Page 110 of Devil's Due

“So who are you then?” he finally asks.

“Who they are doesn’t matter. Who the Soulz consort with is no concern of yours. What matters is we’ve both got something we want. I want the women,allof them. You want your lives. Seems like a good bargain to me.”

“Take it, Shorty,” the man who’d spoken before insists, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “I don’t want to die.”

Shorty looks shifty. “How about I kill this one, you can have the others?”

“A blind bitch? I can think of a special market for her. Nah. I want her.”

Stinger sounds so convincing, he’s almost got me believing he’d betray us.He wouldn’t take Stevie, would he?Nah, course he wouldn’t, he’s bluffing.

But Stevie doesn’t know that. The whimper from her lips makes me wish she could see me, when she gasps out, “Beef…”

“Yeah, what’s with that? She knows him. I don’t believe you.” Shorty looks like he’s solved a puzzle and is patting himself on the head. “You won’t be using her…”

“Beef…” she implores again, her blind eyes searching the room as if to find me.

“Sweetheart,” I drawl. “Stinger wants you? He can have you. I don’t do relationships, you know that. This is just business. You hear me? Had you once, that was enough.”

I’m hoping she of all people will understand the undercurrent beneath my words.

Half-turning I’m in time to see Stinger wink. Then he stalks toward me. I’m not in time to dodge the fist that comes toward my jaw.

“I told you not to touch the fuckin’ merchandise,” he snarls as all hell lets loose.

The Jokers’ attention had been on our altercation. They’ve completely missed Thunder creeping up behind Shorty. Three gunshots ring out. Three bodies fall.

Stevie, wrenching from the grasp of the man dying staggers forward and into my arms. I hold her tightly. “You’re safe. I didn’t mean any of it. You’re mine, Stevie. No one else will touch you. You’re fuckin’ mine and I’m never letting you go again. You hear me? No fuckin’ marshals, no one else protects you. Only me. You hear me? I didn’t mean what I said. I was just—”

“I know Beef, I know.” She sobs against my chest. “I know. Please, the smell. I need to get out of here. Take me out Beef, please, take me outside.”

I sweep her up into my arms and carry her. Soulz and Devils part ways to let me through. I know the smells of cordite and blood will be horrendous to her over-developed senses. Outside the house I put her down but keep hold of her. She’s crying, weeping and uncontrollably shaking. Then, not surprisingly, she gags, and when I turn her away from me, she throws up.

Taking off my bandana, I pass it to her so she can wipe her mouth. When she turns to me, her face is white.

My teeth clench.What the fuck have they done to her?I want to know it all, everything, but I’ve seen enough sufferers of PTSD in my time to know if she went through even a fraction of the things running through my head, she needs time and space to talk it through in her own time, not be subjected to a barrage of questions fired at her right now. I have to tamp down my impatience.

“Stinger suggests we get her out of here.” Thunder is by my side, pointing to where we left the SUVs. Then, more quietly into my ear, he adds, “Soulz are dealing with the clean-up. Devils are all returning to partake of their hospitality until we can get transport arranged.”

“Beef. There’re more women…”

“Sweetheart, we know. They’ll be taken care of.” Whatever she’s been through, Stevie’s thinking of others rather than herself. Showing that backbone again I so much admire.

“Stinger’s got a doctor on call if she needs one.”

Stevie hears that too and shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

She might think she is, but her complexion, her trembling, suggests to me she’s not. No woman would be. Right now, I don’t know whether she needs to receive treatment or not, or, if she does, what for.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Stevie doesn’t say a word on the drive back through LA. I take comfort that she’s holding onto me as though I’m a lifeline. I could have found her abused, not wanting to accept the touch from any man, but whatever happened to her since she was stolen from the marshal, doesn’t seem to have affected how she’ll accept support from me.

When we arrive at the clubhouse Thunder steps up, telling me to wait outside while he sees if there’s somewhere I can take her. It’s a good idea. From the noises coming out it’s crammed inside. There’ll be drinking, smoking, fucking, and God knows what else which might set her back.

Within moments he’s back. “There’s a room you can use. Stinger called ahead and prospects have just cleared it.”

I thank him. He leads the way and soon Stevie and I are alone. The room is a typical one. A bed, dresser, and not much else. I’ve carried her in, now I put her down next to the bed, taking her hand and placing it on the covers so she knows what it is and can sit if she wants. The thought runs through my head that being alone with a man and a bed might not be what she needs just now.

---