White Heat (Lost Kings MC #5) (30 page)

Hope flashes a tight smile. “If you need something let me or Trinity know.”

My hand shoots out and grabs her arm before she leaves. “I want to take her to the doctor tomorrow. Can you arrange your meeting around that?” I feel horrible even asking. The thought of delaying Rock’s release by even a second churns
my
stomach. I can’t imagine how Hope feels. But she nods. “Sure. We’ll discuss it in the morning.”

“Good night, Mariella.” Hope stops in the doorway. “You’ll be safe here,” she says over her shoulder.

Not that she’s a hostage in her room, or anything, but I let Mariella know I’ll come get her in the morning and show her to the dining room.

I walk Hope down to her room. “You okay with everything?”

She nods, but her bottom lip trembles. “I just want this to work. I need—” her voice breaks and I wrap my arms around her.

“I know. We’ll get him home. Get some rest.”

She pulls back and gives me a weak smile before going inside.

Downstairs, the guys are unwinding, getting drunk, and generally being silly. Wrath holds his arm out to me, and I happily rush over to him and snuggle in his lap. “She okay?” he rumbles against my ear.

“I think so.”

His arms band around my middle and I lean back against him rubbing my forehead against his cheek.

“Aw, you two are so cute, I’m about to puke,” Ravage snarks at us from his seat on the opposite end of the couch. I flip him off and Wrath chuckles.

Swan drops off several bottles of beer. “Shit, Swan, I’ll help you.” Wriggling out of Wrath’s hold is impossible though.

“
I
need you,” he murmurs.

Yup. Those three, simple words, spoken in his low, rumbly voice, do the trick. It may not be official yet, but I’m
Wrath’s
ol’ lady.
His
needs are my only concern now. The reminder brings me peace.

“I’m fine, Trinity,” Swan assures me, before taking a seat between Teller and Ravage.

I must drift off listening to their excited conversations and male bonding stories. The sensation of lifting into the air wakes me. I find myself in Wrath’s arms, being carried to our room. My arms loop around his neck and he smiles down at me.

“You can set me down.”

Insulted, he rolls his eyes. “I got you.”

“Where’d Z put the puppies?”

“In his room for now.”

Seems hard to believe Z would do anything that might interfere with getting laid, but whatever.

In our room, Wrath sets me down and stares at me for a minute. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head the same way you’d try to shake yourself out of an awful memory. “Seen lots of brutality over the years. Fuck, half the time I inflicted it, but that scene—”

“Disturbed you?”

“Yeah.”

My heart flutters at his sincerity. Men like Wrath don’t admit these things easily. That he trusts me enough to share his feelings, means the world. My arms wrap around him and after a minute he hugs me back. “She said her brother was a hangaround who fucked up one too many times.”

“She tell you his name?”

“Eduardo. She said they killed him and kept her for—”

He pushes me back, staring down at me with a hardened expression. “You fuckin’ serious?”

Startled, I back away. “Yes. Why?”

“Eduardo’s the guy who tried to grab you.”

“Really?”

His gaze moves to the door and I grab his shirt to keep him here with me. “I’m glad you got her out safely.”

He snorts. “We almost didn’t make it out.”

I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t.

His hands roam over my back and he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Trin?”

“Yes?”

He hesitates, then jerks his head toward the bathroom. “Nothing. Get ready for bed.”

At the time, Wrath’s words didn’t make a big impact. But bubbling under the surface, my own brutal memories always wait for an excuse to terrorize me. In the middle of the night, I sit up, heart hammering, hair sticking to my sweaty forehead. I haven’t had a single nightmare since Wrath took up permanent residence in my bed. But now I can’t stop the awful images flashing through my mind.

The pale moonlight shining through my curtains throws enough light for me to see him. He calls me angel all the time, but in sleep, with his face relaxed and his bright blond curls, he’s the one who looks angelic. Well, almost. Careful not to wake him, I settle down as close as I can get to him.

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles.

“Nothing. I can’t sleep.”

He holds out one arm without opening his eyes. “Come here.”

Against his big, warm body, I’m finally able to find some peace.

I should have kept my fucking mouth shut.

Trinity didn’t need any details about Mariella’s ordeal. I should have kept that shit to myself.

The next morning, Trin’s pale. Her pretty eyes are ringed with dark circles, and a haunted sadness surrounds her. My fault.

I couldn’t help it. Seeing Mariella at that old fuck’s mercy made me think of Trinity and the crap she’s been through. And I feel like shit about it. She’s a strong girl. A survivor. Not some victim I need to feel sorry for.

As tired as my girl must be, she’s up early calling the clinic to make an appointment for Mariella. The few details she provides earn us a ten a.m. appointment.

“That’s perfect,” Hope says while she and Trinity stand in the doorway making plans. “Damon can’t see her until two. I think he wants to hear the story from her, and then bring her down to the DA’s office.”

The cautious bit of optimism in her eyes guts me. It’s obvious as fuck she doesn’t want to let herself think about Rock coming home yet. We all know there are a million things that could go wrong before he gets released.

One step at a time. Mariella to the doctor. Mariella to the lawyer. Mariella to recant her story. Hopefully it all leads to Rock out of jail.

