Chapter 33
Josh
Stepping out the door of the house onto the porch, I’m hit by the cold morning air.
I barely feel it though; all I feel is her.
Veronica. Her body trembling in my arms. Veronica’s fingers twist the front of my shirt under her grasp, as if she thinks if she lets go of me, I’ll disappear.
I hold her closer, one arm under her legs, the other wrapped around her back, pressing her against me like I can somehow shield her from everything that's happened to her.
Rage burns through my veins. But not just that. There’s guilt and grief as well. If we hadn’t been arguing. If we had just paid attention. She never would have been alone. My jaw clenches so hard it hurts. We were idiots. All three of us. Hank more than any of us.
Luke stays close behind me as we move down the porch steps.
I glance over my shoulder back at the house we just rescued Veronica from.
Other than the busted in door, and members of the Hellions and Rejects moving around, it looks just as abandoned as when we arrived, shielding everyone from the monsters who lived within it.
The older model black cargo van is already waiting out front, idling in the street. One of the brothers must’ve gone for it while we were inside, knowing that we’d need it.
The back doors open and one of the prospects jumps out. I climb in first, ducking my head, careful not to jostle Veronica. Luke climbs in right after me, shutting the door behind us.
I settle onto the bench we had installed in it and shift Veronica ever so slightly so that her head rests against my shoulder. She whimpers and my heart damn near crumbles.
Through the back window I see another car pull up behind us. One of the Satan’s Rejects’ members climbs out just as the trunk pops open.
Luke glances in the direction I’m looking. “Must be for the dead men walking inside.”
I nod in agreement. They better enjoy what little time left they have to live. Because they’re about to feel the wrath of hell on Earth.
My attention quickly reverts to Veronica. My eyes drift over her, trying to catalog any wounds she may have other than her face.
Her fingers are still gripping my shirt as if it’s the only thing tethering her to this world. I lean my head down, brushing my lips softly against the top of her head.
“It’s okay, baby,” I murmur. “You’re safe now.”
Her breath shudders. “I wanna go home,” she whispers, voice cracking as she speaks, attempting to hold back her sobs.
The words cut straight through my heart. If I could take her home I would. But I need my medical office at the clubhouse. We need to handle those bastards. And if she wants to take her revenge on them, I’m going to make sure she has that chance. That it’s not taken from her.
“You will,” I promise quietly. “We just gotta check you out first. Make sure you’re okay. The clinic’s at the clubhouse. Then, I’ll take you home.”
“We’ll take you home.” Luke clears his throat, interjecting.
Her grip tightens on my shirt. “No,” she begs, shaking her head weakly. “Please Josh, just take me home.”
Luke moves from where he sat crouched on the floor of the van and sits down on the bench beside me. He places his hand gently on her leg.
“Sweetheart,” he says softly. “We just need to make sure you’re alright. We need to—”
Veronica starts shaking her head fiercely, her eyes widened with panic.
She speaks with shaky words, cutting him off.
“I am…he didn’t r—” Her voice fades almost if she can’t say the word.
Her eyes drop to her fingers clenched in my shirt, refusing to look at either of us.
“The son did… other things,” she whispers. “But no one… touched me there.”
Silence fills the van as the world stops. All of us feared for the worst. Death. Rape. For her to be alive, to tell us that didn’t happen is a small bit of relief. I let out a deep exhale as that small piece of comfort takes hold.
But the relief is tangled with something darker.
Because she’s still shaking. Still hurt.
Still carrying the emotional and physical proof of what those bastards did to her.
I want to ask what the son did to her. But she’s vulnerable right now, and as much as I want to push her, I can’t.
I need to be patient no matter how bad the not knowing is killing me.
My hand slides up into her hair, holding her head against my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, baby,” I whisper. “No one will ever do anything to you again. I promise.”
Luke’s phone rings. Neither of us move. His attention, along with mine, stays solely locked on her.
Then my phone starts vibrating in my pocket.
I ignore it. Already knowing who it is. Someone I have no desire to speak or talk to right now.
A moment later, Luke’s rings again. He pulls it out of his pocket and glances at the screen briefly, jaw tightening, but he still doesn’t answer.
Nothing matters right now except Veronica.
“We’re going to make them pay, Veronica.” My voice is low. Cold. “They’ll die.” My hand tightens slightly around her. “But not before they feel every bit of pain you did.”
Her breathing calms as if she’s finally realized she’s safe and can relax. “Good,” she whispers. A minute later her grip on my shirt loosens. Her breathing evens out, and I can hear her soft snores.
She’s asleep. Exhaustion from all the events of the past twelve hours having taken its toll on her body.
Neither Luke nor I say a word the rest of the ride to the clubhouse. When the van finally rolls to a stop, Luke stands first and opens the doors.
