Chapter Six
Darby
Three days locked up in the Kiss of Death compound and I’d had enough.
To be fair, it wasn’t only me. The guys had all the women of the club on lockdown, from the old ladies (a term I’d found out was same as being the wife of one of the bikers), to the club whores.
I admit the latter had my back up for a whole couple of hours, but I’d decided there were a few of the whores who weren’t too bad.
You just had to set boundaries with your man.
Despite the good company and appreciating Sully wanting to keep me safe after the whole Jenkins incident, rules never sat well with me.
They itched like a tag on new clothes, constantly reminding me they were there, constantly begging to be cut out.
I watched the gate from my perch on the second-floor balcony of the warehouse that housed Sully’s apartment, counting the minutes until I could slip through it unnoticed.
The compound wasn’t a prison. Not technically.
I could leave whenever I wanted; Sully had made that clear.
I just couldn’t leave alone. Someone had to be with me at all times.
For protection, he said. Because of who my father was and because he’d announced rather loudly around the city that I was his daughter when he’d been frantically looking for me, assuming he wasn’t full of shit.
I still wasn’t sure how much I believed the guy.
Admittedly, though, Tonio Miles wasn’t pinging my bullshit radar.
He’d come to the compound every evening.
Just… hanging out. Sometimes he’d approach me.
Sometimes I’d even talk to him. It was hard to admit, but I was actually coming to really like the guy.
Both he and Sully assured me that, once they were sure no one else was gunning for me, I could do whatever the fuck I wanted.
I had the feeling they were trying to give me a false sense of security because I couldn’t see either of those men letting me be vulnerable in any way.
I’d already put my lot in with Sully, but Tonio Miles was worming his way under my skin too.
I grabbed my jacket and the small purse containing the credit card Tonio had given me before I’d run away from his house. He’d called it an emergency fund. I called it guilt money. Either way, shopping!
Getting through the gate was almost too easy. I waited until the guard turned to check something on a clipboard, then walked straight through like I belonged there, like I wasn’t breaking Sully’s number one rule. No one stopped me. No one even noticed.
The late afternoon sun felt glorious on my skin as I jogged down the trail away from the compound until I found a motorcycle parked on the sidewalk.
I was pretty sure it was Ranger’s. He liked to stop by and see the woman who worked in one of the security offices nearer the dock.
When he did, he parked in this area. I got the feeling he didn’t want her knowing he rode a bike or something.
Not my business. What was my business was his bike.
I needed wheels. The club provided. I’d apologize later.
Thankfully, Ranger often left the keys with his bike. Knight had them all jacked so it wasn’t like he couldn’t find it with one phone call. Besides, with all the shopping I planned on doing with Daddy’s credit card, I’d need a ride home anyway.
I ended up at The Mall at Green Hills. Normally it was the kind of place where I’d be on the lookout for people with more money than good sense and seeing what I could grift from them. Instead, I entered a shop with a smile and started doing my worst.
The first shop was all about jeans and T-shirts.
I only chose the really expensive ones, because credit card abuse is fun when it’s not your money.
After that, I bought some stuff for Sully’s room.
And some equipment for the kitchen. There were enough women in the compound who loved to bake and cook; they needed a kitchen upgrade.
Also, I think the new bedroom suite I got for me and Sully was a bit much for the small apartment, but I’m sure someone could use it. ‘Cause, you know. Not my money.
It wasn’t until I noticed the lengthening shadows that I realized how much time had passed.
Sully would be looking for me by now. In fact, I figured by the time I had all the shit I’d bought brought to the mall entrance, someone would be pulling up next to the bike.
The thought sent a jolt of excitement through me.
‘Cause honestly. I’d been very naughty today.
I’d made arrangements for everything to be brought to the front of the store.
Who knew mall concierge was a thing? Might have something to do with the obscene amount of money I’d spent.
I’d honestly expected the card to be declined at any point along the way, and had been gleefully looking forward to the explosion because there was no way Tonio wouldn’t get a notification when the card started loading up.
