I parked near the main entrance, killed the engine, and turned to Cora. Her face had gone even paler, if that were possible, eyes wide as she took in the heightened security.“They’re protecting you,” I said, hoping to reassure her. “Not holding you prisoner.”
A hint of disbelief crossed her features, but she nodded again. I climbed out, circled to her side, and opened her door. The rain had slowed to a steady drizzle, cold against my skin as I held out my hand to help her down. Her fingers were like ice against my skin, trembling slightly. We walked together toward the entrance, her steps growing more hesitant as we approached the door and her shaking increased. It was easy to see the situation terrified her. For that alone I’d beat Reeves to a bloody fucking pulp.
Inside, the common room was quiet, most of the brothers giving us space. Knight and Knuckles waited near the fireplace, their expressions guarded but not hostile. Knight stood with his arms crossed, his tattooed face unreadable to most, but I caught the concern in the set of his shoulders. I handed him the other two bugs. Knight shoved them into a small box before putting them inside his office only a few feet from us.
Beside him, Knuckles looked deceptively relaxed in an armchair, one ankle resting on the opposite knee. On the low table between them lay several small objects. The listening device, now dismantled into its component parts spread out where Knight had obviously been studying them, likely discussing what he found with Knuckles.
Cora froze just inside the doorway, her hand tightening painfully around mine. I gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, urging her forward. Knuckles rose as we approached, his movement slow and deliberate. I felt Cora tense beside me, bracing for confrontation. But when Knuckles spoke, his voice held none of the harshness she clearly expected.
“Got Hannah to make some coffee,” he said, gesturing to a carafe on the table. “Figured you could use something to warm you up.”
Confusion flickered across Cora’s face, followed by wary suspicion. She glanced up at me, searching for guidance. I nodded slightly, encouraging her to take a seat on one side of the couch. I sat next to her, draping an arm casually over the back of the couch. I brushed her shoulder reassuringly in silent encouragement.
“We’ve been at this game a long time, honey,” Knuckles continued once Cora was settled. “Cops trying to get to us through people outside our compound ain’t exactly a new play. You likely got caught in the middle because you kept picking up grocery orders for us and the shelter.”
“I’m sorry,” Cora whispered, her voice cracking. “I didn’t want to --”
Knuckles waved a dismissive hand. “Ain’t your fault Reeves is a vindictive bastard with a badge.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “The man threatened to arrest you with fabricated evidence. That ain’t coercion. That’s fucking terrorism.”
Knight stepped closer, gesturing to the dismantled device on the table. “Found the one under the fridge in the kitchen yesterday after you left,” he explained, his voice softer than usual. “Swept the compound twice since then. We’re clean.”
“They’re police-grade,” Knuckles added. “Illegal as fuck for Reeves to place without a warrant, which may be why Reeves needed someone else to plant them.” His eyes, normally hard as flint, held an unexpected gentleness as he looked at Cora. “You ain’t the first person he’s backed into a corner, sweetheart. And you won’t be the last.”
Cora stared at the dismantled device, then at Knuckles, then at me. The confusion in her eyes slowly gave way to disbelief, then to something like hope.
“You’re not… you don’t blame me?” Her voice was small, vulnerable in a way that made my chest tighten. Two tearstracked from her lovely eyes. They felt like daggers straight to my heart.
“For what?” Knuckles shrugged. “Doing what you had to when a cop with a grudge threatened to destroy your life? Hell, most people would’ve done worse, especially to a bunch of ex-cons. No. I wish you knew you could have gone to Hannah, Pippa, or any of the other women, or Rancor. But I understand you don’t really know any of us. Not knowing if anyone here would give a good Goddamn about you if he arrested you, you had to protect yourself.”
It was Knight who broke the final thread of her composure. He moved closer, crouched down to her eye level. “The fact that you’re here right now,” he said quietly, “telling us the truth even though you’re terrified? That says everything we need to know about you.” He gave her a kind smile, which, with his tattooed eyes and face, was slightly creepy.
The dam broke. Cora’s face crumpled, her shoulders hunching as she folded in on herself. At first, her crying was silent -- just tremors shaking her small frame, tears streaming down her face. Then a ragged sob tore from her throat, followed by another, until she was gasping for breath between them.
I dropped my arm from the couch to her shoulders and, without thinking about it, pulled her onto my lap and urged her to bury her face against my chest. She came willingly, collapsing into me, as the weight of her fear and guilt poured out. I cradled the back of her head, threading my fingers through her hair as I held her, letting her fall apart against me.
“It’s okay,” I murmured. Comfort wasn’t something I’d offered anyone in a very long time. “You’re safe now.” Over her head, I met Knuckles’ gaze. He nodded at me, a confirmation he had my back because he knew I’d kill to protect this small woman, even if it meant going back to prison. Knight stood, moving behind Knuckles, his expression solemn. Reeves hadmade this personal long ago. Now he’d crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed.
As Cora’s sobs quieted to shuddering breaths, I shifted, slipping one arm beneath her knees. She made a small, startled sound as I lifted her, but didn’t resist, her arms looping around my neck, face still pressed to my shoulder.
“Taking her to my place,” I said simply. Knuckles nodded, the gesture conveying both permission and understanding. She needed to know she was safe with me and that I’d be her protector. I knew Knuckles and Knight wanted information from her, but I didn’t think now was the time. They had the bugs. They knew Cora wasn’t the bad guy. Interrogating her, though necessary, could wait.
I carried her from the common room, her weight slight in my arms. The compound was relatively silent given the absence of people in the common room. With everyone on lockdown, the women and children were in the centermost warehouses in our complex. They were well-protected until Knuckles got this SNAFU sorted out. The brothers who were present minded their own business. It was our way. All of them would have our backs when push came to shove.
Cora’s fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt as I carried her through the main warehouse and out the back into the courtyard. The distance was farther than I’d normally want to walk, but the time would give Cora time to settle herself.
I carried her to my apartment, only setting her down to open the door. I kept my arm around her protectively, not ready to let her out of my reach, especially when she was obviously feeling fragile. Her tears had soaked through my shirt. Each one felt like a painful blow. I’d keep her safe. Whatever it took.
Chapter Ten
Rancor
I shouldered open the door to my apartment, carrying Cora across the threshold like something precious and breakable. The space felt different with her in it, smaller and somehow warmer. My living quarters were sparse by most standards. A leather couch sat against one wall, with a large screen TV on the opposite side of the room where the kitchen opened up. A workbench covered in motorcycle parts along the far wall represented the only clutter and I even had that area organized for what I worked on at the time. Everything in its place. I rarely brought anyone here, and never women. This was my sanctuary, the one place I didn’t have to wear my mask. Now she saw all of it, all of me, and I found I didn’t mind.
Her gaze moved around the room, taking in details I’d stopped noticing long ago. I set her down carefully and she walked gingerly across the room to stand in front of the window that looked out over Sarah’s garden, now partially obscured by rain.
“This is you,” she whispered, her voice still rough from crying. “I can see you in this room.” She nodded to the garden outside. “I can see you there.”
I nodded. She seemed so small, vulnerable in a way that stirred something protective in me. Her face was flushed, eyes swollen from tears, hair mussed where my fingers had threaded through it. She’d never looked more beautiful to me.
