Chapter 7
I must have gotten kind of used to all the noise, because when I woke up the next morning, the silence made me uneasy.
I descended the ladder and opened the front door, but no one sat in the chair in front of the clinic.
I peered into the morning sunlight, but I couldn’t see any sign of Mac’s crew.
Anxiety skittered across my skin, and I shut the door and busied myself getting ready for the day.
Maybe Madame had decided I didn’t need a full-time guard anymore.
This is a good thing. The sooner they trust you, the sooner you can try to get the fuck out of here.
My stomach growled. Sam hadn’t brought my broth.
The morning bells had rung a while ago, and I didn’t feel like braving the canteen by myself.
I forced myself to ignore my hunger and sat to continue reading the previous healer’s notebook.
I hadn’t gotten very far when the door opened.
I looked up to see a man slip inside, and I froze at the sight of one of Madame’s guards who’d “made a pass at me,” as Mac put it.
I caught a glimpse of the other one standing outside as though guarding the door.
My stomach twisted in fear. I could wager a guess at what would come next.
“Can I help you?” I asked, setting the notebook on the counter.
The man gave me a sickening grin and raked his gaze up and down my body. “Oh, I think you can, baby.”
Fuck.
The eager anticipation in his eyes made me want to retch.
I waited until he started prowling closer before I lunged around the exam table for the exit.
Quick as a snake, he snagged me around the arm and shoved me against the wall, his hot, foul breath in my face and hands groping my chest. I got an arm free and swung with my whole body.
The meaty part of my fist connected with his nose, just like Wolf had taught me, and I heard the audible crack.
He grunted in rage and pain and stumbled back.
I tried to dart around him, but he tackled me to the floor, blood spurting from his nose.
“You bitch,” he snarled.
I kicked him hard in the groin, and he swore as he crumpled. I scrambled across the floor, managing to get to my feet again.
I made it a few steps from the door when it opened, and his buddy darted in like he’d heard the commotion.
I changed directions, trying to get to the loft ladder, but the second man tackled me to the floor.
I twisted, managing to rake my fingernails down his face, leaving bloody lines, and he jerked his head back, swearing.
I tried to scurry out from under him, but he lunged, putting his full weight on my legs, and caught my hands, pinning them to the floor.
“You like it rough, huh?” he said, grinning down at me even as blood welled up from the scratches I’d given him. “I thought so.”
“Get off me!” I hissed, bucking my hips, but I couldn’t move his bulk.
“I think that bitch broke my nose,” the first asshole said from where he’d finally managed to stop moaning about his balls.
“Quit whining, Dale,” the one on top of me said. “It’s boring if they don’t fight.”
Bile rose in my throat. I strained to get away, breathing hard, but he didn’t move.
“I think we’re gonna have some fun,” he said, his eyes glinting.
Dale appeared beside us, glaring down at me. “Careful where you stick your dick in this one, Pike. She might bite it off.”
I snarled at them. Panic started to take hold of me, even as I battled it.
“S’alright, Bones. I like my women wild,” Pike said. He peered up at Dale. “Hold her arms.”
I tried to fight, but Dale pinned my arms down. Panic made me struggle for each breath now, desperate and furious tears welling up in my eyes. Pike leaned down, his foul breath hot on my face.
“Don’t worry, baby.” The victory in his eyes made mine overflow. “I can make you feel real good.”
His mouth slammed down on mine, and I squirmed, desperately trying to turn my head. He kissed me roughly, one hand sliding up my shirt, and for a moment I was back in the desert, sobbing and begging as Juck pinned me down.
I managed to catch his lip in my teeth, and I bit down as hard as I could. He yelled, and the metallic taste of his blood filled my mouth. When he pulled back, I was viciously pleased to see I’d ripped his whole fucking lip. I spit a mouthful of blood at him.
“Told you she was a biter,” Dale sneered.
I barely had time to gasp in a breath before Pike’s fist connected with my face.
My head snapped to the side, the pain blinding me.
He hit me again and I couldn’t shield my head since Dale had my arms pinned.
His next blow connected with the healing gash on my temple and the pain burst through my head like a flare.
When I finally focused on the room again, Pike had his pants undone and was fumbling with mine.
He grinned as I struggled to stay conscious.
I blinked and Juck’s face leered down at me again.
