Chapter 16
I ’d forgotten that Beau was a bit of a feeder, like someone's elderly British nanna. In times of trouble, he got you food. When we got back to the hotel room, he’d gotten food and hot tea sent up.
He sat outside the door as I showered and scrubbed every inch of my body clean and cried some more.
When he came in and found me in a ball on the shower floor, he stepped in there fully clothed and picked me up, taking me back to the main room.
He dried me with soft, impersonal hands before pulling one of Frankie’s oversized hooded sweatshirts over my head.
He patched up my face and tucked me into bed.
He made me drink a whole cup of tea and ingest a couple of sandwich triangles before he’d let me go to sleep.
“Beau?”
“Mmm?” he said softly from where he sat on the other side of the room.
“Can you lay with me?”
His face softened completely. “Always.”
He got up and shrugged off his shirt until he was just in his undershirt.
He kicked off his boots and then slid beneath the covers with me.
He tucked my body against his, his hands lightly resting on his own leg, like he didn’t want to cage me in.
I grabbed his arm and wrapped it around me, clinging to it like it was a life vest. Then I cried a little more.
I cried like I couldn’t cry in front of Frankie and Branch, because they were both savers.
They’d find who hurt me and murder them.
But Beau… Beau would take my pain and absorb it into himself.
He’d take my pain, my anguish, and hold onto it for me until I was better prepared to deal with it. He’d always been like that. Empathetic.
Eventually, I drifted off to sleep. I woke to the sound of a knock on the door, and Beau shifting away from my back.
He talked softly to whoever was at the door, and I pretended to be asleep.
I wasn’t sure I could take any more questions right now.
It was still too early for it to be one of my guys.
I felt more than heard someone beside me, and I stopped pretending to be asleep.
Dylan’s bright blue eyes looked tortured as he stared at me, on his knees beside the bed. He looked so helpless, and I couldn’t help but give him a small smile. “What are you doing here?” I said croakily. My throat had seized up a bit, making talking a little painful.
He held my hand and lifted it to his face. “Where else would I be?”
I swallowed hard and nodded, blinking back the tears that wanted to spill over again. “Hop in?” I asked, lifting the blanket a little.
He let out a whoosh of breath, and climbed to his feet.
He stripped off his clothes and climbed beneath the covers.
Beau slid in behind me. I was protected.
No one could get me here. I snuggled into Dylan’s chest. Someone's hands stroked my hair and Beau’s body curled around mine.
“How's your head?” I mumbled against his chest.
“Fine. Better now that I'm with you. Everything's better when we are together,” he said softly.
I sighed as that last remaining bit of tension left my body. “Sorry to outdo your drama.”
A surprised laugh burst from his chest. “Yeah, I’ll forgive you this time, but never again, okay? I promise you on my life, Tessa May Everett, never again.”
On that promise I fell asleep again.
The sound of voices woke me again the next morning.
Frankie’s face was in front of mine, my hands clasped in his, though he was still sound asleep.
There was no one behind me, but I looked over my shoulder and saw Beau, Dylan and Branch having a quiet, heated discussion.
Branch was shirtless, but he was still in his jeans and his socks.
His hair looked mussed, and he had dark bags under his eyes.
“I don’t give a shit what they want,” he gritted out between his teeth.
Beau shrugged. “Me either, but it's up to her. You try that overbearing shit with her, Branch, she’s going to run in the other direction.
I know you want to protect her, but Nugget is the strongest person we know.
She can handle it, or we will handle it for her. But it's her choice.”
Dylan shrugged. “I don’t have the history with her like you guys do, but even I know she isn’t gonna just slink away.
They want to meet with her and kick her off the tour?
Then she’ll go out swinging. And we’ll have her back.
They aren’t going to sweep this under the rug by flushing her dreams, Branch. We won’t let that happen.”
Damn. Frankie’s arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me back into his body. “Not gonna lie, Querida , these guys are growing on me. Maybe we should keep them,” he laughed softly.
God, I wished I could.
