Chapter 14
The cool evening air prickles my heated skin as I burst out of the stuffy barn. It’s dark out and I’m thankful there’s no one around because with the level of rage coursing through my veins, I daresay not even Mother Theresa would be safe from me should she pop up from behind my truck.
It rolls off me in waves, my body physically vibrating and if I was a kid’s cartoon, I’d have steam billowing out of my ears, I’m sure.
I slam my fists down on the hood of my truck as a torrent of memories I’ve buried down deep resurface, hitting me like a tsunami as they flash through my mind.
Memories from a day that changed the course of my life forever.
I’m that seventeen-year-old kid again, innocent and totally out of his depth, standing with the solid brass lamp from the sideboard clutched tightly in my fist, covered in blood.
Images of that man towering above her on the sofa, pinning her down flash through my mind.
The clothes strewn across the living room floor.
Her slurred drunken words that pleaded for him to stop, her hands pushing at him weakly.
The sound of the crack the lamp made against that fucker’s skull snaps me back to reality as I punch through the driver’s side window of my truck, the glass shattering into thousands of tiny pieces.
“Killian!” I hear from behind me and through the glaze of unshed tears in my eyes, I find Kaia standing a few metres away, the unmistakable flicker of fear in her eyes.
Is it bad that I’d completely forgotten she was here? I wasn’t even thinking when I stormed out of the barn. I was in a haze, a rage-filled haze and it’s ironic because the very reason I’m standing here right now is because of her.
“What the fuck happened to stay in the truck?” I seethe.
“I told you that wasn’t going to cut it. Who the hell do you think you are ordering me around. I’m not a dog! And let’s not forget who brought who here. What the hell was that back there?”
“You’re so…”
“Go ahead, finish that sentence. I’m so… What?”
“Stubborn! So goddamn infuriating! I told you this wasn’t the place for you and you still chose to ignore me. Thanks for proving me right.”
She cracks me across the face with her hand.
“Fuck you, Killian! I didn’t know what would happen in there!
You think I went in there on the off-chance some creepy assholes might spot me and try to cop a feel?
You think I wanted to be sexually assaulted?
Jesus, you’re an even bigger asshole than I thought.
” She takes off in the direction of the dirt track that brought us here.
“Where are you going?” I call after her.
“I don’t care, as long as it’s far away from you!” she shouts back.
Her determined steps eat up the gravelled ground as she nears the narrow path.
“Kaia, wait!”
She ignores me and with no sign of her stopping, I chase after her, and it doesn’t take me long to catch up. I grip her arm and spin her around towards me, a little harsher than I meant to and I release her quickly.
I don’t miss the tremor in her chin as she forces back the urge to cry, the defeat in her tear-filled eyes, and all the anger surging in my veins moments ago fades away.
I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on her, she couldn’t have known what would happen and I feel like the world’s biggest prick to have put tears in her eyes.
I inhale deeply to calm the rapid beat of my heart. “Are you alright? Did they… Did they touch you?” I hate to ask, but I have to know.
She chews on the inside of her cheek before speaking. “The thinner one, he… put his hand down the front of my jeans and…” she trails off, her eyes finding her feet.
She whimpers, her hands reaching for her unbuttoned jeans, the pink lace of her underwear peeking through.
Her hands tremble as she struggles to do up her jeans. I reach forward, covering them with my own before taking over and to my surprise, she lets me fasten her jeans.
“I should go back in there and finish off those fucking assholes.”
“No, you shouldn’t. Beating them to a pulp won’t change anything.”
“It’d make me feel a whole lot better.”
Kaia glances down and her eyes widen. “Oh my god, your hands!”
I follow her gaze to find my knuckles split wide open. Blood oozes from my broken skin, dripping onto the gravel at my feet. “It’s nothing.”
“That’s not nothing!” she exclaims. “You’ll need stitches!”
“It’s really not as bad as it looks, the blood makes it looks worse.”
“Do you have something we can use to wrap them?”
I shrug. “Should be something back in my truck.”
She’s already on the move towards my truck.