No! Gods…
Somebody tackled him off me and they went rolling like fighting cats. A roar of noise deafened me, and I tried to focus on the blur of movement. Before I knew it, a body was leaning over me, something pressed against my head.
I panicked, flailing. I tried to sit up, but someone’s hands pinned my shoulders to the floor. I gasped in a frantic breath and started kicking.
“Bones! Bones, it’s Mac!”
I froze, blinking up at him. It wasn’t Dale or Pike. Mac crouched over me, his eyes flashing.
“You’re safe. Stay down. You’re hurt,” he said, sharp as cut glass.
I shoved his hands off and rose onto my elbows, eyes darting around the room. Pain stabbed through my head, but I didn’t see the men anywhere. I glanced down at my legs, relieved that my pants were still on.
Mac reached for me again, but I scrambled away, getting to my feet and staggering back to lean against the wall as the room spun. He stilled, a terrifying glare on his face.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, Bones,” he said. “That gash in your head split open again.” He held up a bloodied cloth he must have been pressing against my head. “You should sit.”
I could not fucking sit right now. My instincts screamed that I needed to be on my feet, I needed to be able to run if necessary.
I took deep breaths, trying to get past the dizziness, but I kept smelling that foul breath, kept feeling their hands on me, kept seeing Juck’s face.
My head hurt like hell. I touched the side of my head underneath the gash and sure enough, my trembling fingers came away bloody.
“You want a narc?” Mac asked, his voice quiet steel.
“No!” I burst out, far too quickly.
I finally met his gaze to see him studying my face like he was checking for a lie. A sudden sickening fear hollowed me out. He was going to tell me I didn’t get a choice. He was going to drug me anyways. My body was already reacting—shoulders drawing in, chin tipping down, voice careful and small.
“Please, Mac, no drugs.”
He stared at me for a long time, and something in his face shifted. His jaw flexed. Finally, he nodded once. Relief loosened something in my chest, but then the shame hit. I hated how quickly I slipped into groveling.
“Alright. No drugs.” He took slow steps toward me and held out the bloodied cloth. “Put some pressure on that. Looks like it’s gonna need stitches this time.”
I pressed the cloth to my head as the room continued to spin. “I can do it.”
He looked me in the eyes, so close I could see the ring of golden sparks around his pupils. “Thought you said you couldn’t heal yourself.”
“I can’t,” I tried to snap, but my voice shook, “but I can give myself a couple damn stitches.”
His gaze narrowed into a glare, but before he could speak, the door blew open. I jumped and Mac spun on his heel, his hand on his gun. Then he relaxed with a scowl.
“Dammit, Trey, I almost shot you.”
Trey didn’t pause, barreling his way over to me in a determined fury. I retreated a few steps, and he immediately stopped, scanning me. His face was flushed and a slight tremor went through his entire body.
“I shoulda killed him,” he said in a low, harsh voice.
“Lana?” Mac asked.
“With Griz by the gate.” Trey met his gaze.
Mac nodded. “I’ll deal with it.”
“Lana?” I asked as Mac slammed the door on his way out.
Trey studied my battered face, but he didn’t meet my eyes. “She volunteered for guard duty.”
I read between the lines, my insides twisting.
“I’m sorry,” Trey said roughly. “She said she wanted to make things right. I thought I could trust her.”
Clearly, you’ve never lost a brother, I wanted to say, but I didn’t.
“What’ll happen to her?” I asked, remembering what Sam had said about their code.
“If she’s lucky, exile.”
I didn’t care what happened to Lana, but I couldn’t help the dredge of memories his words brought up. Lucky? Exile was far from merciful. I started shuffling toward my supplies, trying to ignore the way the room tilted.
“The fuck are you doing?” Trey demanded.
“Gonna stitch up my head,” I muttered.
I made it one more step before he blocked the way, but he didn’t touch me.
“Sit your ass down,” he said, pointing at the chair.
“I can—”
“Please, Bones.” His voice cracked with emotion. “Please let me do it.”
The sharp pain in his voice killed any fight I had left. My shoulders sank, resistance bleeding out of me.
Wordlessly, I got myself up on the chair.
He scrubbed his hands in the sink before gathering the supplies. When he moved back beside me, he lifted a clean wet rag. “You ready?”
I nodded, and he began to dab the blood off. The memory of him doing the same thing under the rover headlight swam through my head.
“I’m sorry,” he said again in that rough voice. “I shoulda been here.”