26. Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Five
Trix
Watching as Reeve races away on Mouse's bike, I feel helpless, scared, and for some reason, guilty.
If I knew he'd react this way, I never would've come here.
Spinning around, I'm faced with club members, all of them standing on the porch, staring at me with tense brows.
My eyes home in on Mouse, and I charge toward him, jabbing my finger into his chest when I reach him.
"Why would you do that?"
He raises his brows, looking down at me as if I should know the answer to my own question, and his silence irks me.
The doors behind him slam open, and Milo races out, keys in hand.
"Let's go, Trix."
He unlocks Reeve's car, pulling open the driver's side door and hopping in.
I quickly follow after him, and as soon as I'm strapped in, he stamps his foot down on the pedal, pressing it to the floor as he races down the road.
When we reach the end of the road, he shifts gear, then swings the car right before flicking his gaze toward me.
"This is all my fault," I mutter, shaking my head and worrying my lip.
"No," he states, focusing back on the road. "None of this is your fault."
"He doesn't understand what he's getting himself into."
Milo chuckles. "You're worried about Reeve in this predicament?"
I frown, nodding.
He smirks.
"Trix, if you should be worried for anyone, it should be your father. Reeve is the Enforcer for a reason. He's lethal when he wants to be, and I fear this is a situation where he'll do something that's going to get us all in shit."
Shifting gears again, he speeds up, and my fingers dig into the seat beneath me.
"The only reason I'm chasing after him is because I don't want him to get into trouble, and I can tell you're worried.
But if I get there and your dad is still conscious while Reeve is raining hell on him, then I'll happily watch, because what he's done to you isn't right, and he deserves some sort of punishment for it. "
I'm shocked into silence.
Fear rattles around inside of me, but I'm not afraid for the man who left a mark on me or scared for the one who's raced off to defend me. Instead, I'm terrified by the feelings stirring up inside of me.
Most of my life, I've been fearful, never feeling protected, or safe, but now, sitting in this car next to the gruff blond in the leather cut, and driving toward the fierce, tattooed, and complicated man I've spent so much time with in the past two weeks, I feel secure.
Milo turns into the trailer park, and I direct him to where mine is located.
My heart beats wildly in my chest, and my fingers dig deeper into the leather seat beneath me when Mouse's motorbike comes into view. It's lying on the grass, beside the trailer door that's been ripped off its hinges.
"Oh, shit," Milo grunts as he brakes abruptly. He pushes the gear stick into neutral, then yanks on the handbrake and shoves his door open.
I jump out of the car too, and we hurriedly make our way to the trailer.
I can hear the sickening sound of Reeve's fist meeting my father's face before the scene comes into view, and I grimace at the blood smeared across his skin.
Reeve's assault is relentless, fists flying rapidly, brutal kicks landing, and harsh words being spat out.
"Fucking coward," he shouts, landing one more blow to my father's mangled face before dropping his limp body to the floor.
Stretching his hands out, I gasp at the sight of his busted knuckles.
He turns toward where Milo and I are standing, eyes dark, and wild.
His eyes remain locked on mine, searching, but for what, I'm unsure.
"Go and get your stuff," he says. "You're not staying here anymore."
When I don't immediately move, Milo nudges me from behind, pushing me up the steps.
I cautiously move into the trailer, then glance down at my dad, who's curled up on the floor, garbling and groaning.
Reeve reaches out his hand, and when I place my palm in his, he tugs me forward, forcing me to hop over my father.
My eyes dart back up to his, and he squeezes my hand before letting go.
Rooted to the spot, I grab for his hand again, running my thumb over his cracked skin.
"Are you okay?"
His brows draw inward, then he smiles and nods.
"I'm okay, Red." Squeezing my hand once more, he says, "Go get your stuff, then we can get out of here."
Drawing in a deep breath, I turn away from him and walk through the trailer to the bedroom, scanning the mess that's been made since I've been gone.
Grabbing my duffel bag from the wardrobe, I move around the room, grabbing every item of clothing I own, stuffing it inside without care.
Once I'm sure I have everything, I move into the bathroom, collecting all my toiletries.
Walking back out, I see Reeve still standing over my dad, glaring down at him.
"I'm done," I tell him, lifting my bag when he looks at me.
"Good. Let's go."
He motions to the door, but I shake my head.
"You first," I tell him, not wanting to leave him in here in case he continues his onslaught.
He laughs as he runs his fingers through his hair.
"I'm coming with you, Trix. But I'll follow you out. There's no way I'm giving this fucker a chance to touch you again."
My lips part, but I feel them tug up at the corners.
He offers me his hand again, helping me to step over my dad. I keep a tight grip on it, as I pull him with me.
