Page 60 of April 5

The crowd parted for them. She walked slowly, practically holding the woman up. She looked over her shoulder at the door and caught her dad stumbling off the motorcycle before Jagger and two other bikers caught him.

She wanted to help her dad but knew he would want her to help the woman first.

She took the woman to the first bedroom on the right in the clubhouse, away from where the children were kept. There was also a bathroom in that bedroom where she could clean up.

She shut the door and led her to a chair. "Are you able to sit?"

The woman lowered herself down on a moan. Katrina stood back. She had no idea what to do first. There were injuries.

"Where does it hurt the most?" she asked.

The woman reached up to her head and stopped before making contact. Katrina looked all over the woman's scalp but couldn't see where the blood came from. It looked as if she'd had a bloody nose. But if her head hurts, she could have a concussion.

She walked into the bathroom and wet several washcloths under the faucet before returning to the woman. "Did you and my dad have an accident?"

The woman never answered. She offered the washcloth, and the woman held it in both hands, scrubbing at her fingers. There was dirt and grime under the woman's short fingernails.

"I'm going to wash your face to see where you're bleeding." She gently patted her cheeks. "I'll try not to hurt you."

"Ruger?"

"He's getting help." Katrina swallowed. "He's hurt, too."

As she made progress on her face and could see that someone had hit the woman, causing her to have swollen lips and a bruise all along her cheekbone and jaw, she started to wonder who had hurt her. Who had hurt her dad?

They weren't in an accident. There was no road rash, and the motorcycle wasn't damaged.

"Ruger?" She pulled away from Katrina's touch. "I must go."

"You need to stay here."

The woman stood with surprising strength, frantically looking around the room. "No."

"Please, sit." Katrina motioned toward the chair. "I'm trying to help you. We need to find out where you're hurt."

The woman dashed to the other side of the room, opened the door, and hurried out of the room. Katrina threw the washcloth to the floor and ran after her. If the chick didn't want to be here, there was no reason to keep her.

She was more concerned about her dad.

Chapter Twenty Nine

"CLEAR OUT," SHOUTED Jagger.

"The children are sequestered in the back room." Maverick dropped Ruger in the chair at the table.

"Have the women escort them out the rear door. The party is over." Jagger looked behind him. "Someone get Cord."

"I'm here, Prez." Cord tossed a duffle bag on the table. "Are you shot?"

"No." Ruger motioned toward his eyes. "Cut them, so I can fucking see."

Jagger stood back, assessing Ruger's condition. Bikers got roughed up a lot—most of them when they were drunk and having a good time. Wherever Ruger had been over the last six weeks, he wasn't partying.

Cord removed a sterile razor blade from the kit he carried in his bag. "I'll need some towels and water."

"On it." Brett jogged down the hallway.

Regardless of the situation, Jagger needed to know what the fuck was going on. He had to prepare his men in case others were coming after Ruger and headed their way.

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