“What’s up, Ryan?” Rory asked, his unease unmistakable. He was hiding a lot from CJ, too.
“Come to the den,” Ryan started to buy time.
“I can’t stay,” CJ said. “I’m going back to the club. Dad and Uncle Mort are going on the hunt. Where Daddy Grevenberg is, I think Nardo will be and I’m snatching that motherfucker. Say whatever so I can leave.”
Whatever hesitation and uncertainty CJ suffered from recently was gone. Or, maybe, it had cracked under the weight of his anger and outrage.
“Ryan?” CJ pressed.
Devon thumped his shoulder. When had he reached Ryan’s side?
“Uhh…” Ryan’s mouth dried and dizziness assailed him. Fear made him lightheaded.
CJ narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck did you do this fucking time?”
“Nothing!” Ryan cried. “I didn’t do anything.”
Rory laughed, a nervous, high-pitched sound that resembled a squeal.
Snapping his brows together, CJ glanced at Rory and then again at Ryan.
Grant frowned. “I want to get home to check on Roxy and the girls.”
Rory nodded frantically. “You’re right. I need to get there to check on my mom and my little sister since we don’t know where Dad is.”
“I don’t have time for games, Ryan,” CJ said. “I’m giving you one last chance to tell me what the fuck your SOS was about.”
Before he bitched out, Ryan pulled his cell phone from his trouser pocket and found the photos of Harley he’d created from Willard’s video. He drew in a deep breath and stepped closer to CJ, wary. “I planned to show you this today or tomorrow before everything that happened earlier.”
“What?” CJ demanded.
A surge of fear pulsed through him. Somehow, he forced his next words out. “I…” In the current climate, if he lied and said he walked in on Harley then took photos without her permission, CJ would definitely beat Ryan’s ass.
He could always say she’d allowed him in the bathroom with her. That careless announcement in front of the guys would make her seema way. The idea made Ryan think of locker room talk, where girls were little more than notches on a belt. Harley wasn’t that.Andif CJ questioned Harley, Ryan would be caught in a lie.
“Look, fuckhead, I don’t have fucking time for whatever the fuck you’re playing at,” CJ said, starting to turn.
“No, wait.” Heaving in a breath, Ryan handed CJ his phone.
Devon, Rory, and Grant crowded around to see, which Ryan should’ve expected given his weird behavior. Unfortunately, he hadn’t. Now, they were all looking at Harley unclothed, bruised, and beaten.
CJ scrolled, his face darkening. Any minute, foam would drip from his mouth. But no. That might’ve been better than the furious green gaze he pinned on Ryan and growled, low in his throat, just like Uncle Christopher before he fucked up motherfuckers.
“I can explain,” Ryan blurted. “The bathroom door was unlocked and I walked in on her. I saw all those bruises so I took pictures to show you.” He was so fucking proud that he neither stuttered, trembled, or pissed himself. “She’d just come from a date with Grevenberg, so I’m pretty sure he did that to her.”
Devon bowed his head. Grant and Rory looked at CJ, while Ryan prayed CJ accepted the story at face value.
He looked at the photos again and pressed the screen. When Ryan heard the ding of incoming messages, he knew CJ was sending Harley’s pictures to himself. Silent, he handed Devon Ryan’s phone, then broke away from Grant and Rory.
CJ punched Ryan’s jaw and knocked him to the ground, momentarily stunning him, then stalked away.
The slamming door shook the rafters and echoed in the silence.
Following Mort into Roxy’s house, Kendall found Knox sitting on the edge of the sofa, his elbows on his knees. The moment he saw her, he got to his feet.
“Mattie’s upstairs, sweetheart,” he said gently.
She started trembling again. Mortician rubbed her back, but even his comfort didn’t help.
