Chapter Four #3
Knight nodded grimly. “This one.” He pointed at Jenkins, who lay groaning on the floor, blood still pouring from his nose. “I want to know who sent them and why they’re so interested in our girl here.”
“I’m not your girl,” Darby muttered, but there was no heat behind her words. She looked pale, her breathing still shallow as she leaned against the bar. I kept my arm around her waist, supporting more of her weight than I think she wanted to admit.
“You are,” I countered softly. “Whether you like it or not.”
Mike came around from behind the bar, shotgun still in hand but pointed at the floor. “You know I gotta call the cops eventually.”
Knight nodded. “Give us fifteen minutes. When they get here, tell ‘em these guys came in looking for trouble and got more than they bargained for. Self-defense, clear as day.”
“And the one you’re taking?”
“What one?” Knight asked innocently, his tattooed face impassive.
Mike barked out a laugh, scrubbing a hand over his face but nodded. “Fifteen minutes. Then I’m calling this in.” He looked at Darby. “You really okay going with these guys, darlin’? I can take you to the hospital instead if you want. I’ll protect you.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted, though the way her fingers gripped the edge of the bar told a different story. “Just need to catch my breath.”
I studied her more carefully now that the immediate danger had passed.
The bruise on her cheek had darkened, and dried blood crusted at the corner of her split lip.
She held herself carefully, favoring her right side.
Broken ribs, maybe, or at least badly bruised.
And those were just the injuries I could see.
“Who are these guys, Darby?” I asked quietly, making sure the others couldn’t hear. “And what did they mean about your father?”
She flinched, her eyes darting to Jenkins’ prone form before meeting mine.
“My biological father is Antonio Miles,” she said, her voice flat.
“Biggest crime boss in Nashville. Found out about my existence a few months ago and decided he wanted to play Daddy.” Her laugh was bitter, strained. “I wasn’t interested in the role.”
Antonio Miles. Everyone in Nashville knew the name, even if few had seen the man.
He controlled most of the illegal activity in the city, from drugs to protection rackets.
He was the most influential man in Nashville, under the table, and a man Kiss of Death was very closely associated with.
Also, apparently, he was Darby’s father.
“These guys work for him?”
She shook her head slightly. “Freelancers looking to cash in. Miles has been asking around about me, putting word out he’s looking for me and calling me his daughter, letting everyone know I’m under his protection.
” She grimaced like it tasted foul. “These idiots thought they’d get a finder’s fee if they brought me in.
Though I’m pretty sure the fun they planned to have first wasn’t part of the deal. ”
My hand tightened involuntarily on her waist, and I had to force myself to relax when she winced. “Sorry,” I murmured.
“S’okay,” she said, her eyes growing distant. “Been on the run most of my life. Just didn’t expect…” She trailed off, shaking her head.
“Didn’t expect what?” I pressed gently.
“Didn’t expect to believe in anyone enough to ask them for help,” she admitted, so quietly I almost missed it.
“Darby?” I knew she had to explain now because once she got her feet back under her, she’d be in the wind. “You came here to ask for help?”
“Yeah. It’s how they caught me. I saw you here. Inside the bar. I wanted to come in, but I…” Before she could finish, the rumble of a large engine drew our attention to the front of the bar.
“That’ll be Tiny,” Knight said, moving to peer through the blinds. “Come on.”
I’d only met Tiny a few times since joining Kiss of Death, but the man made an impression.
Nearly seven feet tall and built like a brick shithouse, with hands that looked like they could crush a man’s skull, which, rumor had it, he’d done once.
Despite his intimidating size, he was one of the calmest, most even-tempered men in the club.
Unless someone threatened a woman or child. Then all bets were off.
Knight unlocked the door to let him in. Tiny had to duck to clear the doorframe, his massive form making the bar seem suddenly smaller. His eyes immediately found Darby, narrowing at the sight of her injuries.
“This the girl?” he asked, his deep voice rumbling through the room.
Knight nodded. “Darby, this is Tiny. Our Road Captain and resident gentle giant.”
Tiny’s eyes softened slightly as he approached us, moving with surprising care for a man his size. “Ma’am,” he said, nodding respectfully. “We’ll get you somewhere safe.”
“Thank you,” she replied, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “I appreciate the help.”
Tiny’s gaze hardened as it landed on Jenkins, who was now sitting up, holding a bar rag to his bleeding nose. “This the one who hurt her?”
“One of ‘em,” Knight confirmed. “Want to have a chat with him back at the compound. Figure Tonio Miles will want to know.”
Tiny made a sound low in his throat that reminded me of an angry bear. If he was startled by the mention of Tonio Miles, he didn’t show it. “Van’s out front. We should move before his friends come looking.”
Knight and I hauled Jenkins to his feet. He swayed drunkenly between us, his face a mess of blood and forming bruises. When his eyes focused on Darby, his split lips curved into a sneer.
“Daddy’s gonna find you eventually, bitch,” he slurred through what had to be at least three broken teeth. “Might as well stop running. ‘Sides, I’ve already called for backup.”
