Page 72 of Injustice and Absolution

I don’t know if I’m relieved to hear it or not. I’m thankful they have a visual, butwhyis she here? Is she stripping? If so, is she being forced to do so?

I’ll lose my goddamn mind.

And if she’s here of her own volition? If she thought this was her only option?

I’ll lose my goddamn mind.

A minute later, Draven and Saxon walk out of the club, and I grab their cuts before exiting my truck.

As I meet them on the sidewalk, Draven noticeably avoids my gaze. I know he has information I’m not going to like.

“I motioned for her to come outside. She’s on her way,” he informs me as I hand their cuts over to them.

He and Saxon both put them on eagerly, almost as if they’re soothed by the weight of the leather on their shoulders.

I can’t blame them. It’s like a second skin.

Before I’m able to inquire about Draven’s withdrawn expression, I catch motion in my peripheral vision, and I have my answer as soon as I focus on the movement.

My jaw drops as Delilah steps into the orange glow of the streetlight out front. The way the yellow and purple lights from the club’s sign highlight her exposed curves in theoutfitshe has on stuns me. This isn’t the same girl I know.

Delilah, who would never wear a bikini.

Delilah, who was never comfortable showing her cleavage.

Delilah, who looks so much older than she did the last time I saw her.

Finally able to get my wits about me, I take advantage of her lack of clothing to search her body for any bruising or evidence of abuse.

Thankfully, there is none.

But that fact brings me shallow relief as my eyes roam her body once more.

The black bra and sorry excuse for shorts she has on cuts me, but not as much as the reticence on her face. Her uneven stride, the way she hugs her arms tightly around her stomach as she tries to hide herself from me.

That slices me straight through my heart.

“This is what you’re doing now?” I nod toward her approaching form, my eyes sharp, wanting to cut her back.

“What are you doing here, Royce?” is her only response.

“You come out here, looking likethat,and you have to wonder what I’m doing here?” I wave my hand up and down her body, accentuating my displeasure over finding her half-dressed and working in a strip club. “Is he making you do this?”

“What? N-no...” I don’t miss the shaky strain in her voice.

Is she lying?

Is she nervous?

I move in closer to her, and she backs up into the brick wall façade. I rest my arm against it and angle my body toward her.

“Kitten...” I start but halt when she squints at the nickname.

As though it wounds her.

“Are you in any kind of trouble? Any danger at all?”

“No, why would you think that?” she questions.

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