Chapter 4
Fuse
We blew into the clubhouse eager to get out of the chill night air. When she came to a stop just inside the door I put my hand on the small of her back and eased her forward, so I could close the door. She stepped away from my hand, and I couldn’t blame her for not wanting me anywhere near her.
I looked around in an attempt to see what her first impression might be.
Of course, the lighting was bright, which highlighted all the flaws, especially considering the bar area was empty, save for a bunch of club girls, and the prospects that had been tasked with holding down the fort.
The club girls were scattered around the room, several at a high top table in the corner, three sitting at the bar and a couple curled up in recliners.
Almost all of them had a drink in their hands.
In addition to the prospects at the front gate, and the three patrolling the grounds at any given time, there were three positioned around the room making sure everyone was following the rules.
I murmured, “Don’t worry, we might look like a rough bunch, but we don’t bite.”
She didn’t look at me, but I saw her hands flex into fists at her sides.
Her cold behavior drove home the fact that she didn’t like me or trust me.
I didn’t blame her one little bit. In her eyes, I was the asshole who bought her from another dude.
In her eyes we’ were probably equal parts evil.
So, I redoubled my efforts to put her at ease.
“You’re under my protection now. Nobody here will dare lay a hand on you because they know that I’ll beat their ass.”
Her eyes drifted from me, looking around the room again. She eventually gave a small nod. I took that to mean she would follow where I led. Any fool could tell she was worried, scared, and a little angry.
“You wanna tell me what your real name is, darlin’?” I asked. I realized that was something that Viper never told us.
“Winter,” she answered quietly.
For some reason, the name suited her, with her ice blonde hair and eyes the blue of a frosty morning. “No one’s gonna hurt you here, Winter. I promise you that.”
I don’t think my words registered, as she still kept glancing around the room nervously.
As for me, my own adrenaline was still riding high from what went down at the rally.
As un-fucking-believable as it was, I’d bid in a human trafficking auction.
I was trying to do a good deed but just ended up dragging my club into a shitty situation.
I’d be lying if I said this situation didn’t suck.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down.
I stepped forward and thankfully she followed, keeping some distance between us.
Rosie was behind the bar tonight, as she often was when we were short staffed. She was Thunder’s old lady, and he stayed behind at the rally to help Storm network. When Rosie caught sight of me, her face it up.
“You want a drink? Maybe a whiskey to stave off the chill.”
“Not right now,” I said. “Thanks, though.”
The prospects nodded one by one, showing respect. Their eyes slid past me to Winter and sharpened with curiosity.
“Evening, brother. I heard the rally was a brain fuck this year.”
I jerked my chin, side-eyeing Winter in a subtle bid for him to shut the fuck up about that shit right in front of her.
“Yeah, PATCH always is. Do you guys have the perimeter locked down?”
“Yes, brother. Rest easy tonight. Ain’t nobody getting in or out without us having eyes on.”
That’s when I glanced over to see Winter trying to make herself look more presentable.
She was straightening her clothing, trying to tug together torn edges to more fully cover her body.
A tear at one shoulder showed too much skin.
The poor girl was lookin’ pretty rough with dirt, scratches, and dried blood on her skin.
She looked too damn vulnerable with bruises and torn clothing.
I felt like an ass for not realizing that she needed a shower and some clean clothing. This woman had been through too much lately. She needed her protector to step up his game and take better care of her.
After the prospect walked off, I told her, “We’ve got a room upstairs you can use. We can get you some clean clothes from our reserves. The door locks, so you can grab a shower and take a minute for yourself. There ain’t no rush.”
Her head snapped up, and her dispirited expression turned hopeful. “Really? I would love that. I’ve been in these clothes for days.”
“I understand,” I said. “Viper was an ass to you. We’re a different breed here at the Slayers’ clubhouse.”
Her expression made her look doubtful, but she quickly got over it. “Thank you. I appreciate it more than you know.”
“Follow me,” I said, finally feeling like I was doing something right.
I kept my pace slow as we walked upstairs.
She stayed a step behind me, again just out of arm’s reach.
