and if not for the sound of her breaths, he’d think she had passed out.
“I’m gonna get ya off the floor now.”
He lifted her dead weight and hooked the chair leg with his foot, pulling it closer to him, and set her down.
