With her band-aid on, she swings her legs around and sits up again. I watch as she takes the scalpel from me and holds it over her arm, where another tracker is. Winnie goes to make a cut, then stops, her hand shaking. “I can’t do it.”
My brow furrows. “I can help. If you want me to.”
Her brown stare moves to me, and I see a flash of defiance there. “I work in an emergency room. I see people get cut into all the time. I even help do the cutting and chopping sometimes.”
A laugh escapes me until she narrows her eyes on me. “I’m sure you do, darlin’. But sometimes it's different than actually having to cut into yourself. So like I said, I can do it if you want.”
She glances at the door and back to me, probably wondering if she has any other options. She has no idea I already banned anyone else from touching her. “Okay. The second one is here.” She points to her bicep. “The other is here.” Her hand moves to her inner thigh, and her cheeks blush.
Her reaction is adorable, and I feel my lips twitch with a smile, until I realize that another man put his hands on her there. My jaw clenches, and I keep my eyes lowered, hoping she can’t see the battle of emotions raging inside me. “Why did he need so many trackers? All it screams to me is that he wasn’t confident enough to keep you safe.”
Win’s eyes narrow. “In case I was stolen by his enemies. They might find one, but not all of them.”
“Got it,” I reply, thankful when my voice doesn’t shake or waver. My plan to kill Bianchi just keeps sounding better and better.
Reeling in my anger at her captor, my hand moves over her arm softly, and I repeat the same removal process as I did on her back. This time, the tweezers pull out a long, rod-looking item, and I place it on the towel right as Hope comes back in, Lyric following this time.
“That looks like a birth control rod, not a tracker,” Lyric mutters and reaches for Winnie’s free hand.
My whole body locks up. Tension radiates along every muscle inside me, until it almost hurts to breathe. Winnie was on birth control when we dated, the pill. She had been reluctant to have an implant, shot, or a ring because she had been scared and was wary of the complications. I glance at her, but she won’t look at me.
“Just another thing I was forced to do,” Winnie says while squeezing Lyric’s hand.
Rage slams into me, clouding my vision and stealing my air. When I get my hands on Bianchi, he’ll never get the chance to hurt her again. This information only solidifies the decision I’m making to keep her safe. Carefully, I place a Band-Aid on her arm.
“Ready for the last one?” My voice is gruff, but it finally earns me her attention. Winnie’s head turns, and I catch her gaze,holding it, and silently giving her my dark promise to end the man who hurt her.
Sensing that my eyes on her means more than just waiting for an answer, she bites her lip, her cheeks pinkening as she shifts on the bed, her thighs spread. “Yup. Almost done.”
My knees bend down in front of her, bringing my face so close to her delicious pussy that my mouth waters and my heart races. This feels so familiar, and at the same time, it seems like a past life. If I thought I was nervous to touch her back or her arm, it's nothing compared to the way my blood pulses in my veins knowing I’ll be touching the inside of her thigh. Having her spread out in front of me is an intimate scene, one I’ve dreamed about for the past five years. Except, she isn’t lying here waiting for my mouth to feast on her. She’s waiting for me to take out the last piece of control that the man who took her hostage put inside her body without her consent.
Feeling more determined to protect Winnie, my hand touches the inside of her thigh, clinically, despite the warmth of her skin on mine. With my other hand, I gently cut where the last tracker is located. It takes little effort to extract it, and I swear she sighs in relief once I place it on the towel.
“Are you sure that's the last one?” I ask her, gazing up from where I’m sitting.
Winnie’s eyes meet mine, and she nods slowly. “Yes. Thank you.”
I nod at her, hesitating for a moment before getting back to my feet. She moves to close her legs and sits further back on the bed. The room seems quiet while Hope and Lyric watch us. The last thing I want is to make her more uncomfortable, but we have things to discuss.
“Hope, can you take these last few things to Inspector?” I turn to her. Hope reaches for the towel and takes it from me.
“What is he doing with the trackers?” Winnie asks, her gaze following Hope as she leaves the room.
“First, he’s going to test them to make sure they aren’t going to explode. If not, then the plan is to have someone here carrying them around. I’m not sure how in-depth the signal is that they send to Bianchi, but it will at least look like you’re here and that you’re moving around the clubhouse. If they stayed stationary, we worried it might raise a red flag,” I explain.
Winnie dips her head and makes a humming noise in agreement. “Makes sense.”
My eyes flick to Lyric, finding her already studying me, waiting for me to break the news on the next part of the plan. I straighten and roll my shoulders back. Having this conversation seems more difficult than going to war, but it needs to be done.
“Win, we need to talk about the next steps to ensure your safety.”
Her deep brown eyes lift, colliding with my own. I can read the hesitancy in her features and notice the hint of irritation underlying her calm facade. She’s already made up her mind that she won’t like what I’m going to say. “Do I actually have a choice?”
Lyric snickers, and I narrow my gaze on her. I sometimes forget, though, that she’s married to Karma, so all she does is shrug her shoulders.
Sighing, I run my hand down over my face. “You have options, Win. We can release you back to Bianchi, you can use Lyric’s connections and disappear forever, or you can stop running and let us help you.”
Her head snaps up, her eyes blazing. “You think I’m running from my problems?”
