Enough(64)

“She’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

Zayn nodded. “Call anytime, no matter what you need.”

I shut the door and tugged off my boots before I headed back to her. She lay motionless but I didn’t think she slept. I stripped out of my clothes and lay down beside her on my side. “It’ll be cold.” I placed the icepack across the left side of her face.

“Where’s the corn?” she mumbled, half asleep.

“Shh,” I soothed her, gently running my fingers over her curls. I told myself it was to help her sleep, but I knew it was as much for me, to calm me, as it was for her. In truth, being here probably comforted me more than her.





Chapter Nineteen: Lila

I woke up stiff the next morning with everything hurting. Dare slept on his stomach next to me, so I scanned the room, trying to figure out what had dragged me out of my numb sleep. I inhaled coffee-tinged air and knew immediately that was the culprit. I stood, wrapped up in my robe and padded to the living room to see how coffee had magically appeared in my place. Jericho sat drinking a to-go cup of coffee. He had two shiners and a split lip with more bruises on the way. I wondered which of us looked worse.

But what worried me most was how he sat sprawled on my couch in my locked apartment. How many people had keys? Did Thorn? Shit, I’d buy a security chain today.

Jericho nodded toward my kitchen where two more cups sat on the counter.

I grabbed one and studied him—rumpled, weary and looking like he hadn’t slept—someone else had a nasty day yesterday too. “Who else has a key to my place?”

He smirked at me. “Wanted to talk to you.” His voice was low. “Dare said not to.”

I pointed over my shoulder. “He’s in bed.”

“The shop?”

The man didn’t use any spare words. I thought about it and my first instinct was to walk away and back to Dare, but I did need to know about the keys and changing the locks, so I agreed.

Once we’d settled into chairs in the workroom, he sipped his coffee while he looked me over. “Painful?”

“Fuck off. Who has keys?”

He chuckled. “Dare, me, MJ, the Old Man.”

“Can I change the locks?”

“So you ain’t quitting?” He raised his brows over the cup tipped to his mouth.

I snorted. “Don’t be stupid.” I liked my job and no one would scare me away.

“Really?” Disbelief echoed in the one word.

I returned his stare, waiting for what he came to say.

“Change the locks, add five, I don’t care.” He blew out a breath. “Both MJ and Dare—”

“You call your mom MJ?”

“Sometimes.” He shrugged. “They both said you didn’t need to hear Thorn’s side. He was wrong and if you put his ass in jail, fine by them.”

I knew it. Dare might be okay with justice, but the club wasn’t. No surprise there. Men protected each other in a brotherhood no matter what a man did. The metallic taste of blood made me realize I’d bitten my cheek.

“It’s not about it being okay to smack women around. Will you listen?” He frowned and with his bruised face, he appeared menacing, frightening.

But I was too drained for fright.

I shrugged, secretly wanting to hear the big man’s story. Thorn could’ve killed me, yet something about the encounter nagged at me.

“A man named Thomas served his country as delta squad recon and marksman. One day on a fairly routine mission in Afghanistan they were ambushed.”

Being a fucked-up veteran didn’t excuse him randomly hitting women. My foot tapped, but I didn’t interrupt.

“Long story short, they captured and tortured him, along with the other two men. They died. He didn’t. But he did shit we never even want to know while a prisoner. He was eventually rescued and shipped home.”

Well hell. I hadn’t expected the sympathy I now felt for the guy.

“Six months in a VA psych ward addicted to drugs they prescribed him, then they set him loose in the world. Romeo found him on a company mission and brought him back. We helped him out, renamed him Thorn.”

I opened my mouth to deny the feelings of sympathy rushing through me.

“Goddammit, Jericho.” Dare rushed at him, fist connecting with Jericho’s mouth.

Shit. Dare growled in a feral way and punched him again.

“Dare. Stop!” I hoped my voice penetrated his thick skull.

His fist shook, cocked for another hit. He turned to me, rage and concern warring on his stark face. This man didn’t look anything like the one I knew.

“I want to hear, please let him finish.”

His face relaxed.

“Sit with me.” I patted the chair.