Page 58 of Dagger

I couldn’t think straight, which is probably why the most asinine words came from my mouth. “All my clothes are in there. I hated wearing them; I despised the woman they represented because she was everythinghewanted and everything I never wanted to be, but they’re worth a fortune. I was going to donate them to a charity that provides for women who need clothes to wear at job interviews.”

“I’ll buy out Nordstrom, baby—” John’s voice was cut off by a door slamming loudly.

Silence fell over the room, then, to my utter shock, a familiar high-pitched voice called out, “Cooeeeeeeeee.”

I pulled away from John and looked toward the entrance, my mouth gaping open at the sight before me.

Tristan, my hair stylist, stood at the doors.

He wore skin-tight black leather pants, a plum-colored button-up, and a matching scarf. His look was finished off with a white fedora with an elaborate black feather sticking out.

He looked fantastic, but he also looked like he had no business being in a biker bar.

Jesus Christ.

Tristan raised a hand, dropped it to the side, and snapped his fingers with a loudclick. “Sorry to interrupt, big bad bikers, but I found a hottie who belongs to you. He was carrying a pretty miss thang down the street, so I stopped and gave him a ride.”

He stepped aside to reveal a shadowy figure.

Kennedy rose from her seat and, with a cry, flew toward her ol’ man.

Kit went back on one foot with the force of her impact before he slid his arms around her back and buried his face in her neck. He looked up, his vacant stare slid to John, and he muttered flatly, “There’s a girl in Tristan’s car.”

“Fuck!” John muttered, his hand tightening on my waist. “Atlas!”

“On it, Prez,” the SAA grunted, already heading for the doors to the parking lot.

“I’ll go too,” Sophie declared. “She may need medical help. Can you get an exam room ready? She may need treatment.”

Tipping my chin up, I touched Stone’s arm to get his attention. “I’m a nurse’s assistant. What do you need me to do?”

He scraped a frustrated hand down his face. “We’ve got a medical wing. Can you go down there and set up for Sophie? She equipped the place, so you should have everything you need.”

“I’ll show you where to go,” Layla offered, transferring Finn into Bowie’s arms.

John clasped my elbow. “Are you okay to do this? Your house is burnin’. I get it if you need to take stock and get your head together. We don’t even know if Henderson was in there when it went up.”

My teeth sunk into my lip.

As terrible as it sounded, all I felt at the idea of Robert being burned alive was relief. My ex-husband was evil through and through. The world would be a better place without him in it.

Shrugging nonchalantly, I stated, “I don’t care if he’s dead.”

A part of me expected John to stare at me like I was a serial killer, but instead, his lips twitched. “Yeah,” he murmured to himself. “That’s my girl.”

“He’s not dead,” a deep voice declared.

My neck twisted toward Kit, who stared blankly at us. He seemed almost detached from Kennedy, who was burrowing herself into his shoulder like she’d never let him out of her sight again.

“He wasn’t home,” Kit announced. “I knew the girl was in the basement; saw ‘em take her there. They talked about shippin’ her out the next day. I waited until the coast was clear, then went down there to get her the fuck outta there.”

Unease prickled through my stomach. “There’s cameras down there.”

A flicker of emotion moved behind Kit’s eyes. “Not anymore.”

John’s body visibly locked. “What the fuck?”

“Didn’t know there were cameras in the basement until I got down there,” Kit relayed. “Made a split decision. Get the girl the fuck outta there and clean up any traces I left. Didn’t have a choice.”

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