Page 38 of Kick

She stops walking and stares at me, her face slackened in what looks like a horrified expression.

“Relax, Little Spitfire, you’re safe with me.” I shake my head. I need to quit saying shit like that because the truth is she’s not safe with me. Not really.

“What if they find us here? What if they both come and you and the others can’t fight them off?”

“Hey, you’re gonna be fine. I’m not leaving your side, however long it takes. I’ll be here. We’re gonna have men patrolling; they’re not gonna get within a hundred metres of you without us knowing about it.”

“I should have gone to the police.”

“And done what, darlin’?” I ask, staring her down. “This guyisthe fuckin’ police. You go to them and you’ll be dead before you clear the parking lot. Come on,” I say, and tentatively hold out my hand. She stares at it a beat. I let mine fall away, shoving it inside the pocket of my jeans.

I lead her to the house, unlocking it with the key Prez had given me back at the clubhouse in case we got separated. I punch in the security code to turn off the house alarm but switched it to perimeter. He had this state-of-the-art system installed after a rival club broke in and trashed the place ’cause they couldn’t find Prez. They also made off with a shit-tonne of drugs. We more than made up for the money lost by taking their bikes and selling them on the black market.

I walk from the lounge to the kitchen and shove my overnight bag on the counter. There’s a big-arsed box on top of the island bench with a pink sticky note attached. I pick it up.

Here are the clothes you wanted. This is gonna cost you, Jett, and if I see any of my designer pieces on those fucking stupid club whores parading around your clubhouse, I’m filing for divorce.

Also, I took your other credit card.

M.

XOX

Jesus Christ. No wonder Prez has been looking for affection elsewhere. Mia is a fuckin’ head case. Indie reads the note over my shoulder before I can crumple it up.

“Wow, she sounds delightful. I’m suddenly really glad we’re going to be alone,” she says, and then her face heats and she moves away from me.

“They should fit you. If they don’t then we’re kinda fucked, ’cause I only brought the one pair of jeans with me and a couple T-shirts.”

I tell her to stay put and decide to sweep the house. Kinda pointless really, seeing as if anyone had broken in since Mia left, we’d be deafened by the alarm, but it might help Indie feel better, and I sure as shit would feel better knowing some arsehole wasn’t gonna jump me and blow a hole through my head.

The house is huge, and the whole sweep takes me a good ten minutes. By the time I come back Indie’s changed into a pair of dark-blue jeans that hug her arse so tightly that all the blood rushes right to my cock. I lean against the breakfast bar, trying to cover my hard-on from view. Normally I’d revel in that shit, but this situation is anything but normal. If I wasn’t concerned for her safety, I might consider a trip to the bathroom to beat one out. I doubt that would make her feel any more comfortable than me whipping it out right here. Instead, I lean into the cold marble and will my dick to settle the fuck down. It’s gonna be a long couple of days.

I pull a cold beer from the fridge and turn to Indie as the other bikes finally pull in the drive. “You want one?”

She shakes her head, and glances out through the large glass front door at my brothers. “I thought you said it was just going to be the five of us?”

“It is. The others will head back to the clubhouse later.”

She nods and collects the box of clothing Mia left for her. “I’m just going to take these upstairs.”

“Okay.” I turn back to the fridge and take out several more beers for my brothers. “Well, when you’re done, come back down and we’ll talk about the—” I turn to face her and shake my head, realising that she’s already gone, and I’m left standin’ here talkin’ to my fuckin’ self.

Yeah. It’s gonna be a very long couple of days.

Ienter the room and slam my fist against the door the second I see her huddling into the wall. She’s as naked as she was in the club lounge, only now—two days later—she’s covered head to toe in bruises. I take several hulking steps forward and grab her shoulders, lifting her up and shaking her.

“You stupid bitch,” I hiss. “I told you to play fuckin’ nice, didn’t I? I told you I would get you out of this.”

Tank’s arm shoots out, squeezing my shoulder until I release her. “Easy, brother, keep your shit together or I’m gonna throw you outta here myself.”

“I saw a chance; I took it,” she mutters. “It didn’t pay off the way I thought it would.”

“No, it fuckin’ didn’t, did it?”

Tears pool in her eyes. “Why would you try to help me?”

“’Cause you can’t seem to fuckin’ help yourself,” I snap back, and then let out a deep exhalation. “We need to get you out of here.”

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