Chapter 5
Doc
I wake before the sun is up.
Habit.
The room is dim, gray light just starting to edge through the curtains. Carly is curled toward me, one hand fisted in the edge of my cut like she fell asleep guarding it.
Her breathing is steady. No tremors. No panic jerks.
Good.
I don’t move at first. I just watch her.
And I’m very aware of the way my body responded the second I woke up.
It’s been years since I’ve woken up so hard. I should regret that kiss more than I do.
I ease her hand from my cut carefully, sliding out from under her. She stirs, murmurs something soft, then settles again.
I step into the bathroom and shut the door.
The tile is cold under my feet. The mirror shows a man who looks steadier than he feels.
I turn the shower on.
Water pounds over my shoulders, down my back. I brace one hand against the wall and let my head drop forward.
This is a mistake.
She’s way younger. Fresh out of hell.
You’re forty. You’ve seen war. You’ve buried people.
She trusts you.
You kissed her.
The memory replays anyway.
Her mouth warm. Hesitant. Real.
The water cascades over me, hot and insistent, but it does nothing to dull the ache in my gut.
My cock throbs, hard and demanding after years of neglect. I shouldn’t indulge this, not with Carly just beyond the wall, still healing. I deal with it now so I don’t cross a line with her later.
I wrap my hand around the base of my cock, fingers curling tight. The slide of skin over rigid length sends a jolt through me. I stroke upward slowly, feeling it pulse in my grip, the heat building as water streams down my back.
My thoughts turn to Carly. Her blonde hair fanned on the pillow, blue eyes soft in trust, curvy body nestled close. I imagine her thigh over mine again, her warmth pressing in. The vision tightens my hold; I pump steadily, thumb brushing the sensitive tip where slickness beads.
Breath quickens, mingling with steam. I lean against the tile, cool against my heated skin, hips shifting into each motion. Pressure coils low, intense. Her lips part in my mind, inviting.
It's a betrayal of my role as protector, but the pull is fierce. My pace quickens, fist gliding faster until release surges. Sharp waves of pleasure pulsing from my core, spilling hot over my fingers while saying her name. I steady against the wall, chest heaving as it fades.
Guilt stirs, but so does resolve. I rinse clean, the water washing away the physical trace.
I dry off, pull on jeans, tug a shirt over my head, and step out of the bathroom.
The heat fades behind me.
I glance toward the bedroom.
The bed is empty.
Every muscle in my body locks.
I move fast toward the living room.
She’s on the couch, blanket wrapped tight around her, knees pulled up. Her head turns when she hears me.
Her eyes find mine.
Relief hits her face first.
Then something else.
“You’re up,” I say.
“I heard the shower,” she replies. “I thought you left.”
Something tightens in my chest.
“Not happening,” I say. “You should be sleeping.”
Her shoulders drop a fraction.
She looks at me again, slower this time. My hair’s damp. The air between us shifts in a way that has nothing to do with fear.
Her gaze lingers.
Mine does too.
“Morning,” she says quietly.
“Morning.”
The silence that follows is heavier than it should be.
Her lips part slightly like she’s about to say something else.
A knock hits the door.
We both turn toward it.
I check the time on the stove clock.
Early.
I already know who it is.
I open the door.
Viper stands there, easy and alert at the same time, coffee tray in one hand, a big bag in the other. Ava is beside him with a paper bag that smells like sugar and butter.
“Morning, Doc,” Viper says.
“You always bring breakfast when you’re planning to interrogate someone?” I ask.
He smirks slightly. “Helps.”
Ava steps inside first, warm without being overwhelming. “We brought coffee. And waffles. I figured she hasn’t eaten much.”
Carly’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of them. She pulls the blanket tighter, uncertain.
Ava’s tone shifts instantly, soft but steady. “Hey. I’m Ava.”
“Carly,” she answers.
Viper sets the coffee down and takes in the room in one sweep. Windows. Doors. Exits. Then he nods once at me.
“All quiet,” he says.
“For now,” I reply.
Ava moves to the couch slowly, careful not to crowd. “You mind if I sit?”
Carly shakes her head.
Viper stays standing, leaning casually against the wall, but I know he’s tracking every reaction in the room.
“We heard about Red Hot Velvet,” he says. “You said that’s where you were taken.”
I’d texted the Saints what little she’d told me.
Carly nods, fingers tightening in the blanket.
“Did you see other girls?” he asks. No pressure in it. Just direct.
She swallows. “I heard… someone crying. Once. In another room.”
Ava’s jaw tightens, subtle but real.
“Did they move you?” I ask. “Transport? Mention anything about a timeline?”
Carly shakes her head. “They said I’d sell for more.”
The room goes still.
Viper’s expression doesn’t change much. But something hard drops into it.
Ava reaches out slowly and places her hand over Carly’s. “You’re not the only one,” she says gently. “And you’re not the last. The Saints handle this kind of thing.”
Carly looks between them.
“Handle it how?” she asks.
Viper answers. “Thoroughly.”
There’s no bravado in it. Just fact.
Carly watches the way Ava glances at Viper, the way he shifts half an inch closer without thinking. Protective without smothering. Present without controlling.
It’s subtle.
But she sees it.
Her gaze flicks back to me.
“You really can stop them?” she asks quietly.
“Yes,” I say.
No hesitation.
Ava squeezes her hand once. “You did the hardest part already. You got out.”
Carly’s chin lifts a fraction at that.
Viper pushes off the wall. “We’ll start digging into the club. Sin’s already tracing ownership and cash flow. Ghost’s got eyes on the property. Havoc’s aware.”
Carly blinks. “That’s… a lot.”
“That’s how they work,” Ava says softly.
They finish their coffee. The waffles go mostly untouched, but Carly manages a few bites.
Before they leave, Ava turns back to her.
“You’re safe here,” she says gently. “And if you need anything, you ask.”
Carly smiles faintly.
“Oh—and I almost forgot. I brought you some clothes. And boots.”
She glances over her shoulder, and Viper hands her the bag without a word.
Carly’s eyes widen a little as she takes it. “Thank you.”
When the door shuts behind them, the cabin feels smaller somehow.
Quieter.
I turn back toward her.
She’s watching me like she’s piecing something together.
“You weren’t kidding,” she says.
“No.”
She studies me another second.
Then her gaze drops to my mouth.
Mine flicks to hers before I can stop it.
The air shifts.
This time, there’s no fear in it.
Only heat.
I close the distance.
My hand finds her waist, firm enough to feel the curve, loose enough that she could step away.
She inhales sharply.
She doesn’t move.
“Tell me to stop,” I say, low.
Her eyes hold mine.
She shakes her head.