Kincaid: Cerberus Mc Book 1 (4 page)

We watched each other for hours last night. Without saying a word, we kept our focus on the other. She has no reason to trust me and the same goes for me trusting her, but I’ll be damned if I walk away and not make sure this woman is safe.

Her eyes grew heavy about four in the morning, and eventually, they fluttered shut. I set my cell phone to silent and communicated with Shadow in the quiet of the night, making sure to leave the brightness on my phone low so I wouldn’t disturb her fitful sleep.

I only got about an hour of sleep myself, keeping watch for her since I know she didn’t fall asleep by choice. We’re safe. Kid has been out in the truck all night watching the door, and I have no reason to even suspect that her douchebag of a husband would have any clue where to find us, but diligence is always a priority.

When she jumped on my bike last night I had no plan, which is saying something because I’m a planner. I plan out every aspect of my life. The Marines drilled in my head that it’s best to have more than one plan, and to never go off half-cocked with no plan at all.

I got the wild idea last night that I should try to convince her to go back to New Mexico with us. I can help her get on her feet, or possibly help her find family if she has any. I know I don't want to leave this town with her in the wind and no way to make sure she’s safe. I don’t know how amenable she will be to the idea. After some rest, she may decide it’s best to go back to her husband. I’d do my best to convince her otherwise, but in the end, she’s a grown woman who has to make up her own mind.

I hear her whimper in her sleep as she rolls over in the bed. I unfold myself from the hard-ass chair I’ve been in all night and make my way over to the bed. In her fitful sleep, the blankets have fallen down past her hips and her shirt has pulled up a bit. I cringe when I see the thick elastic bandage wrapped around her ribs. Unfortunately, it’s a sight I grew all too familiar with as a child.

My insistence for her to leave with us is renewed at the sight, and I leave the room. In my frustration over her situation, I close the door harder than I’d anticipated. I knock on the door immediately to my left, hearing Shadow grumble and cuss.

“I thought you said noon?” He says groggily opening the door for me to step inside with him.

“She’s still asleep. I had to get out of there for a bit.” I plop down in the identical chair from my room, hating the feel of its familiarity against my back. “You get what I asked for?”

He sits on the edge of the bed and runs rough hands over his face. Cracking his neck in both directions, he points toward the dresser where a couple of bags sit along with a small, black purse.

“Thanks, man.” I lean back in the chair and close my eyes for a minute.

“You gonna tell me what the fuck happened last night, or are you gonna make me guess?” His voice is serious enough that I open my eyes and tilt my head toward him. He knows me better than anyone else in the club. He’s well aware how out of character this is for me.

“That waitress,” I begin.

“Emmalyn,” he says.

I nod. “I was meeting up with that redhead to head to the back, and I saw her piece of shit husband hit her in the face.”

“Fuck,” he says and runs his hand down his face again. “I saw him after. I could tell by his face that you didn’t take it very well.”

I huff. “You know how I feel about that kind of shit.”

He nods in understanding.

“I’m going to see if she’ll come back to the clubhouse with us.” I look over at him to gauge his reaction.

True to normal Shadow form he just gives me a small smirk and nods his head.

“She can’t ride, though. She’ll have to stay in the van with Kid.” I stand from the chair and make my way over to the dresser where the Target bags sit.

“You think she’d rather be in the van with Kid than at your back?”

“She’s all bandaged up.” I make a wrapping motion with my hand around my ribs. “That fucker probably broke her ribs. She could hardly make the few miles from the bar last night.”

The sound of him cracking his knuckles draws my attention from the bags. “Want us to pay him a visit before we leave town?”

“I appreciate that Shadow, I really do, but I think it’s best if we just get her out of town.” I scoop the bags up in my arms and head toward the door. “I haven’t even asked her yet. I’ll let you know what the plan is.” I open his door but turn back to him. “Get with Wrench and have him get everyone breakfast. We’re going to ride in a couple hours, and I have no intentions of stopping until we get back into New Mexico.”

Making my way back into the room I barely slept in last night, I notice the bed is empty. I can hear the shower running from the bathroom. I tap on the door gently, but she doesn’t respond. I try the doorknob, and it turns. I push the door open a few inches.

“Emmalyn?” I hear her gasp.

“What are you doing in here?” Her voice is slightly frantic.

“I knocked, but you didn’t answer. I had Shadow grab some things for you last night. There should be a change of clothes in here and some shampoo and other girly shit. I have your purse here also.”

“Umm… thanks,” she mumbles.

“I’m just going to leave it here on the counter for you. I’m locking the bathroom door behind me.” I step in far enough to set the things down on the counter and do as I told her I would. After locking the door behind me, I collapse on the bed, exhausted.

***

A loud banging pulls me from unconsciousness. I groan as I roll over on the bed. Looking up, I see Emmalyn with her knees to her chest and her head resting on top.

“Kincaid!” I hear Shadow yell from the other side of the door.

I slowly get off the bed. I’m fixing to ask her why she didn’t open the door, but I notice the tremble in her body as her eyes dart from me and back to the door.

“It’s just Shadow, sweetheart. You can trust him.” She nods but doesn’t look like she believes me. “I trust him with my life; you can trust him with yours.”

The knocking comes even louder this time.

“Coming,” I say loudly.

I pull the door open once I reach it. Shadow’s frustrated face falls when he looks past me and sees Emmalyn wrapped around herself in the chair.

“I fell asleep.” I pat my pockets realizing my phone is across the room. “What time is it?”