Darby straightened, pulling away from the bar and walking toward Jenkins with surprising steadiness given her injuries. She stopped directly in front of him, her eyes cold and hard as she stared up at his battered face.
“Tell me something, Jenkins,” she said, her voice dangerously soft. “Did my father ask you to rape me, or was that your own special touch?”
Jenkins had the audacity to grin, revealing blood-stained teeth. “Man just said he was lookin’ for ya. Didn’t specify to bring you in or what condition you had to be in.”
“That’s what I thought.” Darby leaned forward and spat directly in his face. A mixture of saliva and blood slid down his cheek as he jerked back, eyes widening in shock and rage.
Jenkins wiped it away with his shoulder, his hands still restrained behind his back. “I’ll be seeing you around, bitch,” he growled, straining against our grip.
Darby didn’t flinch. She met his glare with an icy calm that sent a chill down my spine. “The next time you see me will be the last time you see anything.”
The quiet certainty in her voice made even Tiny shift uncomfortably. The threat was a cold promise that hung in the air between them.
“Let’s move,” Knight said, breaking the tension. We half dragged Jenkins toward the door, Tiny leading the way with Darby following close behind me.
Outside, a dark van idled at the curb, its engine a low rumble in the night.
Tiny popped the locks with a remote, then slid open the side door, tossing Jenkins inside where two more brothers secured his hands and feet while Jenkins screamed threats until there was a loud thud. Jenkins didn’t say anything else.
Tiny slid the door shut before smacking the door twice. The van pulled off, made a U-turn, then headed back to the clubhouse.
The Bronco Tiny brought was behind where the van had been parked.
I helped Darby into the back seat, then slid in beside her.
I glanced down and saw she still had her fingers threaded through her brass knuckles and reached for them, slipping them off before she could protest. She didn’t.
Knight took the passenger seat up front.
“Your bike will be at the compound when we get there,” he told me over his shoulder.
“Knuckles is sending Griffin to pick it up.”
Tiny made the same U-turn the van had, heading back to the compound. As we pulled away from Throttle, I noticed Darby sinking deeper into the seat, the adrenaline that had kept her going finally beginning to ebb. Her face had gone from pale to ashen, her breathing becoming more labored.
“Hey,” I said softly, pulling her closer to my side. “Look at me, Darby.”
Her eyes were unfocused, her body trembling slightly under my arm. “Hey.” Her words were slightly slurred, and she was shivering almost uncontrollably.
“How bad is it really?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
She swallowed hard. “Had worse.” Her attempt at a smile faltered. “Just need to rest a bit.”
“We’ll get you looked at when we get to the compound.”
She shook her head slightly. “No doctors.”
“Club’s got someone who can see you,” I assured her. “Trained as an ER doc. No hospitals, no records.”
She had her hand clamped against her side and her breathing was shallow. She was pale but her lips were still pink so she might be hurting, but she wasn’t in immediate danger.
“Almost there,” Tiny called back, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. The concern in them matched my own.
The compound came into view, a series of connected warehouses surrounded by a high fence topped with razor wire. Guards at the gate recognized Tiny’s vehicle immediately, waving us through without stopping us. The Bronco rolled to a stop in the inner courtyard, and Tiny killed the engine.
“Get her inside,” he said. “I’ll take care of our guest.”
I nodded, then turned to Darby. “Can you walk?”
She started to nod, then stopped, honesty winning out over pride. “Not sure.”
Without hesitation, I slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her as gently as I could.
She was lighter than I remembered, her body curling instinctively against my chest as I carried her.
Something that’d been restless inside me for weeks finally settled.
Yes, she was hurt; yes, there were issues.
But Darby was here with me. Where I could keep her safe.
Knight held the door open as I carried her down the path toward the warehouse on the perimeter where my apartment was on the second floor. “I’ll get Pain,” he said, his tattooed face creased with worry. “He’ll come to you and Darby.”
I nodded my thanks, then focused on getting Darby inside.
Her breathing had grown more ragged, her face pressed against my shoulder.
I pushed open my door with my foot and carried her through the darkened apartment to my bedroom, alarmed.
If she couldn’t breathe, I needed to take her to Pain now, not wait for him to come to me.
As I started to lay her carefully on the bed, something in her seemed to break.
The tough exterior she’d maintained through the fight, through the confrontation with Jenkins, through the ride to safety, all of it crumbled at once.
Her shoulders began to shake, silent tears streaming down her face and soaking my shirt.
“Shh,” I murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed holding her carefully against me. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”
Her arms went around my neck, holding on with surprising strength as she finally let go. Sobs racked her small frame, each one causing her to wince in pain but seeming impossible to stop now that the dam had broken.
I held her through it all, my hand stroking her hair, murmuring reassurances against the top of her head.
And as her tears continued to soak my shirt, I made a silent promise that whoever had hurt her in her life, whether it was Jenkins, her father, or anyone else, would pay dearly for every tear, every bruise, every moment of fear she’d endured.
Because somehow, in the space of one night weeks ago, this wild, broken, beautiful woman had become mine to protect. And I would burn the world down before I let anyone hurt her again.