Chapter 3
3
Carver
B link cleared his throat once we were all seated at the table in the chapel, drawing our eyes to him. “The girl doesn’t know anything. That much was clear when she was talking. As terrified as she is, she’d spill anything if she thinks it’ll save her life.”
“Well, what the fuck now?” Grit grunted, leaning back in his chair and scratching at his beard, his expression filled with agitation. “We can’t do shit with that.”
“We know the Lockheart MC is looking to take us all out, and they want a confirmed kill on Lindsey,” I spoke up.
Carter scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Like fuck are they getting either of those.” He lifted his beer to his lips, his fingers stained with grease from working on a busted-ass truck he bought to fix up.
“She’s afraid,” I said, looking at Blink. He nodded in agreement. “Her old man’s got her spooked. She looks like an imprisoned bird that just escaped for the first time.”
“And you’re telling me that instead of running, she came here to enemy territory, where she could be killed, to check if Lindsey was okay?” Carter shook his head, pursing his lips. “I don’t know whether that makes her brave or stupid.”
“Probably a mix of both, to be honest,” I admitted. Grit snorted.
“I’m not comfortable sending her back,” Blink admitted. “Derrick Lockheart is gonna wanna know where the fuck she went, and that girl is a shit fuckin’ liar.” He wasn’t wrong. “And even if I did want to get her the hell out of here, Lindsey would have me sleeping down here on the couch for a week if I did.”
Yeah… she would. She had Blink by the fucking balls. Hell, that woman had mad respect from all of us, and we loved her. She was sweet and had the kindest fucking soul I’d ever come across. Hell knew why she wanted to shack up with a bunch of rough-around-the-edges outlaws, but she did. And she was in love with one of the worst of ‘em.
“What do you suggest we do with her then?” Grit asked. “Don’t want her running around up here with the rest of us. I don’t trust her yet. She might be a tiny little thing, but she’s obviously got a big fuckin’ mouth.”
“Neither do I,” Carter said, agreeing with Grit. “So, what’s the plan, brother?”
Blink looked at me. I sighed because I already knew what was coming, and I didn’t want the fucking responsibility. “You brought her here. Your problem.” I scowled at him. “Babysit her until we know what to do with her. Lindsey should be whipping up dinner. Make sure Jennifer eats and gets some fluids in her.”
“I don’t want to be stuck on fucking babysitting duty,” I growled, crossing my arms over my chest. “Send her back to her father.”
Blink shook his head and pushed back from the table. “No. Do as your told. Church adjourned.”
“Asshole,” I muttered. I knew Blink heard me, but he chose to ignore me. I sneered at his back and pushed back from the table as well.
“Sucks to be you,” Carter sing-songed as he walked from the room, tossing his empty beer bottle into the trashcan by the door.
I curled my lip up at him in a snarl. “Fuck off, dimwit.”
He snickered and left the chapel. Grit clapped a hand to my shoulder. “Maybe he won’t keep her around for long, brother.”
God, I fucking hoped not .
The last thing we needed was the daughter of our enemy all up in our space.
Jennifer was quiet when I entered the basement, her head slumped with her chin resting on her chest. Upon closer inspection, I was a bit amused to find her asleep. But then, that also made me a bit angry on her behalf. Because the only people I knew who could sleep in such an uncomfortable position, especially when they had no idea if they were safe, were military and abuse victims.
It was clear which one she was because she definitely wasn’t military.
“Hey,” I called. Jennifer groaned and slowly lifted her head, squinting at me through slitted eyes. I set her food on the chair Blink had been sitting in earlier before lightly tapping her cheek. “Wake up, princess. You need to eat.”
She licked her chapped lips, waking up a little more. “Food?” she croaked.
“Yeah.” I arched a brow at her sleepy face. “If I untie you, are you gonna attack me?”
She scoffed, a frown marring her pretty features. “I can barely throw a punch, Carver. I’m not going to attack you.”
I didn’t like that, which was weird because I didn’t want her to attack me. But still, knowing she didn’t know how to defend herself was a little worrisome. And that was probably why I was able to subdue her so easily last night.
After cutting the ties around her wrists, I inspected them, frowning at the split-open skin. They would scar, but wasn’t shit I could do about that—not when she was going right back in another set of zip ties as soon as she was done eating. I wouldn’t chance her escaping—not if Blink wanted her to remain here.
Even if that meant I had to play the fucking babysitter.
I handed her the plate of food, watching as she quickly began to scarf it down. I wasn’t even sure if she was chewing the food completely before swallowing it. Hell, was she even tasting it?
“When’s the last time you ate?” I asked her.
She paused, glancing up at me beneath dark lashes, her pretty blue eyes wide. She settled her plate on her lap, looking like she was thinking. I clenched my jaw, trying to contain the anger swelling in my chest.
Just how bad had the situation been that she’d left?
“A day or two ago, I think,” she admitted. “I was on foot for a while.”
On foot… she’d literally escaped her father. Jesus Christ .
“Eat, princess.” She quickly went back to eating. I didn’t say anything else until she’d cleared the plate. For a moment, I thought she might even lick it clean. Taking it from her, I handed her the bottle of water. “Do you remain with your old man by free will?”
She shook her head, gulping down the water. A little leaked down her chin, and my fingers twitched with the urge to wipe it away. Or lick it away.
Fuck, I needed to get my shit together. I couldn’t want the traitor like this. I couldn’t . She was off limits.
“No,” she rasped once the water bottle was empty. I took it from her, setting it on the plate to dispose of upstairs. “Like I said… I don’t get to go out much.”
“And by that, you mean he’s holding you prisoner.” She shrugged one slim shoulder. “Why?” I demanded, becoming angry on her behalf.
She huffed, looking tired and frustrated. “I don’t know. Mom left when I was a kid. Maybe he thinks I’ll leave, too?” She frowned. “I do all the cooking and cleaning. Record when they have a woman willing to do a sex tape.” She shrugged. “Maybe he just doesn’t want to have to find someone else to do all that?”
A low growl rumbled from my chest. “Are the women willing or drugged?”
She shrugged again, but this time, she didn’t speak. I rolled my jaw around before standing to my full height and moving around the chair. She silently slid her arms back into place, and I slid the zip ties around her wrists again, hating the blood that immediately coated them. But I tamped down the urge to take care of her.
Still, once she was bound again—and my dick was pressing into my zipper because fuck , there was something about her being at my mercy that I really fucking liked—I gripped her chin, forcing her blue eyes on mine. “You’re not going back, Jennifer.”
With that, I snatched up the plate and stormed up the stairs, my insides in a fucking turmoil.