When we arrive at the clubhouse, Mouse, Callux, and Warren are all standing on the porch. Each of them has their arms crossed over their chests and wrinkles creasing their foreheads as they wait for us to exit the car.
Reeve reaches for my hand, squeezing it gently.
Flicking my gaze to Milo, who's climbing off Mouse's bike, I take a deep breath, then push my door open.
Stepping out, I stand there, staring at the men on the porch, and I wait until Reeve rounds the car and moves to my side.
He places his hand against my back, urging me forward, and we move together, stopping when we reach the steps.
My eyes flit to the floor when I find everyone staring at me, and the grip on my bag tightens.
"Trix is staying here for a while," Reeve says, making my head snap up as my jaw hangs open.
Swinging around to look at Callux, I shake my head.
"I don't have to," I tell him. "I will, if it's okay, but if it's not, I completely understand, and I'll find somewhere else."
He glances at Warren beside him before focusing on me, and I gulp.
His eyes run over my face, then drop to Reeve's hand that's now resting on top of mine.
"You're welcome to stay here, Trix," he says. "But only if you feel safe enough to do so."
Breathing a sigh of relief, I nod.
"Thank you," I mutter.
He dips his head, then turns to Reeve.
"You can set her up somewhere, then you can find me and fill me in on what you did, so we can think of a solution as to how we're going to handle this should it come back to bite us in the ass."
With that, he spins around and walks back into the clubhouse.
Warren steps down from the porch and places a hand on my shoulder.
"Welcome to the chaos," he says, patting me once before leaving.
Dragging my gaze over to where Mouse is still standing, I'm surprised to find him staring at me, a frown still marring his brow.
I can't quite decipher the look in his eye, and before I can try, he turns around and goes back inside, leaving me with Milo and Reeve.
Sighing, I lift the straps of my bag into the crook of my arm, as I flick my eyes back and forth between the pair of them.
"So, where am I staying?"
"You can use one of the rooms down—"
"No," Reeve says, cutting Milo off. "She's not staying downstairs."
Milo cocks a brow and chuckles quietly, while I frown.
Reeve takes my bag, then moves up the steps, leaving me to follow behind.
We walk through the bar area, and I drop my head, letting my hair cover the sides of my face so I'm hidden from the multiple eyes that swing our way.
When we reach the stairs, he glances over his shoulder, presumably checking to make sure I'm still following him, then he takes the steps two at a time.
Moving through the communal living room upstairs, he rounds the wooden dining room table, then opens the door that leads to the upstairs hallway.
So much has happened tonight, it feels like it was days ago, when in reality, it was only a few hours.
He crosses over to his bedroom, then opens the door and walks inside.
I stop at the doorway, glancing around the space inside.
The room is larger than I expected, with a double bed in the center, and the headboard pressed against the side wall. Either side of the bed are bedside cabinets, both with lamps on them, which Reeve turns on before he drops my bag onto the dark covers on his bed.
The room is complete with a matching set of chest-of-drawers opposite his bed, a TV fixed to the wall above them, and a small, two-seater leather sofa next to the door with a small round table in front of it.
He sits on the edge of his bed, unlaces his shoes, then kicks them off.
Peering up at me with narrowed eyes, he tips his head to the side.
"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to come inside and sort your stuff out?"
My eyes widen, and my mouth goes dry.
"Wait. You expect me to stay here? In your room? With you?"
His full lips twitch, and he rises from the bed, stalking toward me.
"Yes," he mutters as he reaches for my hand and tugs me inside the room, "I expect you to stay here. With me. In this room."
Laughing, I shake my head and pull my hand from his hold.
"Yeah, no. That's not happening," I tell him, eyes flicking to the bed behind him. "There's no way I'm sharing a bed with you."
He smirks, stepping closer.
"Why's that, Red? You don't think you could handle it?"
A shiver runs through my body, and my lips part as I stare up at him, completely taken aback by the soft, teasing tone of his voice.
He lifts his hand, bumps his knuckles against the tip of my nose, then chuckles as he takes a step back.
"You can have the bed," he says. "I'll sleep on the sofa."
A breath rushes out of me, and my shoulders drop.
"I need to go talk to Prez, and knowing him, this will take a while, so get your stuff unpacked and settle in.
There's a bathroom through there." He points at the door along the back wall.
"Spare towels are folded on the rack next to the shower.
In case you decide to use it, I'll make sure I knock before I come back in, and you can let me know if you're decent or not, okay? "
I nod, too dumbfounded to speak.
He glances around the room, then shrugs.
"I think that's it," he says as he walks toward the door. "Be back soon."
Opening the door, he steps out, but before he can shut it behind him, I call his name, stopping him in his tracks.
"Thank you," I tell him. "For everything you've done tonight."
His lips lift, and he rubs his hand against the back of his neck.
"Anytime."