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“Someone’s in trouble?”
With his hand full, he doesn’t sign, but I don’t have the energy to fine him for it. Instead, I keep my eyes on his lips.
“Who?”
“Violet Simpson.”
He scrunches his nose as if thinking, and then his eyes widen. “The chick from that church show?”
I nod absently. All of my thoughts are on Violet and what I might find when I reach her. Despite it being seconds, it feels like hours before we reach the garage, but when we do, I head straight for the van. I want to ride my Harley, but don’t want to get stuck with no way to transport her if she’s hurt.
My cell vibrates, and I show Abyss the address Jez sent.
“Fucking drive!”
And he does.
It takes longer than I’d like to reach Violet’s apartment building in Henderson, but as soon as he slows the van to pull into a parking spot close to the entrance, I throw open the door and take off running.
When I get to apartment 27A, I pound on the door. After several seconds and no answer, I grab the knob and twist, surprised to find it unlocked. It briefly crosses my mind that others would see me as a creeper breaking in, but I don’t give a shit. Let someone call the cops on me… it won’t end well for them.
As soon as I step inside, the scent of blood invades my nostrils, and my muscles tense. The living room is in chaos. Broken glass is scattered on the floor, and I cautiously move forward to inspect the scene.
My heart thunders against my ribs as I step around the couch, terrified of what I’ll find.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt fear… real fucking fear.
Violet is in a crumpled heap, and she appears even smaller than I remember. I rush to her side and drop to my knees, not giving a damn about the glass digging through my jeans and piercing my skin.
Tentatively,reverently, I reach out and touch her cheek… her impossibly swollen cheek. Her eyes are closed, and she’s so damn still, I can’t help but wonder if she’s even alive.
Who the fuck did this?
Abyss drops down on Violet’s opposite side and waves a hand to get my attention. When I lift my gaze to him, he lifts his hands.
“We need to get her back to the clubhouse.”
No shit!
He grabs Violet’s wrist and checks for a pulse, and I mentally berate myself for not doing it already. His shoulders sag with relief so I know he found one. Abyss’s fingers begin to move swiftly, but I don’t catch a word.
I stare at him, unable to comprehend what’s happening. The fact that there’s evil in the world is not a shocker, but that it would touch someone as sweet and as innocent as Violet… that has me embroiled with rage.
You don’t even know her.
And yet, it doesn’t seem to matter. Every single protective instinct I have flares to life, and I know there isn’t a person or thing in this world who can get to her from this point on. They’ll have to go through the Grim Reaper first.
And that’s not fucking happening.
A bitch slap to the face pulls me out of my stupor, and I glare at Abyss.
He smirks. “Wouldn’t have had to do that if you were paying attention.”
Without responding, I shift to my feet and lift Violet gently in my arms. I have no fucking clue what her injuries are, but I know that we can’t stay here if Abyss has a chance in hell of making her better.
“Be careful with her,” my brother mouths.
Carrying Violet to the van, my mind wanders to finding and purging the person who did this to her. A feeling of calm washes over me when I imagine my hands around her attacker's throat, my ax slicing through their flesh and slicing them into smithereens.
