Slowly turning my head, I lay witness to Sully crouching near the bar, and as if I were watching in slow motion, I saw the glass she was holding slip from her grasp and crash to the floor. There had been other noises floating through the air, mainly from some of the men laughing and ragging on each other, mixed with music pumping out of the surrounding speakers. For some reason, though, the glass breaking into tiny shards rang out loud, drawing a few other people’s attention. Marek, Carrillo and Yanez not being a part of them.
Sully’s eyes practically popped out of her beautiful head, her face stark white as if she’d seen a goddamn ghost. She suddenly started shaking, and the weird thing was that she was looking directly at us. Before I even made a move, she bent down and started cleaning up the mess she’d made, but there was something in her body language that put me on full alert.
Fear.
She was fucking riddled with it.
Striding across the open space then approaching her slowly so as not to startle her, I bent down and grabbed the last few pieces of broken glass. Reaching for her hand, I gently helped her to her feet and that’s when I saw it. She’d been crying, her breaths short and choppy as she tried her best to control herself.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, guiding her to sit on one of the empty bar stools. Standing in front of her, I turned around slightly and followed her gaze; when I realized who she was staring at, I frowned. Did she know Carrillo and Yanez?
Internally balking at my own stupid question, I realized she
had
to know them, simply because the Savage Reapers had an ongoing deal with them.
Well, until today, at least. No more.
“That man,” she whispered, averting her eyes to stare at her trembling hands resting in her lap.
“Which one?”
“I can’t be here,” she suddenly declared, trying to rise from the stool but stumbling, the metal legs of her seat screeching across the floor. The noise pierced the air and drew her husband’s attention. Unfortunately, it also drew the attention of our
guests
.
As soon as Sully realized all three men were staring in our direction, she panicked. If I thought her complexion was white before, she looked like she was about to faint, all the blood draining from her face in rapid fashion.
Grabbing her shoulders, I tried to make her focus on me, but she was too lost to whatever was happening inside that head of hers. Shaking her did nothing but irritate my friend, who was briskly walking toward the both of us.
“What the hell is goin’ on?” Marek asked sternly, reaching for his wife’s hand and pulling her close. “What’s wrong, Sully?” He physically had to turn her face so she would look at him; otherwise, her stare was latched on to the two men standing by the door.
“That man . . .” she repeated, her breath leaving her lungs in a desperate attempt to form a noise.
“Which one, sweetheart?” Marek cooed, starting to panic himself because of his wife’s odd behavior. “Tell me what’s wrong. You’re freakin’ me out.” He placed his hands on her upper arms and pulled her in to him, whispering, “You can tell me. It’ll be okay. I’m here. No one’s gonna hurt you.”
“Yanez,” she cried, resting her head against her husband’s chest for support. Or to hide. I couldn’t distinguish which. Maybe it was both.
Something bad was about to be revealed, I knew it deep in my soul, but there was no preparation in the world that could have prepared me for what came flying out of Sully’s mouth. “He . . . He—” she cut off, tears tumbling down her cheeks as she so desperately tried to continue, her entire body shaking in Marek’s embrace.
“He what?” Marek seethed, gritting his teeth because he knew as well as I did that her disclosure was gonna be detrimental. She was visibly terrified, and we realized she wouldn’t react in such a way unless something unspeakable had happened.
Finally connecting her eyes with her husband’s, she whispered, “He raped me.”
If ever I thought I’d seen my best friend enraged before, it was nothing compared to what he showed right then. Fire lit his eyes, his posture locking into place as his muscles coiled. The air around us thickened with deadly tension, the likes of which I’d never experienced before. I would go so far as to say I’d actually seen the pulse in his neck beating furiously, his body’s reaction heightening it quickly. Too quickly. God knew what deadly thoughts were crashing into his brain right then.
Suddenly, Marek locked eyes with me, a desperation I’d never seen before putting me on edge. When I’d received his unspoken plea, I nodded and moved closer to his wife.
It was mere seconds before he was sprinting across the length of space separating us from the one man who was gonna feel the brunt of all his rage.
Reaching the bastard in no time at all, he cocked back his fist and let it fly, connecting with the side of Yanez’s face before anyone saw the assault coming. The man’s head whipped to the side and he instantly lost his balance and tumbled over, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. Marek was on top of him before the man could right himself, continually hitting him in the face. All the while, Marek never said a word, which was the eeriest part of the whole scene. Rage poured from him and onto the man lying beneath him. It was obvious Yanez had no idea why he was being attacked.
Or at least, that’s what I thought.
Until he opened his fucking mouth and essentially sealed his fate.
“Her f-father gave her to m-me,” he garbled, blood dripping from his nose and mouth as he tried to speak, his left eye well on its way to being swollen shut. “It was a fair exchange for doing business.” Although I was clear across the room, I heard every vile thing the man spewed, sickened to my core at what Sully had endured at the hands of not only Yanez, but essentially her father as well. The one person who should have been wired to protect her. The same person who’d thrown her to the wolves. And I was sure it wasn’t the first time.
Sully dropped her head, her hair falling forward and shielding her from the scene unfolding in front of everyone present. The cloak of black gave her some kind of solace, some detachment from reality she so desperately needed. Feeling helpless in all this, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her to me, doing my best to show her we were all there to protect her. She’d come to trust us during her short time with the Knights Corruption, but right then she needed strength more than ever, and I was only too willing to offer it.
