Page 116 of Lucky's Trouble

“Whatever,” he says, and then he walks inside.

“I think he has a crush,” Bones whispers.

“On Chap? He treats her like garbage.”

“Our Golden boy is emotionally stunted. That’s what happens when a one-night stand drops your newborn on your doorstep and disappears.”

“I guess.” I shove the last of my Twizzler in my mouth. “Better go find my woman and check on her sister.”

“Good job bringing her home, brother,” Judge says. “I was missing our morning debates.”

“Continue to miss them, asshole. I’ll be taking her to work with me for a while.”

“Sure you will,” he calls after me, knowing Tinleigh would rather debate the second coming of Christ with him than get her hands dirty in an engine. Still, I have something he doesn’t that might sway her decision. I have piercings.

Tobi pops his head out of the front door. “I’m supposed to tell you that Tinleigh moved Myla into your place to make room at Sugar’s for someone named Pet?”

“Motherfucker.” I stomp through the clubhouse, out the back door, and to our home, meaning mine and Tinleigh’s, not a place for Myla to convalesce, especially considering there are no walls in our bedroom.

Walking inside, I know there’s no hope in talking Tinleigh out of this. My sofa has been pulled out into a bed, and my coffee table is now a medicine cabinet, with orange bottles lined up next to a notebook with what looks like a schedule on it.

“You look like shit,” I say, taking in my friend, who is still unrecognizable from all the swelling. If possible, she looks worse now that the bruising has set in.

“Thanks, asshole.” Her voice sounds like it’s gone through a meat grinder.

“How are you really?” I sit on the corner of the bed as Tinleigh mills about, moving things around.

“Fifteen stitches and a sprained wrist.” She holds up her bandaged arm. “Eight more on the left leg, ten on the right and a sprained ankle. Cracked rib and the plastic surgery gone wrong on my face. Four stitches here.” She points to her temple. “And a broken nose.”

“I killed him,” I say in response, wishing like hell he had nine lives like a cat to do it all over again.

“You should’ve saved him for me.” Her lower lip that’s all scabbed up juts out.

I see what Judge meant when he said she was angry. Myla’s not a violent person. One time, she made me open a window and shoo a fly out that was buzzing around my head during one of our morning chats because she didn’t want to kill it.

“Sorry about that, but I didn’t have time to wait around for you to heal up.”

“Whatever you did wasn’t enough. He deserved worse.”

“He did,” I agree, picking a loose thread on the blanket covering her legs. Her drastic shift to the dark side has me feeling uncomfortable. “But it’s irrelevant now because it’s done.”

“It’s not irrelevant,” she bites out. “The asshole who took Tinleigh grabbed me in front of my apartment. He took me to the Thirst Trap and handed me over to Neal, who proceeded to beat the living hell out of me.” She draws an invisible circle around her face with her good hand. “He did all this with his bare hands while one of his lackeys held me in place.”

“Myla, you’re injured. We don’t need to—”

“Yes, the fuck, we do.”

I jerk back as though she slapped me. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard her say “fuck” before, let alone use it in anger. Looking to Tinleigh for a little help, I realize I won’t find it because she’s ignoring the whole thing, busying herself in the kitchen.

“Then he took off my clothes, and like I was in a snuff film, he and his men took turns jerking off in front of me, spraying their nasty cum all over my naked and bleeding body.” Her voice grows louder and sounds pained. “Once their balls were empty, they loaded me into a van, drove me here and put my sister’s shoes on me, trying to throw you off long enough that the first guy could get out of town with Tinleigh before you realized it was me. Dumb fucks weren’t observant enough to realize we have different colored streaks in our hair.”

I didn’t need to know any of this. Matter of fact, I wish I didn’t because she’s right. Neal deserved so much worse. Now that I do know, I’m fucking glad those two men will go down for his murder, because I’m certain they played a part in what happened to her. I make a mental note to reach out to a few friends of the club on the inside. I’m sure I could deposit some cash in their commissary accounts in exchange for making their lives hell.

“I’m sorry. I knew you were alive and safe, but I couldn’t say the same for her.” I nod over at the chicken shit hiding from her sister’s wrath. “That took priority over everything else.”

Only at the mention of Tinleigh does she soften slightly. “Thank you for going after her. She told me what went down.”

“Turns out our girl is a badass.”

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