Chapter 24 Nic #2
A fearful scream pierces the air. I block it out. The boys’ll take care of their old ladies. I have to trust that.
My priority right now is Keeley. She’s on my bed naked while the police are kicking in doors down the corridor.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Rage tangles with something worse as I drag the shirt over her head, covering her body from whoever is about to come through that fucking door.
Her eyes are wide, but I can tell she hasn’t caught up to the danger yet. She doesn’t need to. I’m moving for the both of us.
“Nic?” That crack of fear in her voice hits my stomach like a punch.
I don’t stop to explain. I grab my joggers, opening them out for her. She barely lifts a leg when there’s a boom against the door.
Her eyes fly to it. Mine don’t.
“Keeley, foot. Now.”
But it’s too late.
They breach the room in two hits, the wood splintering as it rips off one hinge, dangling uselessly from the other.
There’s no warning beyond that, no call out, or chance to breathe before they flood into the room.
Instinctively, I shield her behind my back as armed officers point their guns at me. Light cuts across my face, blinding me momentarily. Unnecessary considering it ain’t even that dark now.
It’s all part of the game. Quick breach to disorientate and subdue as fast as possible.
Keeley clings to my back as men in body armour and tactical gear scream instructions I don’t give a fuck about.
“Police! Stay where you are!” one of them yells, spit flying from his mouth.
He points his gun right at my chest. I flinch—and not for me. I’m not scared of weapons. I’ve looked down my share of loaded barrels in my time. But right now, I’m terrified.
This isn’t just me at risk. It’s Keeley. The old ladies. The kids.
Fuck, the kids.
All it takes is one undisciplined prick, a rogue shot, and this situation goes south fast.
“Show your hands!” one demands.
I don’t. My hands are behind me, holding Keeley. She’s pressed so tight against my spine she’s making my teeth rattle as she trembles.
“Do it now!” another roars.
“Nic, just do it.” Her voice shakes, but I still don’t let go of her.
“We ain’t armed.” The words crack out of me, thick and furious. “There are kids in the—”
Two of the officers grab me. I’m dragged forward and I lose Keeley’s heat at my back.
No. No. Fucking no.
I try to turn, to reach for her, but a knee presses into the back of mine. My legs fold for a second before I lock them.
Keeley.
Another officer is reaching for her, and she pulls back.
She’s strong. One of the strongest fucking people I know and yet right now she looks fragile.
The t-shirt I managed to get on her keeps riding up, flashing too much skin.
Too much of everything no one else has the right to see or touch without her permission.
“Lay a hand on her and I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” I snarl.
Something slams into my temple. Pain explodes, white dots spilling through my vision as it fractures.
Fuck.
The room tilts just for a second. Then bodies press down on my back, forcing me to the floor.
I fight. Part instinct, part desperation.
Where’s Keeley?
Where the fuck is she?
I twist under the weight of the officers, trying to see past the bodies crowding into the room.
“Keeley!” I bark.
Her cry pierces the air and my body bends toward where it came from.
Fuck me.
My chest caves in as she stumbles forward, eyes wide and glassy with shock. The officer shoves her again before he hauls her forward like she’s nothing.
The crumpled bedsheets behind them are soft and out of place with the room of armed men.
Rage boils up my throat when the prick yanks her and the oversized t-shirt slides off her shoulder almost too low.
“Don’t fuckin’ touch her!” I roar, bucking so hard the officer on my back almost loses his grip.
More bodies shove me down, driving my face into the carpet. I lose her for a second behind the legs of men. All I can do is breathe in the pile beneath my cheek and wait for them to move.
When they finally part, the officer is forcing her onto her knees. His hand on her shoulder is like iron and completely unnecessary. Keeley’s tiny and she ain’t resisting. The force he’s using ain’t right.
My vision whites out.
I don’t even notice cold metal clamping around my wrists. I’m too focused on the nonstop screaming in my head to go to her.
To protect her.
He pushes her down, cheek and chest to the carpet, and then he drags her arms behind her back so roughly she whimpers.
Cuffs are snapped around her wrists, a knee pressed into her spine, like she’s a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound gym bro.
Too rough. Too violent. Too everything.
She ain’t struggling—she’s completely checked out. There’s nothing that warrants this cunt putting hands on her like this.
“Stay fucking down!” he yells at her.
I’ve never felt more useless in my entire life. She’s mine to protect, and I’m watching her get manhandled.
Her eyes close briefly, her breaths too panicked.
Too shallow.
No, babe. Not now. You can’t have a panic attack where I can’t help you.
“Keeley, look at me.”
The shirt has ridden up, showing the curve of bare ass. I grit my teeth. Someone is going to die for this.
“Sunshine,” I say, firmer this time, and her gaze finally comes to me. The look on her face fucking kills me, and even though I’m burning with rage, I keep my voice soft for her. “I’m right here.”
Her breath shudders out of her, but she nods just a fraction.
“Breathe, okay? In for five, out for seven.”
Hands yank me upright, but I don’t take my eyes off her. Not once.
She’s doing it, slowing her inhale and lengthening her exhale. Good. That’s really good.
The guy drags her onto her feet, pulling her cuffed arms too far back. She makes a sound I never want to fucking hear come out of her mouth again, and she twists. It takes me a second to realise she’s trying to protect her side—her stitches—stitches without the use of her hands.
I growl, sounding more animal than man. “Quit fuckin’ draggin’ her around.”
The officer turns to me and sneers. Then his hand tightens on her arm, goading me. Keeley flinches so hard I swear I feel it from across the room.
I buck against the officers holding me, but there’s too many and my head is really fuzzy.
But I keep fighting because she’s standing there hurting.
An arm wraps around my throat, dragging back, but I don’t care about air or pain.
I’ve never felt more fucking useless in my entire life.
The officer holding Keeley lets go just long enough to stand in front of me. He’s a head shorter, which is fucking satisfying. Especially when he has to look up at me.
He tilts his head, his eyes sparkling. “You don’t give orders here, boy.” I grind my teeth, glaring at him. “I’ll drag your little biker sluts wherever the fuck I want.”
Keep it up, fucker. You just went to the top of my list, right behind Demetri Morozov.
My nostrils flare and my pulse is a nonstop beat in my head as I memorise this fucker’s face. Every inch of it. The slope of his nose, the weak chin and those fucking eyes.
Yeah, you’re a dead man walking, you fucking cunt.
I drop my voice quiet and then I meet his gaze as if I’m not the one standing in cuffs. “Every time you touch her,” I say, “I’m gonna take it out of your flesh one piece at time.”
“You threatening a police officer?”
“Depends.” The hand on my arm tightens as I lean into him. “Do you feel threatened?”
Oh, I see that little flinch he tries to hide. Scared? You should be. This is my fucking city and this is my fucking clubhouse.
And Keeley’s my fucking old lady.
He stares at me for a long beat and I stare right back. Ain’t scared of him. Ain’t scared of anything but her being taken or hurt.
My gaze drops to the identification patch on his body armour and I memorise it. He follows my line of sight and laughs, but I hear the thread of nerves in it. “You want my name too?”
“Don’t need it.”
His mouth shifts into a tight line, but I don’t give a fuck about this pissing contest with him. There’s only one priority I have, and that’s Keeley.
“She needs clothes.”
“I don’t care what she needs.” He tears his gaze away. “Put them with the others.”
I’m shoved forward, but I’m already twisting to watch Keeley walking behind me. I’m not taking my eyes off her for a fucking second because this shit show has Demetri Morozov’s name stamped all over it.