The door opened again. “Hey, bitches,” a woman’s voice greeted before a long, shapely leg appeared. My head reared back when I saw Cara Landry strut into the room, calling, “Surpriiise.”
Our jaws dropped, and Cara laughed. “Cash got the call. He’s here with Abe, trying to smooth things over. I gotta say, though,the father of that cocky asshole Callum beat the shit out has a death wish. He’s even trying Abe’s patience.” Her gaze rested on me, and she gave me a concerned smile. “Are you okay?”
I’d only met Cara one time and honestly, she intimidated me a little, but then so did Kennedy. I liked her, though. She was louder than I was used to but still kind. I hadn’t met Cash at all, so I hoped he was skilled at diplomacy with an outlaw biker club. I was prepared to contact Patrick and call in a favor if I needed to, but it was a last resort.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Have you seen Callum and the others? Are they alright?”
She gave me a casual wave. “They’ll be fine. Cash will deal with it, that’s if the sheriff keeps his mouth shut, or else Cash may be up on a murder charge. My baby daddy’s not the most patient person in the world.”
“Oh my God,” I cried, my stomach sinking helplessly. “This is all my fault.”
“Nope!” Cara argued. “It’s the pissant’s fault. You don’t put your fingers in somebody else’s cookie jar, especially without asking first. Let this be a lesson to him. If a hot guy walked into the place bare-chested, would you walk over and grab his dick?”
“No,” I told her indignantly.
“So what gives him the right?” she challenged. “Men walk around with their tops off all the time, and we manage to control ourselves, so why can’t they do the same when we show a little flash of titty?”
“I never thought of it like that,” I replied thoughtfully.
“Because we’re conditioned not to,” Kennedy murmured. “Society always blames the women, so over the years, we’ve got good at blaming ourselves, too. Fuck that!”
“Yeah,” Cara agreed, just as the door cracked open again. “Fuck that.”
“Fuck what?” a deep voice I didn’t recognize asked.
I twisted my neck to see one of the most handsome men I’d ever laid eyes on strut inside the room.
Cara went straight to him, tipped her head back, and waited for him to kiss her mouth before asking, “What’s happening?”
His stare fell on Kennedy. “Need you to do your thing. The asswipe’s pig dad is diggin’ his heels in. We gotta sheriff with a God complex who thinks he rules the roost and wants to make an example of Callum for touchin’ his innocent boy.”
Kennedy’s eyes narrowed. “Lemme at him.”
The man’s stare came to me and softened. “I’m Cash. Wish we were meetin’ under better circumstances. Need you to stick with me and Kennedy and play along. Can you do that?”
“I’ll do anything to help Callum,” I confessed.
“Just tell the truth and let Kennedy do the rest,” he advised, jerking his head toward the corridor. “Come on.” He bent his neck to kiss Cara again before leading us out to the corridor where two KOA men were waiting. One of them—the same man who threatened to shoot Callum—caught my eye as we walked.
He moved alongside me. “You okay?” he asked.
“Bit late to ask that now,” Ned drawled with a toss of her long hair. “Maybe it would’ve been pertinent to check on her well-being when the incident happened rather than threatening her husband and locking us away.”
“We didn’t see what happened,” he responded. “We couldn’t get there in time.”
“It’s okay,” Kennedy said haughtily. “Maeve’s husband protected her when you didn’t. You know who I mean, right? You put a gun to his head and hauled him away like he was the one going around sexually abusing women.”
Cash’s throat emitted a strangled sound.
The man had the grace—and good sense—to look away before Kennedy hammered her point home even more. “In here,” he muttered, stopping at a door at the end of the corridor. TheKOA brother pulled at a chain full of keys from his belt loop and unlocked the door with one before holding it open for us to walk in. “After you,” he said with a sweeping motion of his hand.
Kennedy gave me a reassuring smile before taking my arm, and we followed Cash inside.
The first thing I noticed was a huge, round table surrounded by chairs. Pagan sat at one, talking to an older man in a Sheriff’s uniform. The cop’s eyes lifted to study me and Kennedy, and his lip curled in an unattractive sneer.
Another mature man sat on the opposite side of Pagan. His hair and neatly trimmed beard were mostly grey. When he saw me, his expression immediately took on a look of concern. Beside him sat Atlas, then Callum in the seat next to him.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” I breathed, my gaze frantically scanning my husband, looking for any marks, bruises, or signs that the KOA men had hurt him.