Page 7 of Protector

He covered me with a clean towel and flipped on the faucet at the sink, letting the water heat up before running a washcloth under it. “Your old man called Wolverine, and he called in me and Comedian. We were closest.”

His jaw tightened, and he paused before adding, “I had no idea you were still in town. I just assumed that when the club pulled out, you went with ‘em. If I would’ve known—make no mistake, every last one of the motherfuckers’ll be meeting the Reaper.”

“My dad took the girls away, right? Did they seem—were they okay? Not like this?” My voice cracked as I gestured toward my face.

He knelt on the tile, seemingly oblivious to the fact that my blood was now soaking through his jeans. “Your girls are safe, darlin’. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“It’s not fair to make you do this.”

“If I don’t, who will?” He gently dabbed at the blood on my chin with the damp cloth, but I jerked away.

So fuckin’ good.

“Don’t touch me,” I hissed suddenly, batting away his hand. I wanted to claw at my skin until I couldn’t feel their touch anymore.

Angel rocked back on his heels, shifting gears. “Where’s Hawk? He do this to you?”

I stared at the crescent-shaped markings on my thighs and traced the red indentions with the pad of my thumb, letting his words sink in.

Had he?

“I did this to myself.” I squeezed my eyes shut as more tears fell. Jamie had worked so hard to make the other clubs think he was dead, and I’d blown it.

Why hadn’t I just told him the money was missing?

I’d thought I was so bright; entering into games and making my own money. The truth had been staring me right in the face over the past three years, yet I’d never once suspected that Hawk was capable of stealing from us.

“Celia, did you hear me? Jamie’s on his way.”

I studied the wounds on my legs again. “He can’t come here.”

That was exactly what they wanted.

Angel brought his hand down to rest against the rug burn on my knee. “You’re shakin’. Look at me—it would take a damn army to stop Jamie from getting to you.”

And it would take an army to save me once he discovered the truth.

I mashed my lips together and shook my head again. “You can’t let him, Angel. He can’t—” My voice cut off in a sob and he tried to pull me into his arms.

With a whimper, I tugged the towel up again and fought to free myself from his grasp. I didn’t know why I was concerned with keeping myself covered. It didn’t matter. There wasn’t a part of my body that hadn’t been marked in some way.

We had some good times together, didn’t we?

I sat up and squeezed Angel’s arm to the point of leaving bruises, roaring, as another small gush of blood spread from between my thighs.

He grabbed the small trashcan by the toilet and held it under my face when I began retching.

It shouldn’t have been him.

“I’m sorry,” I moaned through the pain. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh… don’t you apologize. You’re gonna be okay.” He rubbed small circles across my back.

I expected him to run away to join Comedian; but he stayed, situated at my back with his legs on either side of mine.

When my strength fled, I let my head fall back to his chest and confessed, “It’s my fault, Angel. They know he’s alive because of me. I led them here.”

There was a soft knock at the door, and then six Comedians walked into the bathroom.

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