“Waverley,” Warren reached out, pulling me into him, his eyes questioning me, taking in my appearance. “What the fuck?” his eyes darted to Hudson, then back to me, his brows raised. “What happened to you?”
“Long story.”
Warren shook his head. “Well, you better get your story telling hat on because King will not let this go. Come on. Wait, where are your shoes?” War looked down at my feet.
“Really?” Hudson asked. “We have more important things to worry about than her shoes. Let’s get this done,” he snapped and turned, muttering. “I’ve got someone I need to kill.”
“Sounds like a usual patching in party,” someone shouted behind us, and laughter rang out.
Everything went back to normal, at least to those around us. Warren grabbed my hand, reluctantly I allowed him to pull me along.
Hudson looked all around us. “You see Andrew Reinhart?”
Warren looked confounded. “Why the fuck is he such a big deal?”
“Is he still here?”
Warren shrugged. “I haven’t seen him in a while. I don’t know. Someone give me something before we get in there and face King,” Warren said, heading for the clubhouse door.
King had already gone through to his office. As we passed, Warren grabbed hold of a guy.
“You know Andrew Reinhart?”
“The construction guy?”
“Yeah. Find him and bring him into the clubhouse when you do.”
I ducked my head. I didn’t know what to say. I still hadn’t processed it all myself yet. Finding out Hudson was there that night hadn’t sunk in.
Despite his words, I had a different view of that night. I had to own some of the blame for what happened to me. I’d spent the last five years dealing with it. Hudson had only just found out. I couldn’t fault him for his reaction, especially knowing he had seen it.
Inside the clubhouse, Warren asked us again what was going on.
“Andrew Reinhart raped your sister five years ago. And I’m going to kill him.”
On that bombshell, Hudson walked towards King’s office.
Thanks, asshole.
Warren pulled up short and whirled around on me. “What?” he shouted.
I put my hand over his mouth and glared after Hudson. “I will explain, but not here,” I said in a harsh whisper, looking around at the people in the room. The last thing I needed was this spread around the compound. It was bad enough I’d had to explain it once already. “He’s exaggerating.”
“I’m fucking not,” Hudson called out.
“Jesus Christ,” I groaned. I walked to the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey before following Hudson down the hallway.
Warren was right on my ass, asking questions all the way. I opened the bottle and took a swig, trying to chase away the taste of vomit in my throat.
He grabbed my arm before we got to King’s office, turning me so he could look me in the eye. Right now, he wasn’t the VP. He was my brother, and I could see the hurt in his questioning gaze.
“Is what he just said true?”
“To a degree,” I hedged.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” His voice was low, menacing, and there was a look in his eyes that rivalled Hudson’s. “I will take that motherfucker down if he hurt you.”
“Can we please just go in there to talk about this?” I asked, and he watched me take another swig of the whiskey. He looked like he was about to argue, but I shoved the bottle at him. “Here, drink this. You’re going to need it.”