I follow her, sliding in behind the wheel as she’s twisting in the passenger seat, rummaging through the pile of stuff I’ve been meaning to clear out for weeks, unable to stop myself from checking out her ass that’s thrust high in the air, directly in my line of sight.
“Oh, wow.” She sits back in her seat and turns to me with a bright pink bra dangling from her fingers. “Don’t tell me, tattooist by day, drag queen by night, am I right?”
Fuck. I didn’t even realise that was back there. I can’t even remember how it got there.
“Babe, if I was a drag queen, you best believe I wouldn’t settle for a B cup.” I pluck the bra dangling from her fingers and stuff it down the side of my seat before turning back to face her. “I’d be a double D at the very least.”
“Are you saying there’s something wrong with small boobs?”
“Not at all, but you’ll soon realise there’s nothing small about me,” I say with a smirk.
Her cheeks flush as she forces her eyes away, doing her best to cover the smile tugging at her mouth.
I clear my throat. “Seriously though, Katie will be made up to have it back… Or was it Rachel…?” I can’t fucking remember. Call me an asshole but all their faces and names just blur into one after a while.
She rolls her eyes before returning to dig through the shit on the back seat before pulling out a box of bandages I keep in my truck.
“Give me one of your hands.” She holds out her palm and I place one of mine in hers. “Do you do this often?” she asks, gently wrapping the bandage around my knuckles.
I shrug. “Not my first rodeo, probably won’t be my last.”
“But why?”
“I needed the money.”
“And you needed the money that badly you’d get into a fight with the Hulk? No amount of money is worth risking your life for.”
“Easy to say coming from someone who’s always had it,” I snap, regretting it as soon as I said it. “Take it you’ve heard about Jack? How he died?”
She nods.
“He was my business partner. One of my best friends. His old lady, Jade is pregnant. We each vowed to do our part and help raise it, to help her out and make sure they both want for nothing. The money was gonna be for her and the kid.”
Her gaze is soft as it lifts to mine, a soft smile on her mouth, like she’s touched by my answer.
She ties off the bandage and switches to my other hand, giving it the same treatment. “Do Myles and the others know you do this?”
“No, and you’re not going to tell them.”
“But surely y—”
“You’re not going to tell them.”
“And how do you plan on explaining your face? Or your knuckles?”
“I’ll say I beat up two assholes who thought they could touch what wasn’t theirs.”
She doesn’t press further as she finishes bandaging up my hands. “You should really see a doctor or something. You’ll probably need stitches, your cuts look pretty deep,” she says.
“You worried about me, butterfly?”
The nickname slips out before I can catch it. Her eyes find mine and instead of the glare I received back at the bar when I first called her that, there’s a softness there as she holds my gaze.
She averts her eyes, reaching down into the foot well for her bag, pulling out a tissue. Leaning forward she begins blotting the cuts to my brow and my lip, wiping away the blood that’s crusting there.
I don’t dare tear my eyes away from her as I watch her work. I couldn’t if I tried. She’s so fucking beautiful, her touch soft and comforting, and despite all the women I’ve indulged in over the years, it’s something I’ve never experienced.
I’m touched by how much she cares despite hating my guts and maybe that tells me more about her character than any of Cruiser’s background checks ever could.
“There. All done.” She goes to shift back into her seat and I do something I’ve never done before.
I reach for her hand before she has the chance to pull away.
I don’t miss the little gasp that passes her lips, her eyes dropping to our clasped hands like she needs to see it to believe it. I enjoy the feel of her soft skin against the rough coarseness of mine. Her hand fits perfectly in mine, like she was made for me.
She lifts her head to meet my eyes, and I find both surprise and confusion swimming in them.
I run the pad of my thumb over the back of her hand. “Thank you.”
Something passes between us, something I’ve never felt before. Something… more.
I rip my hand away, forcing myself to ignore her eyes that linger on me, the confusion, the rejection.
I shove the key into the ignition and start the engine feeling like the world’s biggest asshole.
It’s dark out when we roll back into town and rather than run the risk of her dad seeing me drop her off outside their house, she asks me to pull up on the corner of the street instead.
“Will anyone call the cops?” she asks.
