Page 48 of Kick

“Hey,” I say, ignoring the fact that my brothers are all watching this exchange. I sit down on the couch beside her and offer my hand. She glares at me, but places hers in mine. I wrap my fingers around her hand, squeezing hard so she’ll feel it. “You have me. We’re gonna find these fuckers, and we’re gonna end them.”

“You’re sure that was him?” Prez asks. “We go in there shooting up coppers we’re all as good as dead. We gotta be certain that’s the right guy, and we gotta be smart.”

“That was him. I’d know that voice, that face, anywhere.”

“Alright, boys, let’s go shoot another motherfuckin’ rapist.”

“I’m coming with you,” I say, which of course prompts Indie to agree.

“I wanna be the one to take him down,” she says.

“No fuckin’ way. You two are gonna stay here out of damn sight.”

“He did this to me.” She shoots up off the couch. “I appreciate your help, and everything you’ve done for me so far, but I should be the one to kill him.”

Prez laughs in her face. “Oh darlin’, have you ever put a gun to a man’s head before? It’s not like throwing a couple of punches. That’s the kinda shit you can’t erase.”

“I held a gun to Kick’s head.”

“And you’re still fuckin’ standin’?” Prez looks at me with his brows raised and a smug-as-fuck expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you’re stayin’ here. You and your new pussy-whipped boyfriend, get to play hide the fuckin’ salami while we risked our arses with this shit.” Prez turns to the boys and says, “One Eye, Grim and Killer, you’re all riding with me. We’ll swing by the club and pick up Trigger and Diesel. Country and Squeals, you’ll stay here and guard the perimeter, though you probably won’t be needed.

“I’ll stay.” One Eye says. “Can’t have a geriatric and a fuckin’ blind man on patrol, Prez.”

“Yeah fine, whatever. It’s only gonna take one of us to get this motherfucker alone and put a bullet in his skull.”

“You can’t keep me here,” Indie shouts. She steps up into Prez’s personal space. “I should be the one to do it.”

He dismisses her, looking straight over her head at me. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, control your mouthy little bitch, Kick. Before she says some shit she can’t take back.”

“He’ll be taken care of.” I grab her shoulder, attempting to turn her so she can see the pleading in my eyes for her to let this go. “Little faith, Spitfire.”

She yanks her arm out of my grip. “Don’t touch me.” She stares accusingly at me. “You said you’d help me find them. You didn’t say you’d take the right away from me to drive the knife in his gut myself.”

“There’s more at stake here than just your revenge,” I snap back.

“Kick, deal with this fuckin’ shit,” Prez says, giving us his back. “We got ourselves a rapist to kill.”

“No!” Indie says and lunges at Prez, her fists up and ready for action, the way I taught her. I scoop her up and throw her over my shoulder, stalking away as she kicks and screams blue bloody murder. As I struggle with her up the stairs, I hear the laughter from my brothers below.Fuckin’ bitch. Now I’m never gonna live that shit down. I move along the corridor all the way to her room, where I shove open the door and stalk inside, throwing her down on the bed.

“Calm the fuck down!” I roar.

“Fuck you!” she spits back, scrambling to her knees on the soft comforter. “You fucking promised and you lied.”

“I didn’t lie,” I shout. “I meant it when I promised you and I would go get him together. Prez promised me that. But things fuckin’ change, bitch. You can’t go around attacking the fuckin’ president of a damn motorcycle club. Shit like that is gonna get you killed. And likely me too, ’cause I’m fuckin’ responsible for ya.”

“You are not responsible for me. You are nothing to me,” she shouts, and fuck me if it doesn’t hurt.

It’s not like I don’t understand why she’s so fucking distraught over this decision. When it comes to revenge, karma or someone else doing the job for you is just as bad as never getting your revenge at all. I felt it when it came to Lauren. I’d have likely died if Ethan hadn’t lost his shit and started shooting motherfuckin’ Angels in that farm house. There were eight of them to one of me, but that didn’t matter. I wanted to put a bullet through the skull of my oldest friend because he took the right away from me to kill Lauren’s murderers. They were all dead. At the end of the day it’s the same result, but you feel that loss as keenly as a fucking noose around your neck.

Indie launches herself at me and I catch her up, stumbling back a few paces into the door. I hold her fists at bay to keep her from giving me another black eye.

“Stop fuckin’ hittin’ me, woman. I didn’t do this. It’s beyond my control. If I could have, I’d have strapped that bastard into a chair and let you exact whatever punishment you wanted, but it’s no longer up to me. The lives of all of my brothers are at stake here if we don’t handle this carefully.”

All at once she sags against me and lets out a gut-wrenching sob. I walk us over to the bed and sit down. She curls her shins back against the mattress, so she’s straddling my waist and then I lay down, taking her with me.

Is it the smartest move I can make? Fuck no. But I do it ’cause I don’t have a fucking clue what else to do. I don’t relish her tears the way I did Ivy’s. I feel them. And I fuckin’ hate that. I hate her for that, for making me feel.

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