Page 55 of Kneeling to Candy

She might be worried about the questions the team will ask her. I’m quick to reassure her. “Nothing too personal with what you experienced. The questions will be geared towards the operations of the trafficking business. Whatever you can tell us will be helpful.”

“Seriously?” she prods again, her lips down-turned. “That’s it?”

“Yes, sweetness. No more.”

My woman hastily swipes at her face, removing the last of her tears. She seems more collected. “Can you hand me my phone?”

Obliging, I rise to my feet and retrieve her cell from the nightstand, handing it to her. She sniffles as she punches a few buttons and brings the phone to her ear. I sit beside her, wondering who she’s calling.

“Hey, Brandon. It’s Candy.”

My stomach sinks hearing her on the phone with her counselor. Man, did I read her wrong? I could have sworn she was okay by the way she was behaving after I broke the news.

Sure, she was shocked when I mentioned the trafficking case. But I didn’t think she was reacting negatively enough to contact her counselor. There was a risk bringing this assignment to her attention would upset her. And I guess it did. I hate I was the one who had to mention it to her.

“We’re not scheduled for an appointment for a few days yet, but something has come up. Could you come to headquarters, please? There’s something I need to discuss.”

There’s a pause before Candy says, “Thanks, Brandon. See you soon.”

She ends the call, tossing her cell aside with a forlorn expression.

“What do you need from me, Goddess? Tell me what to do to make you feel better.”

“Just sit with me,” she whispers as she reaches for me.

No need to ask twice. I scoot closer to my woman and wrap my arm around her, holding her close to my side as we wait for Brandon to arrive.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CANDY

Forty-five minutes after Butch mentioned the crew wanting to question me, Brandon arrives. Not wasting any time, I fill him in on what the bikers want from me.

One perk to having a MC therapist on-call is, he’s always there when you sense yourself ready to spiral into depression.

But that’s not why I contacted Brandon.

I need an unbiased outside perspective to tell me if I’m out of line for what I plan on suggesting to Atlas and the team.

My biker family will be against it, and I’ll need to convince them it’s the best shot we have to uncover who’s behind the abductions.

Brandon sits across from me in one of the smaller conference rooms at headquarters. His demeanor is relaxed and his face impassive. “What do you want to do, Candy?”

Easy. “I want to help the crew.”

He nods. “You sound sure of your decision. Answering the team’s questions will help with the investigation.”

“Yeah.” I bite my thumbnail, unsure of how to broach the extent of how much I want to help.

Brandon cocks his head in that quizzical way all therapists do when he notices my hesitation. “Candy? Is there something else you want to share with me?”

Uncomfortable with being put on the spot, I fidget in my seat. “What if I want to extend my help beyond answering questions?”

Brandon blinks rapidly at me, like he’s trying to absorb the meaning behind my question. “I’m afraid to ask what you mean.”

My legs cross and uncross beneath me as I fight with my uncertainty. “I think this is fate telling me to get involved with the heavier lifting in this investigation.”

My counselor breaks professional character, pinching the bridge of his nose with a groan. “Candy…”

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