Page 60 of Callow

“It’s fine,” Daphne said, looking between both of us like we were fucking idiots. Which, damn, you had to appreciate the kid’s spirit.

“Daphne…”

“I want them to find them,” she said to her mother. “I’m the only one who saw the other guy. I don’t know how good I’ll be at describing him, though,” she admitted. “I never understood how people describe their attackers for those artist cops or whatever.”

“I dunno either,” I admitted. “Might take a bit, to be honest. But Croft is a good artist. I’m sure he will figure it out.”

“I’ll give it a shot,” Daph said, nodding.

“I really appreciate it.”

“Do you want me to start now?” she asked, already getting to her feet. “Then you can… talk to Mom about everything,” she added, none too subtly rushing toward the door. “I know who Croft is,” she added as she went out into the hallway and closed the door.

“I’m so fucking sorry, babe,” I said as Sabrina watched the door close.

To that, she sighed as she looked over at me.

“I don’t think we can really say this is your fault,” she said. “Daphne never should have been there. If she’d been at school like she was supposed to be, no one would have seen her and known to try to… track her down.”

That might technically have been true, but it felt wrong to agree and, essentially, blame a teenager for being a target.

“It’s just… bad luck, I guess,” she added. “Do you think we have something to be worried about moving forward?”

“Honestly?” I said, sucking in a deep breath. “Yes.”

“Oh,” Sabrina said, looking taken aback. “Don’t sugarcoat it or anything,” she added, attempting a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I don’t want you to get a false sense of security about this. It’s not a good sign that they sought out and found Daphne. Especially because, as of right now, we don’t know who these guys are. Knowing about the tattoo and a possible other sketch might help now, but as it stands, we have no fucking idea what these fucks want or what they’re capable of.”

“Do you think they were trying to… kill Daphne?”

“I don’t know. It could have been that. Or it could have been more of a kidnapping-type situation. I can’t write off any possibility now that we know it’s the same guys.”

Sabrina was deceptively calm for a second there.

Then her head fell and a strobe-like breath escaped her, sounding dangerously close to crying again.

“Hey,” I said, getting out of the chair and moving to sit down beside her, my arm snaking around her and curling her into me. “I’m not gonna let these fucks hurt her.”

“I don’t really know how you can stop them,” she said, but she leaned her head into me, stealing some comfort I was happy to give her. Even if my own internal world was a fucking war zone right then.

There were a lot of ways the club protected their own.

First, of course, their homes being secure as fuck. There was more I could do for Sabrina’s apartment. But it was an apartment building. There were too many blindspots. Too many places where one or both of them could be cornered and grabbed.

The logistics sucked.

The other option was round-the-clock guards.

The problem there being, obviously, that both girls had lives. Sabrina had work where a boss, no doubt, would not be cool with someone ghosting her around wherever she went. And schools would never let a random biker in either.

And I had no idea how Sabrina would even feel about me or one of the men in her space literally all the time.

Third, they could stay here in the clubhouse when they weren’t at work or at school.

The selfish part of me wanted that.

I wanted Daphne safely settled in either the basement or one of the empty bedrooms. Then I wanted Sabrina in my bed with me.

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