Chapter 20
ISAIAH
Ipeeled my hands off the steering wheel and shut off my truck. Then I breathed.
We made it. I ran a hand over my face, shaking away the anxiety.
Driving Genevieve home today was easier than it had been the day she’d been sick, but only by a fraction. Even though I hadn’t had that fucking nightmare since I’d started sleeping in bed with her, it was still screwing with my head.
Maybe I should have risked a glance at her—just to see that she was alive and breathing. Would it ever get easier? Probably not. I didn’t deserve for this to be easy.
Genevieve opened her door first and gave me a sad smile. “Let’s go up.”
I nodded and climbed out on shaking legs. Adrenaline streamed through my veins, both from the drive and seeing that motherfucker’s hands on her. I shoved that image away before I went into a rage.
Someone had come after Genevieve. My wife.
We clung to one another as we climbed the stairs home. I helped her out of her coat and shook off mine. She left her shoes on and the spiked heels dug into the carpet as she crossed the room and sank onto the couch.
Fuck, I could have lost her today. That guy could have taken her. He could have strangled her beside her car and left her lifeless body in the snow. Maybe he’d wanted to do to her what he’d done to that baby pig.
What would I do without her? Losing her would destroy me. She was the best thing to come into my life in years, and if protecting her from this meant I spent the rest of my days in prison, I’d go tomorrow.
“V,” I whispered.
Her eyes were glassy when she met my gaze. We were both thinking the same thing. “We can’t keep this a secret anymore.”
“No.” I joined her on the couch and my hand found hers. “We need help, doll. The secrets aren’t worth it if I can’t keep you safe.”
“Everyone will know what happened.”
“They won’t tell.” It had taken me months to fully understand the loyalty these people had to one another.
As we’d watched Draven’s trial progress, as we’d shared our lunches and our lives, as we’d turned old wrecks into works of art, I’d gotten a glimpse of the brotherhood Dash and Emmett and Leo had had in the club.
They wouldn’t betray us. I saw that now. We could tell them the truth and they’d safeguard it with their lives.
Genevieve clutched my hand. “They’ll know our marriage isn’t real.”
But it was real, wasn’t it? Somewhere along the way, this marriage had become the most real thing in my life.
“We’ll deal with it,” I said. “We’ll figure it out.”
She fell into my side, her cheek resting on my shoulder.
I shifted, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. “Let’s wait until the garage closes. Wait until Pres goes home. She doesn’t know everything that’s happened with the Warriors lately, and I think Dash wants to keep it that way.”
“Especially if the Warriors are trying to get to us through Jeremiah.”
While we trusted Presley implicitly, Jeremiah was a different situation. And Pres didn’t need to be put in the middle. We worried enough about her, sending her home each night. She’d assured us that the Warriors were gone and she was safe.
But she was Presley. We worried.
Genevieve and I leaned into one another, settling deeper into the sofa as we waited.
I closed my eyes and blocked out the world beyond our door.
I hugged my wife. I pretended the illusion was true—that Genevieve and I had met and fallen in love on the same day.
That I was just as head over heels in love with her now as I had been on day one.
Maybe I was.
But it was time for the illusion to come to an end.
I kissed the top of her hair as she breathed me in. We were both savoring these last moments.
Until the sounds from the garage began to dull.
And our time was up.
An hour later, when the garage was closed for the night, everyone was in our apartment. No one had hesitated when I’d asked them up.
Though it was only six o’clock, it was dark outside. Daylight in a Montana winter was as short-lived as phone calls had been in prison. The black window matched the mood.
Draven, Leo and Emmett were shoulder to shoulder on the couch. Bryce and Dash were at the table, while Genevieve and I sat on the end of the bed. This was the most people I’d venture to guess had ever been in this apartment. We wouldn’t have to speak loudly to hear one another across the room.
“What are we doing here, Isaiah?” Draven asked.
“Something happened today,” I said.
Dash sat straighter. “What?”
“Someone came after Genevieve.”
The room exploded.
Not in the typical explosion where people shot out of chairs and began pacing. Not a soul moved. But the tension and anger and fear that detonated into the air was an explosion, nonetheless.
“When?” Draven asked through a clenched jaw.
“After work,” Genevieve answered, telling them about leaving early. She shuddered as she described how the man had dragged her from her car. As she spoke, her hand drifted to her hair where, beneath those brown locks, I was sure a nasty bruise was blackening.
“Did you get a look at him?” Dash asked.