“Almost one.”

“Fuck,” I groan. “Let me talk to her,” I say softly. “You guys hold tight.”

I close the door behind me. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” I ask making my way back to the bed where my phone is lying.

I see several missed texts. I didn’t turn the ringer back on from last night.

“You looked tired,” she says weakly.

“I appreciate it, Emmalyn. I’d planned on riding out before noon.” I grab my boots off of the floor and sit back on the bed and begin putting them on.

“I didn’t know,” she says softly. It sounds more like an apology. It crushes me that she thinks she has to apologize to me for letting me take a nap. He did this to her. I don’t even want to think what the outcome would be in their household had it happened there.

“No big deal. Just means we’ll get a little later start.” I begin to lace up my boots.

“You’re leaving?”

I cut my eyes back to her. “We’re going home.” I want to smile when I see her face fall fractionally, but I restrain myself. “We’re here in Denver to help my cousin, but we’re done. Heading back to Farmington, New Mexico.”

She’s silent, so I look up at her. She doesn’t say anything, just watches me. I imagine her mind is racing with my news.

“Wanna go with us?” I shoot for nonchalance and hope that she believes I just came up with the idea on the spot.

“I don’t know anybody in New Mexico,” she whispers against her knees.

“That makes it perfect then doesn’t it? New starts are always best when you’re anonymous.” I wink at her and stand. “Besides, you know me. I’m a good listener if you’re lonely.”

I see her eyes brighten marginally, but she doesn’t fully commit emotionally. “Just leave?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Just leave.”

She lowers her legs to the floor and stands. “Okay,” she says with a mild shoulder lift. “I’ll just leave.”

“Full disclosure?” Her small smile fades. “I know your ribs are injured, and there’s no way you can ride for seven plus hours on the back of my bike. Kid is in the van with all of our gear and you’ll be more comfortable in there with him on the way back.”

“Not with that Wrench guy?” She asks.
Smart girl
.

“No. Wrench will be on his bike and Kid is harmless.”

She nods in agreement and begins to gather the things from last night. Even in the sweats and loose t-shirt that Shadow grabbed last night, her beauty couldn’t be hidden. It’s not until I pull open the door and we walk out into the sunlight do I get the full effect of what that piece of shit has been doing to her.

The shower washed away the layers of makeup she had on last night and multiple attacks are evident on her face in the form of bruises in different stages of healing; the most recent being on the apple of her left cheek. The sight of the blue and purple mark makes me want to reconsider Shadow’s offer to pay the fucker a visit.

“We can swing by your house to grab some of your things if you want.” My offer has more than one intention, and I see Shadow and Kid perk up at my words.

“Please, no,” she begs and tilts her head slightly, so her hair covers part of her face; a move I’m certain she’s perfected from years of abuse.

Both of the guys faces fall at her rejection of my offer, and I‘m right there with them.

“Okay,” I tell her. “Then let’s head to Farmington.”

Every time I try to tell myself that this is the craziest situation I’ve ever been in, my brain reminds me that I’ve spent years with a man whose favorite pastime is to beat the shit out of me and make me feel like it’s my fault. Years of walking on eggshells. Years of second guessing each and every action I take; monitoring each and every word that comes out of my mouth. Knowing that in the end, it wouldn’t matter, and he’d still hurt me.

Climbing into a van filled with a biker, one I have no clue what his actual name is, and half a dozen black duffle bags pales in comparison to the insanity I’ve been living in.

“Thank you, Diego.” He’s holding the door to the van open for me as I sit down in the front seat.

He doesn’t say anything for a long minute but just looks at my face. A face I know is battered and bruised and not easy for even me to look at, so I can only imagine what he feels when he sees me.

“What?” I finally manage to whisper after attempting to get my hair to fall back over my face.

I shift my face back a few inches and away from his hand as he slowly reaches up and shifts my hair back over my shoulder. “I like you calling me Diego. Not many people do.”

“Would you prefer Kincaid?” I dart my eyes back and forth to his, looking for the minute he changes.

His thumb traces the bruise Bobby gave me before work last night, causing my lip to tremble at the memory. “I like the way Diego sounds coming from your lips.” His voice is husky and betrays the interest he’s been attempting to hide since we first saw each other in the bar last night.

He clears his throat roughly and takes a step back removing his hand from my skin. “Kid grabbed you some food for the first half of the trip, and we’ll stop for dinner once we cross the state line. Do you need anything else before we hit the road?”

I shake my head no and look forward as he gently shuts the door. He’s being very tender, something I’d never expect from a biker, something I’m not very familiar with. I don’t know how to respond. At this point in my life, I have no idea the direction my life will take. I have no plans. Hell, I have no ability to plan anything at this point. Other than Diego, I have no clue what New Mexico holds.

I have no desire to reach out to my aunt. I deserted them long ago, and the shame I feel over that is enough to keep me away for good. What I do know is that I never want to see Robert Mikaelson again, and I’m hoping that with Diego’s help I can make that a reality.

Diego and Shadow pull out of the parking lot first. We leave behind them, and I see Wrench in the side mirror behind us. The protective feel of having the motorcycles in front and behind us once again makes me wonder what’s in the bags in the back. I’m not going to ask; rather I send up a silent prayer that if these guys are hauling drugs, we make it to where ever we’re heading without interruption of the police. As the saying goes, beggars can’t be choosers, and I’m well aware these guys are my only hope if I want to rid myself of Bobby permanently.