Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
I barely remembered tearing out of the junkyard on my Harley.
My mind raced ahead of my body as I thought about Kenna at the police station, clearly shaken. The thought twisted my gut, mixing fury with a fierce protectiveness. I needed to see her, to touch her, to know she was safe.
I hit over a hundred and ten on the highway, the wind screaming in my ears and suffocating my lungs.
I took the downtown exit at a reckless speed, weaving through traffic with practiced ease, and skidded to a stop in front of the police station, parking my bike right on the sidewalk, ticket be damned.
Inside, the station smelled of burnt coffee and sweat. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. I’d been here before, cuffed in a corner, staring at the scuffed linoleum for hours before the club lawyer sprung me.
I ignored the stares my cut drew as I scanned the room for Kenna. I found her huddled in the corner, her fiery red hair a beacon in the drab space with lines of evaporating fear still etched across her face. Without a word, I crossed the room and pulled her into my arms.
“Hey, are you OK?” I asked, looking into her eyes.
She nodded, tears rimming her lashes. “Yeah,” she said in a shaky voice.
My gaze grazed across her body. Red, hand-shaped marks covered one arm. Scabs peppered her palms. Her dress slacks were torn and bloody at the knees. I tipped her chin up, noticing a bruise forming under her jaw.
“He fucking hit you?”
Tears broke free and streamed down her cheeks. “I tried to fight back when he grabbed my purse. He punched me and then pushed me to the ground.”
My jaw flexed as I tamped down the fury inside me.
I kept my arm around her, pulling her close as I looked across the room.
Then I spotted Detective Rodriguez—a burly man with a bike of his own, who’d brought it to Bones once for new pipes.
He’d always treated us fairly, not judging the Mavericks or assuming we were criminals.
He’d even occasionally given us information that proved helpful.
“Detective Rodriguez,” I called, my voice steady despite the rage inside me.
He glanced up, recognition flashing across his face. His eyes flicked between Kenna and me, understanding dawning as he realized she was associated with the club.
“Hatchet, it’s good to see you.” He extended a meaty hand.
I shook it. “Do you have any leads on this?”
The detective shook his head. “Not my case. But I suspect it was a street gang.”
“Was anything caught on camera?”
He shrugged. “No city cameras. Maybe a local business. Don’t hold your breath, though. You know how it is. People get mugged every day down here. The case will get buried in days.”
I grabbed a scrap of paper from a nearby desk and scribbled my number. “Call me if you hear anything. We can’t have thugs beating our women up downtown. If PD isn’t going to handle this, the Mavericks will.”
The detective stared at me for a moment, his dark-brown eyes calculating. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the increase in violent crime over the past month?”
I nodded. It was all the news anchors talked about every morning.
“There’s a new gang in the Third Ward,” Rodriguez continued. “They call themselves the Jackals. They’re young and stupid. Reckless. Based on the colors Ms. Walsh described, that’s who you’re looking for.”
“Thanks.” I clapped the detective on the shoulder. “Bring your bike back in soon. The next upgrade’s on us.”
Once we stepped into the sun, I took another look at Kenna. Her skin was pale, her eyes still watery. I brushed a thumb over her cheek, wiping away a tear. The light caught the fine dusting of freckles across her nose, making her look younger and more vulnerable.
“Let’s get you home,” I murmured.
She blinked up at me. “Did you bring my keys?”
I shook my head. “We’ll get a prospect to pick it up later. You shouldn’t be driving.” I straddled my bike and handed her a helmet from the saddlebag. “Get on.”
I clenched my jaw as I watched her shaky fingers fumble with the helmet strap.
“Here,” I said, pulling her hands away from the clasp. “Let me.”
She took a deep breath, steadying herself. I clipped it, and she swung a leg over behind me. The engine roared to life beneath us, and the vibration thrummed through my body and into hers. I took her hands and wrapped her arms around my waist, holding them there for a moment.
“Hang on,” I yelled over the roar of the engine.
She pressed against my back, her grip tightening as we pulled away from the curb and merged onto the highway.
After a short drive, I stopped at a diner outside of town. “I think you need a milkshake and a piece of cake,” I said as I helped Kenna off my bike.
She managed a small smile. “Can they add vodka to the milkshake?”
I laughed. “Probably not here, but we’ll get you a drink at the clubhouse.”
Kenna settled into the booth and scanned the menu. I ordered before she decided on a strawberry milkshake and a slice of chocolate cake. As soon as the waitress left, I excused myself and stepped outside to call Merrick.
“How is she?” he asked without even uttering a hello.
I scrubbed a hand over my short beard. “Shaken and bruised. She downplayed it. She was punched and thrown to the ground. Scratched the fuck out of her hands, and I’m betting she’s got more bruises I can’t see.”
“Fuck,” Merrick growled. “What’s PD doing about it?”
“Rodriguez was there. Not his case, but he thinks it was a new gang. Says it’ll get buried. See if Linc can get hold of the police report and find any camera footage from the local businesses.”
“I’ll get him on it.”
“We’ll stop and get her keys on the way to the clubhouse after we leave the diner. I didn’t want her to drive. We’ll get a prospect to fetch her car tonight.”
“Bayou is here. We can have him grab it.”
I slipped my phone back into the pocket of my cut and walked back into the diner just as the waitress brought our milkshakes to the table. Kenna offered me a bite of her cake. I shook my head.
“Thank you for dropping everything to come get me,” she said in a soft voice. She paused as she considered her next words. “What did you mean when you told the detective that the Mavericks would handle it?”
