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“Eight down; dead. Six hurt. We will meet you at the truck,” Lennox calls through our coms.
“Clear to go,” Maverick says.
“Royal is running,” I reply, laughing.
I hear cackling, comments on how the chick is fucked for making him run. He is a fit bastard and hits the gym as much as me, but the fucker hates running and says that we should only be running if we are being chased by zombies.
“We are going to be dealing with a grumpy ass Royal tonight, boys,” I say as I round the corner, seeing Royal has the chick pinned to the floor.
She is screaming at him to let her go, that she doesn’t want to go home. You can see she is freaking out, and in need of some help. He pulls her to her feet, helping her balance.
“Here,” I say, removing my cut, and then my black T-shirt, handing it to my brother to pull over her naked form.
Slipping my cut back on over my naked torso, my gaze connects with her. She looks sad, scared, I can see the pain and sadness in her eyes.
“Thanks. Why are you doing this?” she asks in a small voice.
“Your family is worried about you, sweetheart. They hired us to bring you home safely. I am not sure how safe you would have been if you were a man making my boy here run.” I point to Royal, chuckling.
“Why do you hate running? You look good.”
Shaking his head, Royal leads her over to the truck, where the guys all meet us. Finan helps her put some shoes on and helps her take a drink of water in the back seat.
“Do you need to see a doctor?” Finan asks her, but she is already shaking her head.
“Sweetheart, have you seen a doctor about that?” I point to her slightly rounding stomach, showing her early pregnancy.
Her body begins to shake, tears filling her eyes. Maverick steps closer to her, holding his hands up, showing he means her no harm.
“Did they do this to you?” He gestures to her baby bump, and she nods.
“With or without consent?” is my question.
Shaking her head back and forth, my anger grows.
“This is why they brought you here. They took what they wanted and got you pregnant, and they want the baby. Am I close?”
Tears fall down her cheeks fast as I ask but she nods, confirming what I am thinking.
“Why don’t you want to go home? Surely your family will help and support you.”
Her eyes go wide, and she looks frantic.
“My family is very strict. My father is ex-Army; life was hell growing up. They would never allow me to keep the baby.” Her voice lowers. “Especially with how it happened.”
“Shit,” I mutter.
“I’ll call Sarge and explain. We can’t take her home if there is a possibility they will harm her. Fuck that shit,” Maverick growls, walking away to make the call.
“We are spending the night with a friendly club. You are safe with us, you can have a hot shower, get some hot food in you and rest easy; we won’t let anything happen to you. Got it?” I tell her.
“Okay.”
“Sarge said to keep her until he deals with her folks. If they piss him off, his words not mine, then we will help her get settled somewhere safe for her and the baby.”
See, Sarge is a big softie at heart, but I would never say that shit to his face. I value my life.
She sniffles, crying harder. Finan comforts her which is strange because he is not the overly touchy type unless it is his woman and kid, or family. We all load up, and drive the few hours to Tallahassee, to the clubhouse that belongs to the Pres, Buck, and the VP, Wings, old Army buddies of our father’s.