Instead of waiting for the guys to arrive, I tipped the concierge a hundred bucks to stay with my shit until a bunch of guys on motorcycles and a big-ass trailer for the bike pulled up.
I’d moved Ranger’s bike to the curb and handed the concierge the keys, then headed back inside.
I saw a leather store I wanted to do some inventory damage to before the guys dragged me back to the compound.
The store was in an out of the way corner of the mall because it was that kind of leather store. As I turned the corner to a darker area of the facility, a man stepped into my path, his face hidden beneath the hood of a dark sweatshirt. The dim light caught the gleam of a knife.
“I knew it was only a matter of time until you gave those big fuckers the slip.”
I stopped, tensing for a fight I hadn’t planned on. But then, I never did plan well. Which was my whole problem.
“You know who I am?” The man pushed his hood back, revealing a face twisted with rage.
“My buddy Ray died yesterday. Hospital said his skull was fractured in that bar. Doctors said he might have lived if someone got him help sooner, but everyone was too busy with the other fight.” He stepped closer, the knife glinting in the fading light. “The fight you started, bitch.”
The name Ray meant nothing to me, but the accusation did.
One of Jenkins’ crew must have died after the brawl at Throttle.
I hadn’t even known how many men were involved in that fight, had only focused on the immediate threats.
Someone had gotten hurt worse than I realized, and now his friend wanted revenge.
Living on my own since I was sixteen, the streets had taught me how to fight. I wasn’t going down without making this bastard bleed.
“Back off,” I warned, voice steady despite the adrenaline flooding my system. “I didn’t kill your friend.”
“You started the fight that got him killed. Same thing.”
“He started that fight. I haven’t started a fight at Throttle for at least a month.” That was the stupidest thing I could have said, but there it was. Something else I had a talent for was not keeping my mouth shut.
He lunged forward, knife slashing in a wide arc toward my face. I ducked under his arm and drove my elbow into his ribs, feeling a satisfying crack as I connected. He grunted but didn’t drop the knife. I spun away before he could recover, creating distance between us.
“Ray was just doing a job,” he snarled, circling me like a predator. “Looking to get paid, that’s all. Nothing personal until you and your boyfriend got involved.”
“Hunting women for money is plenty fucking personal,” I shot back, watching his movements for tells. The way he favored his right side told me where to hit next. “Especially when I’m the one being hunted!”
He came at me again, faster this time. I blocked his knife hand with my forearm, pain lancing up my arm as the blade sliced through my jacket and into skin. Warm blood trickled down my wrist, but I ignored it, driving my knee up between his legs with all the force I could muster.
He doubled over, gasping, and I seized the opportunity to slam my fist into his throat. Normal people might have gone down then, but this guy was running on pure hatred. Even as he choked and sputtered, he grabbed my ankle and yanked, sending me crashing to the floor.
My head bounced and stars exploded behind my eyes. I rolled instinctively, narrowly avoiding the knife as it hit the spot where my chest had been a moment before.
I scrambled to my feet and stumbled for the exit. There were several people who’d stopped to either watch, film, or had phones to their ears. I hoped at least one person in the fucking place had the decency to call nine-one-one.
I sprinted out the door and across the road to the parking garage next to the mall. I made it to the second level before the guy caught me, diving for my legs to tackle me to the concrete. I kicked out, scrambling to my feet. I tasted blood where I’d bitten my tongue in the fall.
He charged me with a roar. I sidestepped at the last moment, grabbing his knife arm and using his momentum to slam him face first into the concrete wall. I heard a scream and people shouting but didn’t dare take my concentration off the bastard in front of me.
Even injured, he outweighed me by at least seventy pounds. When he turned from the wall, blood streaming down his face, his eyes held the mindless rage of a wounded animal. Before I could react, he tackled me, driving us both to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
The impact knocked the wind from my lungs. I gasped for air that wouldn’t come, panic rising as he straddled my chest, his weight crushing me into the concrete. My vision tunneled, black edges creeping in as I struggled to breathe.
“You’re gonna die slow, you little bitch,” he promised, his blood dripping onto my face as he leaned close. “Gonna make you beg first.”