I shake my head. “It was an illegal fight, not a single person should have been there tonight, including us. If anyone goes to the cops, they’ll be implicating themselves.”
“That’s one good thing at least,” she says, gazing out the passenger window.
“I bet on myself tonight,” I confess.
Her head snaps up to me. “You did what? Why would you do something like that?”
“Told you, I needed the money.”
“H—How much did you lose?”
“Put on a grand. If I’d have won, I’d be taking home close to twenty.”
“Twenty grand?” she exclaims wide-eyed. “Oh my God. It’s all my fault.”
“You won’t find me arguing,” I say, though for some reason, I’m no longer angry.
“I’m so sorry.”
I shake my head as my eyes find hers. “Don’t have to apologise.”
“But I’m the reason you forfeited the fight. Why did you do it? There couldn’t have been long left and from what I saw, you were winning. Why not see it through? You would’ve won.”
“I put Dario on the floor and in the split-second he was down, I looked over to find those two assholes all over you. There was no way in hell I was gonna let them hurt you. We both know what would’ve happened.”
She shudders at the thought, and that thought alone is enough to make me drive all the way back there, hunt those fuckers down and make them wish they’d never set eyes on her tonight.
I don’t know where this primal need to protect her came from, but it’s there and I’d be an idiot to try to ignore it.
“You did good. Fighting back. It was brave.”
Her eyes drop to her lap. “I wasn’t strong enough.”
“You kicked a guy twice your size in the junk then glassed the other with a beer bottle, all on your own. That’s pretty fucking epic if you ask me. Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
She laughs at that, and warmth spreads through my chest, noticing the cute little dimples on her cheeks when she smiles.
“I think maybe I was wrong about you,” she says quietly, picking at the edge of her fingernail.
“Yeah?”
She looks across to me with those crystal blue eyes. “Yeah. Maybe you’re not the asshole I thought you were after all.”
And there it is. I can see the walls around her slowly beginning to crumble.
Trust.
The corner of my mouth twitches. “Bet that hurt to say.”
She fights a smile, swatting my bicep with the back of her hand. “Shut up. You’re still an asshole. Just… a smaller one.”
I chuckle.
“And you were right earlier, I am a hypocrite. I let my father’s opinions about you and the club influence mine and I’m sorry.”
“I guess we’re all a product of our parents to some degree.”
“I’d rather die than being anything like mine.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Given who your father is, you haven’t turned out so bad.”
“You really mean that?”
I nod.
She watches me, her eyes searching mine for any hint that I’m lying.
“I’ll uh…” I clear my throat, forcing my eyes out the windshield, breaking whatever the hell that was. “I’ll get one of the prospects at the garage to tow your car in the morning, get it fixed up for you.”
“Thank you. For everything today.”
I hold out my hand. “Give me your phone.”
She hesitates for a moment before pulling her phone out from her bag, unlocks it and places it in my open palm. I add myself as a contact and send myself a quick message so I have her number before handing it back. “Call me if you ever need me, and I’ll always answer. Night or day.”
She narrows her eyes skeptically as she takes her phone from me. “Careful, you’ll have me believing you’re actually a nice guy.”
I only wish I was. “Okay, you caught me, I’m available as a booty call should the need arise.”
She snorts a laugh, and if that isn’t the cutest fucking sound in the world. “And the Killian Hunt I know and loathe is back in the truck.”
I laugh softly.
Pushing open the passenger door, she looks back at me over her shoulder. “Goodnight, Killian.”
“’Night, butterfly.” The nickname slips out so naturally I don’t realise I’ve even said it until it’s out. I don’t know when or why I started calling her that, but it feels weirdly right.
She gives me a small smile before she climbs out of my truck and I sit there idling on the side of the road, waiting until she’s safely inside her house before pulling away.
She doesn’t deserve what you have planned, a tiny voice in my head tells me but I do my best to silence it.
A part of me feels almost bad about using her as collateral damage in my plan, and sure, she doesn’t deserve what I have planned, but at the same time, I didn’t deserve what her father did to me all those years ago.
I have to remind myself of why I’m doing this.
I’m doing this for me and for the future of my club, my family.
I will do anything to protect them.
Anything.