Page 4 of Knuckles

“Poor choice of words, honey. I’m glad I was prepared ’cause you ain’t in no shape to ride a bike, and no way in hell I’m leavin’ you here for any fuckin’ reason.”

“If you could just help me home, I promise I won’t be any more of a bother.”

“Like fuck.” Knuckles scooped me up in his arms. The guy was freakishly strong, because he picked me up in a deadlift before settling me against his chest with one arm around my back and the other under my legs. He might have been picking up a gallon of milk for all the effort it took him. “I’m takin’ you home with me. Pain’ll take a look at you. You might be hurt worse than you realize.”

“Where’s Dillon?” I couldn’t help the question.

I realized it was a mistake to say Dillon’s name when Knuckles stiffened around me. “Dillon.” He spat out the name like it left a bad taste in his mouth. “I hope you’re talkin’ ‘bout your pet chihuahua and not the motherfucker who hit you.”

I sighed. “Look,” I said in a soft voice for Knuckle’s ears alone. “You know as well as I do, you can’t disappear him now. Too many people saw the fight.”

He took me out of the club in long, confident strides. I clung to him, ducking my head but resisting the temptation to bury my face in his chest. That would be too embarrassing for words. Especially when he was my twin’s best friend.

“Fully aware of how to carry out a hit, sweetheart.” His voice was as soft as mine had been when he spoke to me. “You know he’s gonna die. If not by my hand, by Gunnar’s.”

“No!” My heart pounded at the thought of Gunnar killing to protect me. “Not again.” The last two words were said in a whimper. I struggled to get out of Knuckles’s hold, but I might as well not have tried. I wasn’t going anywhere Knuckles didn’t want me going.

“Trust me to know what I’m doin’, Hannah. Ain’t no one goin’ back to prison. I made a promise to myself after I killed the motherfuckers who hurt my sister, I wouldn’t do anything like that without a plan ever again. Not because I regret what I did, but because I took action without a plan firmly in place to buffer the fallout.” He met my gaze with a steady one of his own. “Make no mistake, baby, Dillon’s gonna die. But not before I’m ready.”

Knuckles slid into the back seat of some kind of SUV. My vision still wasn’t right. Probably because one eye was starting to swell where Dillon had backhanded me with the first blow. The car door shut, then a few moments later, we sped off.

“Wait.” I tried to sit up but couldn’t manage to do more than push away from Knuckles’s chest slightly. My head pounded and I couldn’t focus properly, but I was becoming more aware -- of way more than was good for me. “Where are we going?”

“To the compound. Pain’s gonna check you over. Remember?”

“No, Knuckles. I want to go home.”

“Honey, Kiss of Death is your home. Gunnar is gonna be pissed as shit when he finds this out. What the fuck, Hannah?”

“Stop the truck.” I pushed away from Knuckles with more effort this time. “I’m not going back to the compound. And you’re not saying shit to Gunnar.”

“Stop it! Hold still. You’ll make yourself sick.”

“Stop the fucking truck. I want out.” I continued to struggle. It didn’t take much for Knuckles to hold me still. I could tell he was trying to be careful not to hurt me or let me hurt myself, but I was not going to that compound. I wasn’t getting anywhere near Gunnar until any damage Dillon had done was healed. If that meant I took a vacation for a couple weeks, I’d get out of town.

“Christ, Hannah.” Knuckles sounded alarmed but irritated. “Quit squirmin’. You can’t get up with the truck movin’.”

“I told you to stop the vehicle, Knuckles. Either let me out or take me to my house. I’m not going to Kiss of Death.” Thankfully, the vehicle slowed and we pulled off on the side of the road. Knuckles was right. Moving so much, struggling after being knocked silly while in a moving vehicle made me nauseous as hell.

“She OK?” The man driving spoke softly, as if he knew my head was hurting and was trying to keep it down.

“I’m fine. I just want to go home.”

“If you don’t want to go to Gunnar, that’s fine. I’ll take you to mine.”

“Either take me to my house or let me out of the fucking truck, Knuckles.” I put every ounce of demand in my voice I could. I still sounded weak, but I thought I finally got my point across to him.

“Fine. But just so you understand, there is no version of events where I leave you alone tonight. Understand?”

“Probably the best I’m gonna get,” I muttered. “Fine. Take me home.” My stomach chose that moment to rebel. I reached for the door handle. “Right after I throw up.” I fumbled until I managed to get the door open, and tumbled out onto the pavement on the shoulder of the road.

“Christ, Hannah! Be careful!”

I heaved and heaved. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I’d thrown up my shoes. When I finished, I fell back on my ass against a solid body. I was pinned in the V of his thighs as he supported me. Thank God too, because I’d have fallen in my own puke if he hadn’t.

“She’s gonna have to have medical care, Knuckles. If she’s hurt bad, Gunnar’s gonna go nuclear even more than he’s already gonna.”

“You’re such a dumb shit, Knight. And I’m tellin’ Gunnar you said that.” Hawk, one of the guys with Knuckles smacked the other man in the back of the head.

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