“I’m sorry if we startled you, Miss Fiona. I know you’ve had one hell of a night. My name’s Guard. Cece is my wife, and these two heathens are the fruit of our loins.” I giggled as Charlie audibly gasped. Cece smacked him over the head, and muttered curses came from Bash’s post in the kitchen.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Guard,” I replied with a genuine smile. I reached out to shake his.
With a playful slap, he batted my hand away before stepping over to press a kiss to my forehead. In a lower voice, he spoke just to me.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for my daughter. I’m so sorry this happened, and you have my word that we will make that fucker pay.” My throat hurt for a different reason this time as I had to swallow down the knot in it.
It was silly, but no one had ever said that to me before and meant it. I was overwhelmed on every level. Finally, Bash came into the room. I looked up and was caught by the intensity in his eyes. With a squeeze to my shoulder, Guard left my side and pulled Cece with him.
“We’re going to throw some food together for you while you talk to Bash. Do you want anything to drink?” he asked.
I shook my head distractedly as his son sat down. His big body looked ridiculous, folded into the accent chair I kept next to the couch, his long legs extended so far out, our knees touched. I barely registered as everyone else left the room. Bash was still staring at me but had yet to say anything. He leaned forward and took my hand. I looked at our entwined fingers with confusion.
“I don’t have the words, darlin’. I hate that this happened, but I will make him pay for every single mark on your skin. Sorry to do this, but I’m going to need you to tell me everything just once more. Then you don’t have to talk about it again.” I nodded before clearing my throat.
Even though I had only been awake a short time, I was already exhausted. Using what little energy I had left, I repeated the events of the night before in concise sentences. I confirmed it was definitely Theo and that he was already injured. As I detailed the attack, including his threats against Charlie, Bash’s jaw tightened. When I finished, he cupped my face, his hand far gentler than I could have ever imagined.
“You’re so brave. You did good, pretty girl. Let’s get you fed and back into bed. You need to rest.” I blinked up at him, confounded by the whole situation.
He held my gaze. Something intense was brewing in his eyes. I let him pull me to my feet and followed along meekly as he guided me toward the kitchen. At some point, whether I realized it or not, I had surrendered to Bash. I clung to his hand, using it to anchor myself as I was engulfed in the type of chaos I had always avoided.
Bash
I was grateful we had gotten a late start on the trip. We had only been on the road for about eight hours when I had to turn around. Riding alone with far fewer pit stops, I knew I could make it back in less time. Every horrific scenario popped into my head on that ride back, but I knew that, with my mom there, Fiona was in good hands.
Any good reason I had for going on the trip suddenly seemed fucking stupid. It was my own fault that I was too far away to help, that I wasn’t even within the same city limits of the fucker who put his hands on her. I stopped once to pick up a coffee and piss, and used the break to check my phone. Seeing a text from my dad, I called him, no time to waste.
“Son,” he answered on the second ring.
“Still four hours out. Tell me what you can,” I said as I paid for the coffee, ripping the lid off to let it cool down.
“The pretty boy you guys picked up after his date with Charlie? Apparently, things took a turn for the worse once you got done with him. Lost his job and apartment, and decided to use his newfound free time to stalk Charlotte. Haven’t gotten the full version out of her friend yet, but sounds like he went after her to send a message to Charlie and the club.”
I saw red and had to stop myself from smashing my phone. It was my fault. Fiona had been hurt because of me, because of club business. An emotion I had never felt before swirled in my stomach—something akin to guiltandfear—but I snuffed it out. Channeling all my emotions, I focused on plans for swift revenge. I would make that fucker pay. He would be in the ground for thinking he could touch a single hair on Fiona’s head.
“Keys is digging up footage from nearby security cameras. Prez already sent some Brothers out to look for that shit, but we haven’t found him yet. No job or apartment to hide out in, so we have them searching for his car. He doesn’t have much family, just a grandma back in Minnesota. I’m heading over to Fiona’s place now. Your ma demanded I bring some groceries over so she can make some soup and shit. We’ll be here when you get in.”
I ground my teeth together in frustration that I was still so far away. With a grunt, I disconnected the call and drank the last of my coffee without tasting it. Back on the bike, the roads were empty in the early morning hours.
Round-trip, I had been riding almost fourteen hours so far, but rather than feeling tired, I felt electrified. All of my senses were heightened. Every fiber of my being was unsettled, like I was crawling out of my skin. The only cure would be to see Fiona, to get home to her.
By the time I was back within city limits, muscle memory guided me toward her apartment complex. Two Brothers were out front, and I nodded at them as I jogged toward the building. My dad met me outside, and we headed upstairs together.
“She’s finally asleep. Your mom had to keep her up most of the night. I imagine she’ll be out for a few hours. You wanna go home and catch some sleep, then come back?” I shook my head, my single-minded focus on getting to Fiona.
As I walked into the apartment, I had to stop myself from creating the loud noise that usually accompanied my arrival. I was a big man. I took heavy steps and wasn’t always the most aware of my strength.
Last time I was there, I had felt like a giant in the small space. Remembering that, I slowed myself down, taking quiet steps once I crossed the threshold into the apartment, before heading straight for the bedroom. It was dark in the space, but the light from the door I had left open behind me illuminated Fiona’s tiny form. Tucked under a pile of blankets, her face seemed paler than I remembered.
Her hair was spread around her like a crown of fire, only heightening the grotesque marks on her face and neck. The slender slope of her neck was exposed, covered in red and purple blotches. There were scratches on her cheek, and I could see some spots of blood on her pillowcase. Her breathing was even and steady, and I couldn’t help the instinct to touch her.
I brushed a curl out of her face, twirling the strand of hair between my fingers. It felt like silk, softer than anything I could have imagined. She made a pained expression, and I let go, stepping back. Fiona resettled herself, and I left the room, closing the door behind me as quietly as possible.
Charlie was curled up on the couch asleep, a blanket strewn over her, giving me a weird sense of reversedéjàvu from the first and only other time I had been there. I fixed the blanket,properly covering her before heading into the kitchen to join my parents. My mom looked exhausted but was up pouring me a cup of coffee before I had time to protest. We all sat around the table, quietly sipping our drinks.
“That’s a remarkable girl in there,” Dad finally said, and I looked up to see him staring at the closed door. My mom hummed her agreement before chiming in.
“She’s handling all of this exceptionally well. Her concern for Charlotte is obvious. I’m just so sorry this happened.”
