Page 61 of April 5

Jagger leaned against the table across from Ruger. "Who did this to you?"

"Nobody important."

"Are you being followed?" he asked.

"If I was, why the fuck would I bring them straight to the clubhouse?" Ruger tilted his head back.

Cord made a small slice in Ruger's eyelid. Blood gushed down his face.

Jagger pushed away from the table in frustration and spotted the woman who came with Ruger running out of the hallway. "Catch her."

He moved toward the hallway to find Katrina, knowing she was caring for the girl, and almost ran into her.

"Are you okay?" He held her arms, looking her over.

"Yeah." She blew out her breath. "She just took off."

"Stay the fuck away from her."

Jagger turned to find Ruger standing up, blood running down his face, and limping toward the woman. He glanced at Katrina in question. She shrugged. No one seemed to know what the hell was going on.

He palmed the back of Katrina's neck and brought her closer. "I need you to talk to your dad and find out why he came here in that condition."

"He won't tell you?"

If he pressured Ruger, the confrontation would become physical. Katrina's dad was already in rough shape but that wouldn't stop him from swinging.

"He's not saying much." He watched the activity on the other side of the room. "Did the girl say anything?"

"Nothing." Katrina lowered her voice. "Something freaked her out in the room, and she bolted. I'm surprised she can walk. She's hurt all over, Jagger."

Ruger held the woman against his chest, cradling her head in his hand, hiding her from the others. Jagger recognized the protective pose.

"Oh, my God," mumbled Katrina.

Before he could stop her, Katrina went to her dad's side. "You're bleeding all over. Sit down and let Cord help you."

Ruger returned to the chair and put the woman on his lap, shielding her face against his chest. "Get at it."

Cord moved forward, cleaning up the eye that continued to drain. Jagger pulled Katrina back, giving them room.

"You can see your dad after Cord is done with him," he whispered in her ear. "Let's get them both settled first. Then, we'll figure out what's going on."

"The police aren't after him, are they?" she whispered back.

"Doesn't look like it."

The first thing he'd done was send a crew out to ride a perimeter around the clubhouse. No one would get past them.

"Get them out of here." Ruger flinched from Cord's touch. "God damnit. I'm going to start fucking blowing heads—"

"Everyone out," said Jagger quietly. "Cord. You stay and patch them up."

Katrina lifted her chin. "Please, Dad. Let Cord help you."

A look passed between father and daughter. Luckily, the silent exchange quieted Ruger.

When the others left, and Ruger calmed enough to let Cord stitch his eye, Jagger pulled out a chair and motioned for Katrina to sit. She was pale and shaking. The whole ordeal was taking a lot out of her.

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