Enough(21)

“But you take such good care of your losers, they won’t let you go.” Her dry laugh kind of hurt my feelings. “Honey, you remind me of my mama, bless her soul. Me, I’ll never be that kind of girl.” Her words had a hard edge to them.

“But it doesn’t sound like Dare’s the care-for-me type?” I threw it out there, desperately wanting her to agree.

“True enough, you should be safe—just hot sex and adios.” She laughed. “I love hot sex and adios.”

We laughed and talked and before long it was time to head back to work. When I got there, Dare was gone for the day, and Rock told me the trip to Blue’s was off. We ended the day early when the last customer left.

* * *

Friday was rainy, and I hated rain. Two clients canceled, so we had no one scheduled the rest of the night. Four long hours with Mr. Grouchy. Zayn had been distracted and short all day, and no one else showed up. He came up at five said Dare wanted us to close and hurried out the door. I decided something was brewing at the club, why else would Rock cancel his appointments or Zayn be so short? He’d seemed relieved when his two evening appointments canceled, leaving him free.

I swore not to think about the mysterious club business. Instead, I started a big pot of soup. The only good thing about a rainy day was soup. Well two things, I guess, soup and books. Deciding on beef barley, I assembled the ingredients and set it to simmer.

I stared into my empty living room and thought about the ratty chair that sat in the corner and was now inked on my back. I’d managed to add an end table for my lamp, more dishes and a kitchen table, but I hadn’t invested in furniture yet. I just didn’t feel safe and settled yet, so I kind of hoarded the money in my bank account, worried I’d have to pick up stakes and move again.

Did I have a reason to worry? No. Did I worry anyway? Yes.

After soup, I settled into my chair to reread one of my favorite werewolf romances before bed. I took a long time to fall asleep because I worried about Dare and whatever had the club all worked up.

After a bad night’s sleep, I woke up early and in a grouchy mood. With no furniture, cleaning wasn’t even a thing for me, so I decided to head to Marked Man for some work. I needed to do the month’s end work for June and do a detailed inventory using my new system. No time like the present, and hopefully my grouchiness would fade with the morning.

I was in the office cursing the damn ledger and erasing my month’s end totals for the third time when I heard someone beating on the door. The desk clock read ten thirty, more than an hour before we opened. I considered ignoring it when the beating sound came again, but this time it had a frantic kind of tone. I stepped out of the office to see a woman a bit older than me with blood running out of her nose and face filled with terror.

“Let me in,” she yelled through the glass then looked to the left and right.

I hurried to the door, unlocked it and pulled her inside. “Is someone looking for you?” I asked, relocking the door.

She nodded, sobbing.

Then I noticed she wore the same kind of vest the guys wore with Jericho Brotherhood on the back. “Go to the back, where the guys work, and I’ll be there in a minute.” She moved fast.

I stared at the door, smeared with blood and prints. I grabbed the cleaner and made quick work of cleaning the top of the door before I hurried back inside, locked up, turned off the lights and headed back to where the girl sat in a corner hugging herself.

I knew that look—the look of abuse. How many times had I huddled in a corner trying to keep myself together? Too fucking many to count.

I knelt in front of her. “Anything broken?”

She shook her head.

“You have a vest on—”

“Brotherhood cut.” She said it as if it meant the world.

I didn’t get it. “Who can I call for you?”

“Not the police. You didn’t call the police?” She leaned forward and grabbed my tee. “Did you?”

“Nope.” I closed my fingers over hers and she released my shirt but kept the finger balled tight. “Since you came to the shop, I thought you might be looking for Dare?”

She sighed and nodded. “Yeah, can you call Dare? I called him yesterday but then Donnie went crazy and I couldn’t get away or call.”

“Do you want a pop or water? I don’t have coffee down here.”

“Coke if you got it.” She rocked herself. I brought her the Coke and a warm wash rag for her nose before I shut myself in the office to call Dare.

He answered on the first ring. “Busy now. We might not even—”

“You looking for a girl, a woman older than me with a guy named Donnie?” Stupid, I hadn’t asked the girl’s name.