Marek managed to get in one final punch before he was hauled off the bastard by Hawke and Trigger. I wanted to be the one to stand next to him, but I knew he would have wanted me to watch over his wife. So I stayed put—for the time being, at least.
The entire time, Carrillo stood back, not saying a word or lifting a finger to try and help his right-hand man. A smug expression danced across his face, and I suspected the head of the cartel had little to no respect for Yanez, his allowing someone else to pummel him all the proof I needed.
Once both men were on their feet, Marek grabbed the gun hidden in his waistband, pulled it free, and pointed it directly at Yanez’s head. There was no tremble in his arm, no hesitation in his stance, just a resoluteness which emanated from his entire body, as if shooting a man dead in the middle of the clubhouse was a normal occurrence. Which it certainly was not.
Sully leaned further into me. I supported her, silently promising her everything was gonna be okay, all while watching my friend threaten a member of the cartel. The very same cartel we’d just broken free from. How would Carrillo feel if Marek killed his second in command? Would he wage war on the Knights? Or would he be elated that we’d rid him of such a vile creature?
I guessed we were about to find out.
“You raped my wife!” Marek roared, stepping closer and pushing the gun hard against Yanez’s temple. Almost immediately, a ragged sob tore free from Sully’s lips, realizing everyone there had just found out what had happened to her. Mortification covered her skin, kissed her cheeks, and took hold of her body. Shaking and borderline hysterical, the only thing I could do was hold her tighter, kissing the top of her head and whispering, “Shhh . . . It’s okay.”
“I didn’t know she was your wife,” the man gritted, spitting blood on the floor after answering. There was no remorse in his tone, or fear on his face. He stood tall and glared at Marek the whole time he had a gun against his head. Yanez knew as well as I did that, if Marek shot him, his boss would be forced to retaliate.
Knowing I needed to step in before the situation escalated beyond control, my eyes darted around the room. “Jagger!” I hollered, seeing the prospect enter from the kitchen. “Get over here. Now.” Once he was close, I carefully guided Sully toward him. “Get her out of here,” I instructed. I knew Marek had a problem with the kid, but it wasn’t the time to worry about such things. Jagger heard the urgency in my voice and didn’t argue, ushering Sully into the kitchen where she would be hidden from whatever was gonna happen next.
Once they were both out of sight, I strode toward my friend, struggling to find the right words which would calm him enough not to do anything rash. But nothing came to mind. I put myself in his shoes. If Addy had told me some fucker had raped her, and that man was standing in front of me, I would have reacted the same way. Actually, the bastard would be dead by now, but that was the difference between me and Marek, which was why he was the president and I wasn’t. He had more control than I did, even though he was teetering on the brink right then.
“Don’t do anything stupid, man,” I whispered in his ear. His rage was contagious, and it was hyping me up as well. Nothing good was gonna come of the situation if both of us wanted blood.
All of a sudden, Carrillo spoke up. “Marek,” he warned. “If you take out my second in command, then you leave me no choice but to take out yours.” The words were threatening, but the man’s demeanor was anything but. The fucker was smiling at us, as if he were discussing the weather.
“He deserves to die,” Marek argued. “He raped my
wife
.”
Turning his head toward his man, Carrillo asked, “When did this happen, Yanez?”
“A few months ago,” he replied, wiping his bloody mouth with the back of his hand.
Focusing back on Marek, the head of the cartel asked, “Was she your wife then?”
Silence was the initial answer, my friend trying to figure out what to say next. Truth was, the answer was no; it happened before we’d even snatched Sully. Which apparently had been the right move, because it hit home right then just how much the woman had been abused.
“Was she your wife at that time, Marek?” Carrillo asked again, taking a step closer to crowd my friend’s personal space.
“No, she wasn’t. But it doesn’t matter. He has to die.” His focus was rigid, and I feared he was gonna pull the trigger, putting us all in grave danger with such a rash, knee-jerk reaction. Like I said, the bastard would have been dead if Addy had been the one who’d been violated. But Marek was more levelheaded than I was, and right then I prayed for him to remain somewhat calm and eventually back away without bringing the axe down on all our heads.
“No, he doesn’t. While I don’t condone what he did, you cannot exact revenge on him because he mistreated a woman you didn’t even know at the time.” Carrillo’s words were calm but his tone was borderline deadly, realizing the possibility of a war erupting.
Placing my hand on Marek’s shoulder, I leaned in and urged him to put the gun down. “Don’t do this. Not right now. Sully needs you. Save it for another time.” His breaths were still ragged from exertion, but he heard my words. What I’d said flipped some switch inside him enough to withdraw his weapon from the man’s head.
“This isn’t over, Yanez,” Marek growled. “Now get the fuck out of my club.”
Both men disappeared from the clubhouse, Carrillo glancing back at Marek with a look in his eyes which was something akin to an apology.
Adelaide
“Are you ever going to learn, Tripp?” I asked, laughing and gently hitting him on the arm. The man was something else, his prior wounds doing nothing to change his demeanor or attitude. If anything, he probably thought he was invincible. But I guessed being shot four times and surviving would make anyone think they were untouchable.