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“Me and Noelle have been here guarding the door,” Ridge said, glancing over at Rogue. “I think, considering the circumstances, it would be best if only Trey went into the room.”
Fuck!
Trey turned and gripped the handle. He had no idea what he’d be walking into.
Trey opened the door, peering around the dark room. There was little light streaming in from the half window. It was only enough to illuminate the small figure in the corner of the room. She never even lifted her head, but her whole body trembled. Caine’s black shirt lay next to her a few feet away. She hadn’t put it on.
Trey glanced down at the floor where underwear had been discarded. On the opposite side of the room, a cracked wall and stained bloody streaks led to the door.
Trey was careful with his steps, slow and quiet as he took in the scene. This visual would forever be ingrained in his head. He’d never be free of it. Some things in life, the horrific moments, would forever stay with a person. A form of prison they were unable to escape when they closed their eyes. This is mine.
Trey bent down, rested his elbows on his knees, and whispered, “Dahlia.”
Her reaction was immediate. Her body stilled but tensed, and she slowly turned her head and peeked up at him over her arm. Her eyes were glassy and bloodshot as if she’d spent the last few days wide awake and crying. The black streaks from her makeup formed messy lines down to her chin. The two cuts over her cheek were darkened with dried blood, and her hair was in disarray and matted in spots.
But she’s safe.
Trey was saying it more for himself than as an actual truth. He needed to remind himself of that fact if he had any hope of getting through the next few minutes. She didn’t need his rage and anger. That wouldn’t benefit her. Dahlia needed to feel safe.
He slowly reached out, expecting her to flinch or shy away. Instead, she curved her cheek against his palm and fell to her side, grasping his shirt. Trey curved his hand over her back, curling her into his chest. After everything she’d been through, Dahlia should’ve been pulling away, but she wrapped her arms over his shoulders, tightened her hold, and pressed her face into the crook of his neck.
He wasn’t sure how long they stayed there. But it would’ve been hours had she not loosened her grip. Trey was prepared to give her exactly what she needed. As much time as it would take for her to find safety and comfort, knowing no one was going to touch her.
Trey reached behind him, feeling blindly, until he hooked his finger over the smooth material. Caine’s shirt. Dahlia remained clutched around him. It would have been easier to get her dressed had they had a little distance, but Trey would work with their current position. He led her arms through the shirt, and when it was on her, she settled back a few inches, and he buttoned it, leaving only the collar undone.
“I’m okay.” Her voice cracked, and it wasn’t very convincing. Trey read through it, but he also saw the reassurance for what it was. After everything she’d been through, Dahlia was trying to settle him down. He cupped her jaw, brushing his lips gently against hers.
“I’m going to take you home.”
Dahlia sniffled and nodded.
When she attempted to stand, Trey straightened his legs, bent down, hooked one arm under her knees, and slid the other around her back.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Dahlia was clutched to Trey with her arms wrapped around his shoulders when he opened the door. It was silent as if they were the only people there. It felt safe to open her eyes. It was the wrong move. All the men were lined up against the wall in the hall, along with Noelle. She quickly averted her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat. She felt completely exposed. Not only in the physical sense, but they knew she’d been attacked. She could only imagine their mind would go to the absolute worst-case scenario.
Trey started forward but abruptly stopped when Rogue stepped in his path. Dahlia stared back at him, and for the first time in his presence, she didn’t have any fear or nervousness. It was almost a comfort as if she knew Rogue, along with Oz and all the security, wouldn’t let anything else happen to her.
She expected him to say something, but Rogue remained silent, scanning her face. She hadn’t seen herself yet, but between the dried blood, her busted lip, and her swollen eye, she must have looked like a complete nightmare. His features tightened and pronounced the harsh angles of his face while his right temple pulsed. She’d seen Rogue angry, but never like this. He jerked his head and stormed down toward the end of the hall.
Oz gestured for security to follow, leaving them alone in the hallway, just the three of them.
“The car is outside waiting to take her to your apartment. Sending her three. Darren will drive her, Lewis and Noelle will follow,” Oz said. Unlike Rogue, he didn’t even look at her. “I’ve made arrangements so she won’t be alone.”
Trey simply nodded and started down the hall. She wasn’t sure why she looked back, but when she did, Oz was staring at her. His gaze softened, and he gave her a small nod.
Dahlia hugged her arms tighter around Trey and pressed her face into the crook of his neck. She just wanted this to all be over. In a perfect world, she’d wake up, and it would’ve all been a nightmare. But life wasn’t perfect, and this was her reality.
Dahlia didn’t pay much attention to the men outside of the house until she heard the engines. She’d know that sound anywhere. She opened her eyes, turned her head, and squinted. They were bikers and definitely belonged to a club, but not one she’d ever associated with. Notorious was an understatement for the Killcreek Drifters.
Trey brushed his lips against her forehead and whispered, “If I had called East, they all would’ve come.”
Yes, they would have. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind.
“Thanks for saving me.”
Trey kissed her temple and whispered, “You saved yourself.”
