Page 21 of Damascus & The Wildfire
“Here,” I said, pulling her hands away from the clasp. “Let me.”
She took a deep breath, steadying herself. I clipped it, and she swung a leg over behind me. The engine roared to life beneath us, and the vibration thrummed through my body and into hers. I took her hands and wrapped her arms around my waist, holding them there for a moment.
“Hang on,” I yelled over the roar of the engine.
She pressed against my back, her grip tightening as we pulled away from the curb and merged onto the highway.
After a short drive, I stopped at a diner outside of town. “I think you need a milkshake and a piece of cake,” I said as Ihelped Kenna off my bike.
She managed a small smile. “Can they add vodka to the milkshake?”
I laughed. “Probably not here, but we’ll get you a drink at the clubhouse.”
Kenna settled into the booth and scanned the menu. I ordered before she decided on a strawberry milkshake and a slice of chocolate cake. As soon as the waitress left, I excused myself and stepped outside to call Merrick.
“How is she?” he asked without even uttering a hello.
I scrubbed a hand over my short beard. “Shaken and bruised. She downplayed it. She was punched and thrown to the ground. Scratched the fuck out of her hands, and I’m betting she’s got more bruises I can’t see.”
“Fuck,” Merrick growled. “What’s PD doing about it?”
“Rodriguez was there. Not his case, but he thinks it was a new gang. Says it’ll get buried. See if Linc can get hold of the police report and find any camera footage from the local businesses.”
“I’ll get him on it.”
“We’ll stop and get her keys on the way to the clubhouse after we leave the diner. I didn’t want her to drive. We’ll get a prospect to fetch her car tonight.”
“Bayou is here. We can have him grab it.”
I slipped my phone back into the pocket of my cut and walked back into the diner just as the waitress brought our milkshakes to the table. Kenna offered me a bite of her cake. I shook my head.
“Thank you for dropping everything to come get me,” she said in a soft voice. She paused as she considered her next words. “What did you mean when you told the detective that the Mavericks would handle it?”
I sucked down my chocolate milkshake. The cold smoothness soothed my hoarse throat. “You should be able to walk down the street during the middle of the day without being afraid.”
She chewed on her straw for a moment. “Nice evasion. I probably don’t want to know, do I?”
I smirked. “Probably not.”
“And you wouldn’t tell me, would you?”
I chuckled. “Definitely not.”
“Because it falls under ‘club business,’ I assume?”
I huffed a laugh at her air quotes. “Sassy. Almost back to your normal self.” She rolled her eyes, and I watched as she took another bite of cake. I waved down the waitress as I took in the darkening bruise below her jaw. “Can we get a bag of ice?”
The waitress shot me a glare. Her eyes flicked between Kenna’s bruises and the split skin on my knuckles, as if I were the one who’d hurt her. She left without a word, returning with a quart-sized bag of crushed ice wrapped in a paper towel.
“You good, hon? Need me to call anyone?”
I appreciated the waitress’s concern, though I hated the assumption that was clear in her eyes.
“Don’t worry,” Kenna said, reading into her look. “He’s not the one who did this.”
The waitress nodded, skeptical relief flickering across her face before she bustled off to another table.
We finished our shakes in comfortable silence. The hum of the diner and the clink of silverware filled the space between us. Afterward, we stopped by Kenna’s house for her spare keys. I followed her in, peering into the mostly unpacked boxes sitting in the corner as she changed her clothes. I wondered if she’d ever get the chance to settle, or if the chaos of this start to her life in Texas would chase her away.