I sucked down my chocolate milkshake. The cold smoothness soothed my hoarse throat. “You should be able to walk down the street during the middle of the day without being afraid.”
She chewed on her straw for a moment. “Nice evasion. I probably don’t want to know, do I?”
I smirked. “Probably not.”
“And you wouldn’t tell me, would you?”
I chuckled. “Definitely not.”
“Because it falls under ‘club business,’ I assume?”
I huffed a laugh at her air quotes. “Sassy. Almost back to your normal self.” She rolled her eyes, and I watched as she took another bite of cake. I waved down the waitress as I took in the darkening bruise below her jaw. “Can we get a bag of ice?”
The waitress shot me a glare. Her eyes flicked between Kenna’s bruises and the split skin on my knuckles, as if I were the one who’d hurt her. She left without a word, returning with a quart-sized bag of crushed ice wrapped in a paper towel.
“You good, hon? Need me to call anyone?”
I appreciated the waitress’s concern, though I hated the assumption that was clear in her eyes.
“Don’t worry,” Kenna said, reading into her look. “He’s not the one who did this.”
The waitress nodded, skeptical relief flickering across her face before she bustled off to another table.
We finished our shakes in comfortable silence.
The hum of the diner and the clink of silverware filled the space between us.
Afterward, we stopped by Kenna’s house for her spare keys.
I followed her in, peering into the mostly unpacked boxes sitting in the corner as she changed her clothes.
I wondered if she’d ever get the chance to settle, or if the chaos of this start to her life in Texas would chase her away.
When we pulled up to the clubhouse, the sun cast a sharp reflection across the chrome and polished paint on the bikes lined up outside.
I helped Kenna off my Harley, my hand lingering on her elbow, steadying her as she found her footing.
She was still a little shaky, and I wanted to make sure she was ready to face the group of concerned Mavericks waiting inside.
The clubhouse door creaked open as we stepped through. Linc, Reaper, and Merrick sat at the bar, their conversation halting as they turned to take us in.
“What do you want to drink?” I brushed her lower back, pressing her to the bar.
She sank onto a stool. “Tequila. On the rocks.”
I moved behind the bar, watching as Merrick’s eyes darkened at the sight of her scrapes and bruises. I filled a fresh bag of ice and pressed it to her bruised jaw before turning to pour a triple shot of tequila into a crystal glass.
“Linc got some video from a bodega,” Merrick offered softly. “We have his face. We’ll find him.”
Kenna gave him a rueful smile. “Hatchet says you’ll ‘take care of it.’” She used air quotes with a tight laugh.
“We will,” Merrick promised, his tone serious.
Kenna bit her lip. “I know I should be worried. But honestly? I’m not.” She let out a shaky laugh, half defiance, half confession. “It’s messed up, right? I keep telling myself that violence isn’t the answer, but I want him to be afraid. I want him to know what it’s like to feel powerless.”
“Atta, girl. That’s the Maverick spirit,” I said, pressing the drink into her hand.
She whispered a thank you and closed her eyes as she took a long sip. The overwhelming, simmering male protectiveness in the room seemed to settle her nerves. There wasn’t a safer place for her right now.
Merrick brushed a hand on her shoulder. “There isn’t a solid line between right and wrong.
People like to pretend it’s a painted stripe down the middle of the highway.
It’s not. The road’s full of potholes and detours.
We do what we have to do to take care of our own, even if it means crossing the line. ”
She swirled the tequila in her glass and took a long sip. Her lips quirked into a wry smile. “Guess I’m more like the Mavericks than I thought.”
That so-called line between right and wrong? It stopped meaning shit to me a long time ago. And when it came to protecting Kenna, there wasn’t a line I wouldn’t ignore, erase, or drag someone across.
The clubhouse door flew open as Eva rushed in. “Kenna,” she said with relief. “Reaper told me what happened. You should have called me. I would have left.”
Kenna shook her head. “It’s fine. Hatchet picked me up.”
Reaper wrapped an arm around Eva, kissing the top of her head before looking at Kenna. “We don’t want either of you downtown without one of us right now. Hell, I don’t want either of you going for a run out here without a prospect trailing you. The Jackals are becoming more violent by the day.”
Eva rolled her eyes before glancing at Kenna. “Lucky us. The Mavericks’ personal bodyguard service is a special experience.”
Kenna glanced between Merrick and me, realizing Reaper was completely serious.
“I have to take one of you with me every time I need to go downtown?”
“Until we get this taken care of, yes,” Merrick said as his eyes bore into hers. “They’re violent. A woman was killed yesterday in a carjacking. You could have been hurt much worse today. I won’t allow that to happen.”
“You realize I have meetings downtown almost every day? Shadowing us is going to be a full-time job. And I can’t have bikers sitting in. No offense.”
I wrapped an arm around her. “Don’t worry. We’ll stay outside. Just make sure you leave a window cracked for me.”
The room erupted in laughter, easing the tension for a moment. Kenna leaned into me, her body warm and solid against my side.
My eyes met Merrick’s, and I caught the subtle shift in his expression.
His face was usually a mask of cool detachment, but now his lips pressed into a thin line and his dark eyes flickered with a simmering anger.
He wasn’t just pissed. He was haunted by the sight of Kenna’s bruises, by the same helplessness I felt about not being there to stop it.
Merrick cared, maybe more than he’d ever admit.
I knew him better than most. I’d ridden with him through hell and back.
Since losing Rose, he’d locked away a part of himself—the part that let him care deeply about anyone outside the club.
He’d buried his heart with her, and none of us had ever seen him come close to digging it up.
His budding friendship with Kenna was the first flicker I’d seen in years of the Merrick I once knew.