I leaned up and whispered, “It took you this long to work that out? Jeez, Aiden, and there I was thinking you were smart.”
He barked a laugh, shaking his head. “Carry on with your lip, baby, and you’ll get another spankin’.”
I waggled my eyebrows. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, boss man.”
He groaned and tipped his head back to address the heavens, muttering under his breath. “Jesus, send help. I’ve got my hands full with this one.”
“You certainly have,” I drawled, my eyebrow arching at him in challenge. “And, honey, it’s all of your own making.”
—————
I gazedout of the window at the Youngs’ farmhouse to watch Pagan, who was leaning on the porch out front, deep in conversation with Hank.
When we’d turned up about thirty minutes earlier, the atmosphere was tense to say the least. Hank’s greeting was cool, Peggy’s watchful, and Gracie’s nervous. Hank’s son had taken one look at Pagan, grabbed his jacket, and stormed out of the house.
I got it. This was a family in pain, and if anyone could understand how that felt, it was me.
Hank skewered Pagan with a glare that screamedget the fuck off my property, but I had to give Pagan his due; he pulled his shoulders back and asked if they could have a private chat so he could explain a few things.
Since then, the only time we’d seen either of them was when Hank came in to pour two cups of coffee and take them back outside. Since then, they’d been holed up on the porch, deep in conversation.
“Hank’s protective, you know,” Peggy, Gracie’s mom, said out of the blue.
I turned my head and nodded. “My da was protective too, and I’ve got three brothers who’ve gotten themselves into more than one fight because of me.” I smiled. “My mammy calls me a gobshite, and she’s right; my mouth gets me in trouble sometimes.”
Gracie, who was sitting in an armchair reading her Kindle, glanced up at me and smiled.
My heart ached for her.
Pagan was right; she was a sweet girl, and so pretty it made my back teeth ache. I couldn’t get my head around how some jacked-up bastard could dream of hurting her. Everything from her honey blonde hair to her big blue eyes screamed innocence.
Perhaps that was it. Maybe evil needed to touch goodness because it was the only way it could feel the light. That demonic man knew he’d never get to feel anything clean inside himself, so he tried to take it from Gracie.
I was a small-town girl, and I’d been protected for most of my life, even back when bad things were happening in Hambleton. I’d never been subjected to violence or brutality unless my brothers had a fist fight, so I understood how hard it must have been for such an innocent to experience such evil.
Gracie got up from the table and headed out of the kitchen. “I’m just going for a refill,” she murmured as she passed her mom with her cup in hand.
Peggy waited for her daughter to leave the room before turning to me, the anguish on her face heart-wrenching. “She’s not been herself since that night. I don’t know what to do for her...” Her voice trailed off like she was suddenly lost for words.
“You don’t have to explain,” I assured her. “We’re here because Pagan’s furious about what happened, and we wanted to give you our support.” I glanced out the window again and sighed. “Pagan dealt with the deputy in his way, but I want you to know that if Gracie wants to press charges, I’m good friends with the mayor of Hambleton. I can ask him to help us find somebody to take this further. I’m also friends with a lawyer who helps women like Gracie pro bono. Kennedy Stone would eat that asshole and his crooked father for breakfast.”
“You’d do that for me?” a voice asked from the door.
I turned my head to see Gracie standing in the threshold. “Of course I would. That man isn’t a threat to you anymore, sweetheart. I promise. Now tell me, do you want to speak to the police?”
Peggy gazed at her daughter, her knuckles white as they gripped her coffee cup. “We already told our girl that we’ll take her to another town if she wants to make a complaint, but she wouldn’t because she was afraid of what the bikers would do?—”
Peggy was cut off by the front door opening as Hank and Pagan walked inside in silence.
“I think we need more coffee,” Peggy said decisively. “I made a fresh pot. It’ll warm you both up.” She got up and bustled into the kitchen.
I glanced at Gracie to see her looking at Pagan nervously, which was understandable.
The rumors about the Kings of Anarchy’s arrival in town were no doubt exaggerated. They’d moved into the place, opened a damned strip club, and probably ruffled some feathers. Pagan wanting to stay copacetic with the residents was smart, and I could see why Huntley Junior using the Kings’ name as a threat to hurt a young girl had made him so damned pissed.
“Everythin’ okay?” he asked, softening his gaze as it slid between us.
“Of course,” I assured him. “I was just telling Gracie that I’d speak to Abe Decker if she wanted to report what happened to her.”
