Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
A sharp rap at my door startled me. Brisket, curled at my feet, lifted his head with a low growl. I hesitated, my pulse racing as I padded across the floor and peered through the peephole.
Merrick stood on my porch, his dark hair damp, the scent of soap and leather wafting through the door. He wore a clean black T-shirt and jeans, but his jaw was set in a way that made my stomach tighten.
I opened the door, and his gaze went straight to my neck. My hand flew to cover the bruises. His expression darkened, fury flickering in his eyes before he schooled his features into neutrality.
I stepped aside to let him enter. He moved past me, filling the small space with his presence. Brisket sniffed his boots, tail wagging. Merrick scratched the dog’s ears absently, his eyes never leaving my face.
“You OK?” he asked, voice low.
I shrugged, hugging my arms around myself. “I’m alive. Thanks to the self-defense you guys helped teach me.”
He tipped my chin up, looking at the hand-shaped imprint on my neck. “You did good. You got away. That’s more than most people. But it should have never happened in the first place.”
I swallowed hard, my throat aching. “What happened to Tyler?”
Merrick’s jaw tightened. “He’s alive. For now.”
“Will you—?”
“No,” he cut in, sharp. “We won’t kill him.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “So what’ll happen to him?”
He hesitated, eyes flickering to the bruises again. “We exposed him. Left him for another club to deal with, if his handler doesn’t get to him first. He’s not our problem anymore.”
I bit my lip, questions burning on my tongue. “Will they kill him?”
Merrick sighed. “Maybe. Probably. But it won’t be by our hands.”
I wanted to ask more, but the look in Merrick’s eyes told me he wouldn’t answer.
He stepped closer. “I just wanted to make sure you were OK.”
I nodded and swallowed, my throat tight. “I am.”
He reached out, fingers brushing lightly over my bruised skin. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”
I looked up at him. “It’s not your fault.”
He shook his head. “It is. It’s my responsibility to keep the club safe. To keep our women safe. I failed.”
The ache in my throat grew sharper. “You didn’t fail. No one could’ve known Tyler would do that.”
Guilt and anger swirled in his expression. “I should’ve known. Should’ve seen it coming. That’s the job. That’s what I’m supposed to do.”
I wanted to argue, but the look on his face stopped me. He wasn’t just angry. He was haunted. Like he’d let down more than just the club.
I took a breath, forcing a small smile. “Well, it’ll heal. The bruises will be gone by the party next week, I’m sure.”
Surprise flickered across his face. “You’re still coming?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Of course. You think a little bruise and a gun to my head is enough to scare me off?”
Merrick stared at me, his expression unreadable. “I thought after today you’d want to be as far from the club as possible.”
I shrugged. “I’m not going to let one bad guy keep me away from my friends. Besides, I worked hard on the opening video, and I want to see your reaction.” I offered a small smile, trying to prove that I was OK.
There was a moment of silence between us. I could see the conflict in his eyes.
“Kenna,” he said. And in that one word, I heard the relief in his voice. Merrick stepped closer, and the tension in the room ratcheted up a notch.
Just then, the door swung open without a knock, and Hatchet’s grinning face appeared.
Brisket bounded over, weaving between his legs and nearly tripping him.
Hatchet strode to me, arms already outstretched for a hug.
“There’s my girl! You look better than I expected,” he teased, pulling me close and kissing the top of my head.
Merrick’s expression flickered before he schooled it back to neutral.
“You OK?” Hatchet asked, rubbing my back before pulling away.
“I’m fine,” I said, smiling despite myself. “The bruises look worse than they feel.”
Hatchet held up a pink bakery box. “Good, ’cause I come bearing gifts. Maisie’s donuts, fresh from the oven. Figured you could use a sugar fix.” He opened the box to show colorful sprinkled donuts.
I laughed, grabbing a donut with pink frosting. “You’re the best.”
Hatchet winked. “Damn right.” He glanced at Merrick, then back at me. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”
Merrick cleared his throat. “No. I was just leaving.” He gave me a slight nod. “Take care of yourself.”
I nodded, and my chest tightened as I watched Merrick’s broad back disappear out the door.
The brutal Texas sun beat down on my bare shoulders as I helped Eva set up for the club’s fiftieth anniversary party.
The bruises around my neck had faded to a faint yellow easily hidden by a bit of makeup, but today, my head was the real problem.
I slipped a migraine pill from my purse and swallowed it dry.
“You OK?” Eva asked
“Fine,” I insisted, forcing a smile. “Just a headache.”
Her eyes narrowed as I slipped on my dark sunglasses.
Even under the shade of the tent, sweat trickled down my back, and the throbbing in my temples pulsed in time with my heartbeat.
To make matters worse, Aunt Flo had decided to crash the party.
My cramps, worse than usual, sent sharp pains through my center, and the cysts that liked to make my life hell every few cycles pulsed within me.
I gritted my teeth and kept working, helping Eva arrange tables and chairs, but every movement sent a fresh wave of pain through my abdomen.
As we tested the video to make sure the audio and visual equipment worked, I hunched over and gripped the edge of the table as a vicious cramp took my breath away.
“What’s wrong?”
I tried to straighten, but my hand stayed pressed to my stomach. “It’s nothing. Just … my period. Cramps. The migraine isn’t helping.”
Eva’s expression softened. “You should go home and rest. I can put the prospects on setup. You can come back later if you’re feeling better.”
I shook my head, even though the movement made my temples throb. “I don’t want to bail on you.”
Eva crossed her arms. “You’re not bailing. You’re taking care of yourself. Go. Lie down. If you feel better, come back. If not, stay home. No one will blame you.”
I hesitated, but another piercing pain twisted through me, and I knew she was right. “OK. Thanks.”
She gave me a quick hug. “Take care of yourself. I’ll text you pictures if you don’t make it.”
I managed a weak smile before grabbing my bag and heading for my car, the sunglasses still shielding my eyes from the unforgiving sun.