Hanging around a women’s clinic while the girls do their thing is
not
my idea of a good time. Mariella looks like she wants to go back upstairs and hide under the bed when she realizes I’m the lucky fuck playing bodyguard for them today. I almost consider asking Teller to do it, except I want to spend some time—no matter how awkward—with Trinity.

When we arrive, my girl makes
that face.
The one that makes me do whatever she wants and I grudgingly follow them up the stairs into the waiting room.

For some reason, Mariella follows me over to the row of chairs while Trinity checks her in.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly as she settles into the chair next to me. It’s the first time she’s spoken directly to me all morning.

“For what?”

“This.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

To my utter shock and confusion, Trinity follows Mariella back without an explanation. Fucking great. I can’t decide what to do first: flip through back issues of
Cosmo
or stare at the informative STD posters decorating the walls. Both shrivel my dick.

I end up staring at my phone instead until the opening of the door draws my attention up. Trinity returns way more pale and shaken than she went in, instantly pulling me to my feet.

“Babe, what’s wrong? You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Mariella returns a few minutes later. I settle up the bill with a wad of cash. The receptionist gives me a strange look and I feel like a complete creep. She probably thinks I’m a fucking pimp.

She hands me a receipt and smiles. “You’re a nice boyfriend.”

What now?

The what-the-fuck on my face comes through loud and clear I guess. “The blonde’s your girlfriend, right?”

“Yeah.”

“A lot of guys won’t set foot in here, let alone wait and then take care of the bill.”

“Oh.” Explaining I’m here for protection in case a rival MC tries to kidnap Mariella back from us or hurt my girl, probably won’t go over well. “Thanks,” I answer instead.

Trinity’s no less agitated on the ride home. I feel for Mariella and Hope, honestly I do, but Trinity is my responsibility. I need to get to the bottom of whatever this is, so I turn Mariella over to Teller and Hope, and steer Trinity into our room.

“What’s going on, Angel Face?”

Her mouth stretches into a smile that looks more pained than happy.

“They squeezed me in for an appointment—”

I hadn’t been sure if she went back there with Mariella or for herself. Now I’m fuckin’ worried. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I wanted to talk to the doctor about an IUD.”

“Why didn’t you just say so? What’d she tell you?”

She rolls her eyes. “She said if my partner has a giant dick it might be weird. Would you let me finish?”

I burst out laughing before I figure out if she’s serious or fucking with me. “Continue.”

She sits next to me on the bed, and that’s when I notice her trembling hands. “Trin, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I sort of freaked out during the exam and ended up telling her about…stuff from when I was a kid.”

Jesus.

“Baby, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve never had that happen before. Not…ever since I left home. I’ve had plenty of nightmares over the years.”

“I’m sorry. It’s this shit with Mariella.”

“Yeah, probably. The doctor thought I should see a therapist. Someone who specializes in sexual assault.” She raises an eyebrow as if she’s asking a question. I’m not sure what to say, so I wait. Her gaze lowers to her hands resting in her lap. “What do you think?” she asks quietly.

Christ, her question’s like a knife twisting in my chest. “I want you to do whatever you think you need to do.”

“I want to. I know I’m fucked up, Wyatt. And you’ve been so patient and I,” she stops, tipping her head up and staring at me. “I’d never talk about club business or anything like that.”

“Fuck, babe. I know you wouldn’t. That didn’t even cross my mind.”

“Okay. I just thought...things are so much better now. Between us, I mean. Maybe it would help me be better for you.”

That’s it. I can’t take this. I pull her into my lap, hold onto her tight. “You are wonderful for me. I love everything about you inside and out. Whatever you need to do I’ll support.”

“Thank you.” Her head falls forward, resting against my chest. “Will you go with me?” she asks softly.

When I hesitate, she sits up. “I don’t mean to therapy. Just the doctor said the first few times could trigger stuff and I shouldn’t be alone after.”

My throat’s so tight, it takes a second to work any sound out. “Of course, I’ll take you. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Wrath and Trinity barely glance my way before leaving for her room.

“Everything okay?” I ask Mariella.

She lifts her delicate shoulders, but won’t meet my gaze. “There’s lunch in the kitchen if you want to eat something before we leave?”

“Come on, I’ll take you down there,” Teller offers and holds out his arm.

Thank you.
I mouth as Teller whisks her away. I shouldn’t be, but I’m uncomfortable around Mariella. I know whatever led her to implicate Rock in the murder probably wasn’t by choice. It’s still weird and I’m still struggling not to wrap my hands around her neck every time I see her.

“You okay, Hope?” Z asks as he steps out of the office.

“I think so,” I answer with a sad smile.

“Come here.”

He directs me into the office and shuts the door. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I’m scared.” As soon as the words leave my mouth I realize their truth. “I’m worried you guys risked your lives for nothing and we still won’t be able to get Rock out.”

“I know, honey. We’re all worried about that. Probably more than you because none of us have any faith in the law or regular society.”

I’m not sure how to respond because more and more I find myself agreeing with the Lost Kings MC’s outlaw ideals. “I know it’s not her fault, but—”

“You’re pissed at Mariella?”

“I know I shouldn’t be—”

“Hey, you went through a lot of shit because of those lies. Having Rock torn away from you at your engagement party, that ugly scene with the guard, having to visit your man in jail, and all the shit that comes with it. You have a right to keep your distance.”