Page 66 of Kneeling to Candy

The fucking gall.

With my hands on my hips, I snap at my brother. “And what if it was Jared who was trafficked for five years, wanting to be involved in a mission that would put him right back into the path of the sodomizing fuck? You telling me you’d be okay with sending him in untrained?”

“You’re not giving Candy enough credit, Butch,” Ziggy says curtly. “I believe her when she says she’s not going to crumble under the pressure. Candy has dealt with enough pressure in her life to prove her point. Stop downplaying her ability and give her a chance.”

I bite my tongue, turning away from my brother before I say something I can’t take back.

“Piero still needs to contact the ringleader of the trafficking organization, giving us plenty of time to give Candy a quick course in self-defense,” Atlas adds. “The odds of her having to use any defense tactics with us there surrounding her are low. However, in a worst-case scenario, she’ll have enough skills to hold anyone off until we reach her.”

“This is bullshit!” I yell. “What happened to not putting our women in danger?”

“Is she yours?” Atlas challenges, with a raised eyebrow. “Because your attitude is enough to drive a fucking wedge between whatever you thought you had.”

His words halt me. “What?”

“You basically called her weak, incompetent, and too emotional to work this case,” Atlas informs me. “Candy may be a sexual assault survivor dealing with her trauma, but she’s none of the things you were accusing her of.”

“You’ll be lucky if you didn’t blow your relationship out the gate,” Ziggy deadpans.

My heart rate spikes, worry leeching into my nerves. “I’m trying to keep her safe.”

“No one envies you, brother,” Gauge placates. “But you’ll be interfering in Candy’s healing process if you demand she stay off this case.”

“How?” I ask, baffled.

“Everyone is different when dealing with past trauma. Some bury it. Some manage it in counseling. And then there are some who need to face it head-on, confronting the one who wronged them.”

Gauge’s words sink like lead in my gut. “Are you suggesting Candy needs to confront her abuser to move past what he did to her?”

“I’m not suggesting anything,” Gauge corrects my thinking. “Candy did.”

Holy shit.

She did say it in a roundabout way. I just wasn’t listening.

I run my hands over my head. “Fuck, I’m the asshole in this mess.”

“No shit,” Ziggy quips. “Damage control should be the only thing you should be worried about. Candy working this case sucks for you, but not as much as losing her.”

“How do I fix this?”

Atlas slaps me on the shoulder as he heads out of his office. “Grovel. Grovel like you’re prepared to spend the rest of your life on your knees.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CANDY

When I left Atlas’s office, my first instinct was to go to Butch’s suite to calm down. After upgrading from the storage supply closet, it’s an impulse reaction to enter my disobedient biker’s space.

Heated from my altercation with Butch, I stomp my feet as I make my way upstairs to his room. Once outside his door, my hand hovers above the handle like many times the year prior—doubting if Butch’s invitation was legit. However, this time my hesitation is not from doubt, but stubbornness.

I turn on my heels, marching across the hall to Ebony’s room.

Not bothering to knock, I let myself into her space. The door slamming behind me does nothing to take the edge off my temper as I hoped.

“Fucking men.”

Ebony pops her head around the corner of her bathroom. Her black hair is in giant rollers, and she’s dressed in her red silk robe with half her makeup on. I must have interrupted her getting ready for the day. After all, the MC ladies were invited over text to Jo’s for lunch, and Ebony doesn’t go anywhere without her hair done and face full of makeup.

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