I stand carefully, adjusting her sleeping body in my arms so her head stays tucked beneath my chin.
She barely stirs; she’s so deep in slumber.
Stepping down onto the ground, I head straight for the clubhouse doors.
Brothers fill the outside of the building, clearing a path for us.
, lowering their heads as I pass. A sign of respect and support.
Because as much as Luke and I love her, she’s family to many of them.
Each of them willing to lay down their life for her.
I’ve barely stepped inside the building when a deep voice shouts, “Stop!”
Hank.
He’s already moving toward us, anger in every step, but there’s something else in his eyes. Pain. Hurt. Regret.
Luke leans in kissing Veronica on the head. “Go,” he tells me quietly. “I’ll handle him.”
I don’t hesitate and head straight to my clinic.
Right now, the only thing that matters is taking care of my girl.
Luke
I watch Doc disappear through the heavy wood clubhouse doors as they slam shut behind him with a dull thud. For a second, I just stand there, chest heaving, knuckles still throbbing from everything that’s happened tonight.
Then I turn my attention back to him. Hank. He’s standing a few feet away, arms hanging stiff at his sides, jaw tight like he’s been grinding his teeth.
Rage boils within me so fast it nearly blinds me.
“What do you want?” I ask sharply.
His eyes flick past me to the clubhouse door. “How is she?” he asks roughly. “Did they—”
I see the concern in his face. The sight of it only makes the anger worse.
Because this is his fault. She’d still be in the club if it weren’t for him fucking around with that bitch.
If he hadn’t been pushing Vee away every chance he got instead of trying to see if a relationship with all of us could work, she'd still be at work. She wouldn’t have left the building alone.
None of this would’ve ever happened.
“Why do you care?” I snap. “She’s not your woman. You’ve made that pretty fuckin’ clear.”
I can see the muscles in his jaw tensing.
“Fuck you, Luke,” he growls, as he steps closer to me. “It doesn’t mean I don’t care about her.”
“Her men will take care of her,” I growl.
He tries to shove past me toward the clubhouse door, but I move just as quickly to stop him. My fists are clenched and moving before my brain even has a chance to react to what I’m doing. I rear my arm back and slam it hard into his jaw. The crack of bone on bone rings through the yard.
His head snaps sideways, but he recovers fast—faster than I expected. His fist drives into my ribs hard enough to knock the breath out of me.
“Son of a bitch,” I grumble as I swing again.
This time he blocks me, grabbing my shirt and slamming his forehead into mine.
Stars explode across my vision but I don’t back down.
I shift my body and drive my elbow into his side.
He stumbles backward but regains his footing.
He rushes toward me as he swings again but I duck, driving my shoulder into his gut and sending us both stumbling sideways.
We’re both breathing hard now, rage burning through us.
“You should’ve been there!” I snarl, charging him, and shoving him so hard he has to step to catch his balance.
“You think I don’t fucking know that?!” he roars, swinging again. His fist connects with my cheek and my fist slams into his ribs.
We continue swinging at each other. Punch after punch, no one interferes as we settle this issue between us with violence.
We crash into the gravel, fists flying. Each of us punching the other and grunting in pain from the other's attack.
Pain erupts across my cheek as his knuckles connect. I taste blood where my lip splits open.
“What the fuck are the two of you doing?,” a thunderous voice cuts through the chaos.
Both of us freeze as strong hands grab our shoulders and haul us apart. Our brothers have finally intervened as Earl moves between us, eyes blazing with fury.
His gaze cuts from me to Hank, and the disappointment in it is worse than any punch.
“Hank, you can help Luca take our prisoners to the dungeon.”
I watch as Hank wipes blood from the corner of his mouth and shakes his head. “Pres, I want—”
“I don’t give a fuck what you want,” Earl growls.
The air goes cold.
“You have an order. Now do it.”
Then he shifts his gaze to me.
“Luke,” he barks, pointing toward the clubhouse. “Go and check on Vee.”
Silence hangs heavy between us.
I glance at Hank, unable to stop the smirk that tugs at my bruised lip. Then I turn and head for the clubhouse. I’m almost to the door when a hand grabs my arm. I glance back to see it’s Earl. His grip is firm, heavy with unspoken weight. “Did they…?” he asks quietly.
I know exactly what he means without him saying the words.
“She said they never did that,” I tell him.
The relief that flashes across his face lasts only a second.
“But they beat her up,” I continue,. “And something else…something she hasn’t said yet.”
His teeth grit together as he stares off into the distance, eyes dark with promise.
“They’ll be made to pay.” Every word sounds like a death sentence.
His hand drops from my arm. Without another word, he turns and walks away.
I shove the clubhouse door open and head inside, my heart pounding as I rush down the hallway to my woman.