He helps ease me up as Havoc and Kruger come into view and kneel beside me.
“Tell us what happened, Citi,” Havoc demands, his order cutting through my fear as the words spill from my lips—my waking up alone to frantically searching for Star.
Ambros grips my hand in a bid to offer me comfort, but he’s so tense I lean into him to provide him with some instead.
“Everyone, spread out and look for Star,” Havoc orders loudly. “I want the whole house searched in case she’s hiding or fell asleep somewhere. Hell, maybe she got stuck or wandered off and got lost. Either way, I want you to work your way from the house outward and look everywhere a kid might go. Con? Check with the neighbors, see if they saw or heard anything. Kruger, call in ELM and check the security footage. Was the alarm set?”
I open my mouth to answer, but Ambros beats me to it. “I set it when I left, and it was on when I just kicked the door in.”
“That’s good. That means she has to be here somewhere.” Havoc looks at me, his eyes staring into mine as he makes his vow. “We’ll find her.”
I nod frantically. I try to get up, but Ambros holds me in place. “Looks like you hit your head on something. You’re bleeding pretty good. I’m going to need to clean you up first and see if you need to get checked out.”
“I’m fine. I’m not important.”
“Oh yes, you fucking are. You’re important to me.”
“I need to help find Star.”
“And what good will you be to her if you end up passing out?”
I grit my teeth, but Havoc reaches over and squeezes my shoulder. “Just let him clean you up. It won’t take long, and the guys are already looking for her. If she sees you like this, she’ll freak,” he tells me quietly, which is when I look down and realize I have blood on my Henley. I reach up and touch the spot on my head, my fingers coming away red.
“I thought the headache was a hangover,” I admit, feeling stupid.
“It’s probably a little of both. Your eyes look good, though, and you’re not slurring. How’s your vision?” Ambros prompts.
“It’s fine. It was a little hazy when I woke up, but it’s okay now.”
“Any nausea?”
I shake my head, happy to find that it doesn’t hurt too much.
“Okay, that’s all good. Let’s clean up the blood and go from there, but I don’t think you have a concussion. I’ve had enough to recognize the signs. If you start to feel worse, though, or if something genuinely feels off, tell me.”
“Okay.” I agree quietly, needing him to hurry this along so I can look for Star.
He helps me up and takes my hand, leading me into the kitchen. He nudges me into one of the chairs before grabbing a bowl and filling it with water, along with a clean dish towel from the drawer. He places the bowl and towel on the table and spins the chair in front of him so he can straddle it.
“Tell me again what happened,” he says softly while he dips the towel in the water before bringing it up to my face and starts wiping the blood away. I repeat what I said before, this time adding the part about the first time I woke up and asked him to stay with me.
“You’re sure you checked on her and she was in her bed?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you, angel, and sure as shit not about something like that.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I’m just scared out of my fucking mind. She’s just a little girl, Ambros, that’s what I want to say. But the thing is, I know what can happen to little girls. I know.” I hit my chest to emphasize my words.
“Shh…” He tugs me forward and wraps his arms around me as I fight back tears. Crying won’t help anyone right now.
I pull back, and we sit in silence as Ambros finishes cleaning me up. Once he’s done, I hop off the chair and head to the door, slipping on the pair of sneakers from the shoe rack.
“Maybe you should wait here, Citi. What if she wanders back and gets scared she can’t find you?” Havoc asks gently from behind me.
I whirl around and shove my finger in his face. “Do not try to manipulate me when it comes to my daughter. Every time I come to the MC, I’m in a world where anything that makes me uncomfortable or raises questions is club business. And that’s just the way it goes. Well, in here, Star is my business. Respect that or fuck off because the second you get in my way or try to stop me from getting to her, I’ll kill you myself.” My chest is heaving, and everyone left behind freezes at my roared statement. I just effectively threatened their president, and even I know that’s some kind of punishable offense. Now ask me if I care.
“That was not what I was doing,” he replies, his voice tight.
“Yeah, it was. I get you—you’re just trying to help. But this isn’t it.”