I got that she was being deliberately cautious because of the beating she took from Viper.
I was gonna beat the fucker senseless for that one day, and nothin’ and nobody was gonna stand in my fuckin’ way.
“We have suites up here,” I explained quietly, keeping my voice steady and nonthreatening. “We use them for officers and guests. Brothers and prospects don’t come up unless they’ve got a reason.”
She didn’t respond, but she was listening to every word I had to say. That was more than I expected after everything she’d been through today.
“Club girls aren’t allowed up here at all,” I added. “This floor is private space. Every door locks from the inside,” I continued. “Nobody comes through without knocking. Not even me.”
That last bit earned me a side glance. A hint of suspicion jumped onto her face. After buying her the way I did, there was always going to be a trust issue. I hoped that we could overcome it eventually.
I took her to the supply closet upstairs to take a look at what we had in the way of clothing.
The club had helped so many vulnerable women and children in the past that it made sense to keep a stash of things that people might need after they’d left a traumatic situation.
Clean clothes did a huge amount to repair dignity when it’d been stripped away.
“The old ladies keep this closet stocked,” I told her. “Everyone who needs something to wear comes here and grabs what they need.”
“Are you sure no one will mind?” She asked, her voice quivering.
“Of course not. That’s what it’s here for.”
She quickly picked through the stacks, picking out a set of clothes from the inside out. Her fingers lingered over a gray sweater.
Unsure what she was waiting for, I encouraged her, “You can take whatever you need,” I said. “Come back as often as you need to. We’ll take you shopping soon and stock you up on clothing of your own.”
The next stop was her room where I explained, “The suites here are pretty simple. Each one has a private bathroom. It ain’t much to look at but it’s all yours,” I told her.
“Thank you again,” she said tightly.
“Lock the door behind you, take your time and when you’re finished, I’ll grab us some dinner. The prospects here have a grill set up twice a day, for breakfast and dinner.”
She moved inside without hesitation, saying over her shoulder, “I won’t be long.”
I took that to mean that she was hungry.
The door closed between us, and a second later, I heard the lock snick into place.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door.
The tension that had been riding me since the auction finally loosened enough to breathe.
I realized that I was in the fuckin’ weeds and didn’t know a fuckin’ thing about taking care of an abused woman.
I pulled my phone out and opened my messages. I texted Celt and he answered right away.
Celt: You good? How’s the lassie settling in?
Me: I got her settled in a suite. She’s cleaning up now.
Celt: Then why are you texting me when you should be taking a breather yourself?
My thumbs flew across the keypad.
Me: She’s scared, jumpy, and angry. And I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. You got experience with traumatized women. I need some advice, brother.
The typing dots appeared, then vanished, then came back again.
Celt: Grace was worse when I found her. First thing you need to do is find her something to do. Don’t leave her sitting alone thinking about all the bad shit those fuckers did to her. It’ll eat her alive.
I leaned back against the wall, reading his text and thinking about what I could do to help her fill her days.
Me: Do you have any ideas?
Celt: Maybe a job of some sort, where she can earn her own money. But make sure she knows it’s her choice and you’re not making her do it. We’re looking for a bartender right now.
I glanced back at the closed door.
Me: This is a fucking great idea. Winter needs something she can control.
Celt: Thank me later, brother. I gotta go, I’ve got an incoming call.
I slipped the phone into my pocket and stood there in the quiet hallway.
The only sound was water running through the pipes in the ceiling, feeding the shower she was using.
The more I thought about this idea the more it felt like the right answer.
It not only gave her some control over her life, it would help her fit into club culture and give her an income.
This bar job would do until something better came along.
***
Half an hour later, she stepped out of the room, looking more beautiful than ever. Her hair was freshly washed and pulled back at the nape of her neck. My face froze when I saw the extent of her injuries for the first time. Forcing my voice to sound casual, I asked, “Are you ready to eat?”
She gave me a short nod. “Yeah, I haven’t had a bite all day.”
I wanted to curse under my breath, but I held it together, making a mental note to add an extra beat down when I faced off with Viper.