“Yes.” Genevieve nodded. “I’ve never seen him before. Dark hair. Brown eyes. But he wasn’t one of the men I found in my research, so I don’t know his name.”
“He was wearing a Warrior cut. I only got a look at him from behind. When I got there, I shouted, and he ran to the back of the building. Disappeared. He never did turn so I could see his face.”
“Fuck,” Dash spat. “Tucker thinks it’s us.”
Genevieve’s hand found mine on my knee. She squeezed it, then gave me a sad smile.
This was it. The end.
No more secrets.
“There’s something you guys should know.” I blew out a long breath. “We lied to you. About what happened in the cabin.”
Dash’s face turned stone-cold, his expression harder than I’d ever seen it before. Bryce’s jaw dropped. Emmett and Leo shared a wide-eyed look. Draven frowned but didn’t seem surprised. Maybe he’d known all along.
“I ran to the cabin. You guys know that already,” Genevieve said.
“The door was unlocked so I slipped inside. I thought I could hide there. My feet were hurting so badly, I knew I couldn’t run fast or far.
It was dark inside, but there was a light coming from the far back corner.
You wouldn’t have even seen it unless you’d gone inside, so I walked that way, hoping maybe it was a back exit or something. It was a stairwell.”
Dash scoffed. “And let me guess, you went down.”
“No.” She shot him a glare. “I went the other way, toward a room. I was looking for a way out so when I saw it was just a room, I almost turned and left. But then I saw it was full of bags. All plastic. All tiny. And all of them were filled with something white.”
“Drugs,” Bryce guessed. “The Warriors were using that place to store drugs.”
“They’re dealing now?” Leo asked.
Draven shook his head. “Doesn’t seem like Tucker’s style.
He wants the money from the suppliers but knows getting involved in distribution would put a target on his back.
They’re not dealers. They’re the muscle and the guns.
But maybe they added a service. Instead of just running protection routes on shipments, they’re doing some storage too. ”
Protection routes? For drugs? Was it something the Kings used to do?
Did I want to know that answer?
No.
“Keep going,” Dash ordered Genevieve.
She nodded, her grip on my hand tightening. “I backed away, wanting to get the hell out of there. But as I turned, this guy came up from the basement. He was in a daze. His eyes were glassy. He was high as a goddamn kite.”
“Maybe those drugs were the Warriors’ personal stash,” Emmett muttered. “And he was assigned to watch over them.”
Draven leaned forward, his eyes glued to Genevieve. “What happened next?”
“He smiled at me.” She shivered. “He said, ‘Looks like the boys sent me a present.’ And then he came at me. He tried to kiss me. He licked my cheek. He put his hands all over me.”
I clenched my jaw, not wanting to think about it.
“I fought him off as best I could,” she said. “I tried to run for the door, but he was strong and I’d been in a trunk and tied up beside a tree all night. I was exhausted. He grabbed me and ripped at my shirt.”
The other men in the room sat stiff. Bryce gasped, sad eyes and pain etched on her face.
While she’d run from their kidnapper into Dash’s arms, Genevieve had run from one hell to another.
“He would have raped me.” Genevieve swallowed hard. “Probably killed me too. He punched me in the stomach and told me to stop fighting. It knocked the wind out of me and I collapsed.”
That’s how I’d found her. With a man pinning her to the floor, tearing at her clothes. He’d gotten her pants off past her hips. Her panties too. She’d been bare, exposed and helpless.
I’d only caught a glimpse of Genevieve as she’d run toward that cabin and it had been from behind. The first sight of her face—in person—had been on that floor.
I’d never forget the look on her face, the sheer terror as she gasped for breath, all while her bare ass writhed on a dirty floor because she was trying to get her most precious place away from a man who had no right to touch it.
“I ripped him off her,” I told the room, trying to block out the image of her.
So far, I’d been able to keep that image locked down tight. I did my best to never think of the cabin. Now that we were airing our secrets, would I have a new nightmare tonight? Instead of Genevieve dying in the passenger seat of a car, would I see her on that dirty fucking floor?
“I hit him a few times, tried to keep him down, but he kept coming.” The guy had gotten a few hits in of his own, mostly to my ribs. Nothing broken, but they’d hurt for a couple days. So had my hands from punching him.
“Did you kill him?” Dash asked.
“Yes.” The word hung in the air. “He was in a blind rage. Had to be the drugs. I knocked him down and got my hands around his throat.”
Then I’d strangled him.
When his arms and legs had fallen limp to the floor, I’d stopped.