Their eyes all moved to the bed, and I was the sole focus of so many intense gazes. I smiled softly, the emotions in my chest too big for me to contain. “Hi.”
Branch came over and climbed into bed with me. He looked exhausted. “Have you had any sleep?” I asked, reaching up to stroke his face.
He gave me a brief glimpse at his dimples. “I’m fine. How are you feeling?”
My face was sore, as was my throat and head. But I could almost pretend it was a bad dream right now. So I shrugged. “Okay.”
He nodded, turning his face so he could kiss my palm. I looked over his shoulder at the rest of the guys. “You going to tell me what's going on?”
Dylan winced, and Branch’s eyes grew stormy.
“Junior had to have reconstructive surgery on his jaw. His father is on a warpath, saying that he must have found you with one of the other riders-” his eyes flicked to Frankie, who snorted derisively.
“He means that Senior said one of us dirty Brazilian riders, but not quite so nicely,” Frankie said, the anger in his voice basically a living thing.
Branch nodded, though he looked just as pissed.
“Anyway, he convinced the management that Junior must have been protecting your honor and that Miguel needed to be kicked off the circuit and sent back to Brazil. They all flew here for an emergency briefing. They want to call you in to get your side of the story, and Dylan thinks they’ll probably try and kick you off the circuit, using the assault as the reason. That it isn’t safe for you.”
My top lip pulled back and I snarled. “Because all men are animals that can’t control themselves?” I was furious. How dare they? “Why Miguel?”
Branch shrugged. “He’d been there watching Junior, making sure he didn’t slither off when the cops turned up. They decided that he must have done it, even thought there was literally nothing incriminating. His hands were clean, hell even his boots were clean. But they want a scapegoat.”
Rage replaced the pain. It replaced the fear and the terror and the horror of yesterday. I became a livid being of rage and retribution. I climbed over Branch and got out of the bed, slamming into the bathroom.
“Tessa, what are you doing?” Beau yelled through the door. “Are you okay?”
I stopped peeling off my clothes. I opened the door and stuck my head back around. “No Beau. I am not okay. I am pissed. I am beyond pissed. I am livid.”
Beau looked at me and grinned. “Get ‘em, girl.” As I slammed the door shut, I heard Beau tell Branch. “Told you she wouldn’t take this shit lying down. She is going to make those rich old fuckers wish they’d never been born.”
I grinned, but it wasn’t a pleasant expression. From his tongue to God's ears.
We all climbed out of Beau’s truck, and I held my head high.
I wasn’t wearing makeup to reduce the appearance of the painful bruises on my face.
I wasn’t wearing my hat to hide my eyes.
I’d brushed out my hair until it was a golden halo and clasped my mama’s cross around my neck. I was righteous vengeance.
The guys stood behind me. They had my back, even Dylan.
As I strode into the temporary offices of the WbrP, my blood was well and truly up. “Fuck you are beautiful,” Dylan groaned. “Honestly, you looking like an avenging angel makes me hard as a rock.”
Branch slapped the back of his head, and I smiled. We’d all avoided the topic of sex, because, well you know why. But the fact that Dylan didn’t look at me like I was damaged and fragile made me smile. I winked at him over my shoulder, and everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.
A part of me didn’t doubt they would still be mine even if I said I never wanted to have sex again. And that was an overwhelming notion for another day.
As we got to the elevator, we ran into Miguel coming out. My feet slowed and stuck to the floor as I had a brief flashback. But I gritted my jaw and squeezed Frankie’s hand. Miguel stopped when he saw me, his face full of rage and sorrow.
I raced across the space between us and wrapped my arms around him. “I’m so damn sorry. So, so, sorry.”
Miguel patted my back. “We’ve talked about this menina . This isn’t your fault.”
I pulled back and looked at his haggard expression. “What did they say?”
“They paid me out to leave. Hush money to retire early. Oh they didn’t word it like that, but that is what it is.”
I frowned. “Did you tell them to shove it up their fat, entitled asses?”