CHAPTER ELEVEN
SHORT
Istand staring after Bronwyn’s car, watching her taillights fade into the distance. It takes everything in me not to jump on my bike and escort her home, find her asshole of a father, and beat the fuck out of him. The only reason I let her go, well, there are two… Firstly, I’ve no right to hold her prisoner, and secondly, she admitted this wasn’t the first time she’d been hit by her father. I’ve got to accept she knows him better than me, and that he’ll indeed now be too drunk to continue his assault. Fuck, maybe he’s one of the remorseful types, who cries, promises it will never happen again, and then, hey ho, a few days later, the fists come back out.
Unfortunately, she’s not wrong about our dependence on Doc. While I’d initially been treated at the hospital, Doc had enabled me to discharge myself before the medical staff began to ask too many questions, and maybe get the cops involved. He was there to continue my treatment and my recovery at home. Pippa, well, she wouldn’t be here now if Doc hadn’t been able to work on her. She might even have died if she’d had to rely on an ambulance and the proper medical facilities. Of course, backthen, we hadn’t really cared whether she lived or died, but Doc had treated her well enough, and she’d survived. Something my brother Saint is exceptionally grateful for.
When I can see Bronwyn no longer, I turn and walk back inside, only to be greeted by Saint standing with his arms crossed just inside the door.
“What the fuck was that?” The look on his face suggests I have to defuse this fast.
Holding up my hands in surrender, I explain, my words tumbling out one after the other. “If you think I’m the one who hurt her, I suggest you have a rethink pretty fuckin’ fast.”
“I know you wouldn’t hurt her, but someone did.” Saint’s almost vibrating with anger. “My question is, why did she come to you?”
Annoyed with the accusation, I prod my finger into his chest. “Because, as I told you at the time, a month back now, I’d offered a friendly shoulder to lean on should she need one. Didn’t expect her to take me up on the offer, but here we are.”
“Yes, here we fuckin’ are. Why aren’t you heading out to deal with the fucker who actually did hurt her?”
“I’m with Saint.” Freak’s appeared and is right up in my face. “Sweet little thing like her shouldn’t have hands laid on her.”
“I’m ready to go fuck someone up if you’re too chicken to do it.”
Fuck my life, now Rattler’s here too. And the “too fuckin’ rights” coming at me from every direction show most of the other brothers are listening in.
“Alright, alright.” I’m a big guy, and my voice has a bellow to it. When I shout, I can make myself heard. “Bronwyn’s own fuckin’ father took his fists to her.”
Saint’s voice can be heard above the gasps. “What the actual fuck?”
I dip my head up and down. “Yeah, and it’s us who’re guilty. Bastard blames her for the words Bullseye had in his ear, telling him we wanted his presence and not hers.”
“What the fuck?”
Again, I nod in answer to Saint’s exclamation. “Yeah, when Bullseye told him he wanted Doc here in person, Doc blamed her for not doing her job well enough.” Not that she’d actually said it in those terms, but I read between the lines and am sure I’m right.
“That’s just not fuckin’ right,” Tempest states firmly.
“I want to mess him up.” Woody sounds incensed. “Where is she heading to now?
“To a real fuckin’ friend, I hope,” Genie puts in. “I say we go and rough him up while she’s out of the way.”
I have to tell them. “She’s gone back home. Seemed to think it would make things worse if she didn’t get back. And, she’s pretty certain he’ll have hit the bottle and will be passed out by now.”
Freak’s eyes harden, his muscles bunch, then he launches forward. “And you just let her go? Fuck, Short. I thought you were more of a man than that.” He glares at me, and I step back, not wishing to feel any punishment he might want to dish out. But I’m clearly not the topmost thing on his mind, as he rasps, “I’m going after her. Fuck knows what he’ll do to her once he’s got her back in his hands.”
Using my bulk, I plant myself firmly in the doorway, making it hard for anyone to get around me. There aren’t many here who can take me down, my size giving me the advantage in any bout. Piston is only a couple of inches lower in height, but a few pounds heavier, and isn’t here. Paint is a skinny fucker, but fast, and on occasion, he’s managed to get under my defences, but again, I’m lucky he’s not around.
Of course, if they all charge me at once… I make a point of rubbing my chest where I was stabbed, and cough a couple of times.
“Goddammit, Short.” Saint, on to my game, rolls his eyes. Waving his hands in a stand-down signal to the other brothers, he turns his attention from me to the rest of the room. “Calm down and think. We can’t make an enemy of Doc. If it weren’t for him, my woman wouldn’t be alive. And he’s saved a lot of your asses a few times. Freak, when you took the bullet in your leg, what the fuck would have happened if you’d had to have gone to the emergency room?” He pauses to give the enforcer time to acknowledge his words with a shrug of acceptance. “And you, Woody, you’d have bled out that time you were stabbed.” Again, there’s a reluctant chin raise. “I fuckin’ hate the man for how he tried to abuse Pippa, but what we think of him has to be weighed against the benefit for the club.”
“Don’t like turning a blind eye to the way he abused his daughter,” Tempest says, tugging at his beard. “Bronwyn’s a fuckin’ good nurse, and such a sweet girl. Though fuck knows how she turned out like that with him for a father.”
Mumbled agreement sounds from all around, and he’s definitely not going to get any argument from me.
“Still don’t fuckin’ like it,” Freak says. “What guarantee is there that he won’t hurt her again?”
“As I said, Bron said he’s an alcoholic. And I gave her my number. Told her to use it. Made her promise to text me when she got home to let me know she was safe. It was all I could do,” I admit. “I tried to get her to stay here, but she refused.”
