Page 8 of Property of Mako
“Not her,” he ground out.
I glanced into his angry gaze.
“Her,” he snapped as he jerked his head back, motioning toward the direction we’d come from.
My chin rose defensively. He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. Despite saying I left her with the rest of the mess back there, I’d been seeing that young woman’s terrified hazel eyes in my mind since I walked away from her. The fact that her mind seemed to be a steel trap had me reeling.
“That woman changed everything. I shouldn’t have slowed those enforcers down for her to get away. I should’ve just let nature take its course.” He dragged a frustrated hand down his face.
Of course she did, and he probably should have. I hadn’t survived as long as I had by being a complete moron. But our chapter of the Kings of Anarchy did what we could to save people like her—not leave them for dead.
But fuck, she had been in the wrong damn place at the absolute worst time. A messy, wide-eyed mortal with a stubborn jaw and an obvious death wish. No fucking fangs. No backup. Only a crowbar and too much goddamn nerve. What the hell was she doing there?
“What did you find when you wiped her? Who the fuck was she and what was she doing there?”
“I—” I started, then stopped.
Dexter groaned as he let his head fall back to the headrest. “Oh man, Mako, tell me you wiped her.”
“There wasn’t time,” I lied.
“Bullshit,” he spat out as he glared at me, spotting my BS from a mile away. “Wait… you didn’t kill her, did you?”
“What? Of course not!” I snapped. Did he really expect that from me?
“Bro, she saw you. She saw them. She saw what you did to them,” he bit out. “She’s a witness and that’s a problem. Fuck, this is bad.”
“We don’t fucking kill innocents, and there wasn’t time,” I insistently shot back.
“I understand that, Mako. But goddammit, she’s gonna talk. This is gonna be fuckin’ bad, bro. You should’ve wiped her memory immediately—you had time and you damn well know it. That or we should’ve brought her with and let Zeus take care of her.”
Knowing full good and well I’d fucked up, but not having a rational excuse to give him for leaving her memories intact, I sighed. “I’ll deal with it when the time comes. She was probably so scared she won’t tell anyone. Besides, who would actually believe her? Let’s get this one back so you can look her over. You think she’s gonna make it?”
“She’ll make it. I just don’t know what kind of condition she’s going to be in.”
Knowing what he was referring to, I gave a curt nod and took off down the road toward the clubhouse. Faster, I sped, trying to outpace the feeling the ballsy redhead had left me with.
Something about her face—it twisted things in me that I thought were long dead. Not attraction. Not yet, I told myself. It was something colder. Deeper.
Recognition.
She reminded me of Calla.
Not in the obvious ways, but in the way that every endangered female reminded me. Because no, outwardly, she wasn’t anything like my sister. Calla had been poised, noble, careful with her fire and emotions. This girl was rough edges and raw grief. It had poured off her in waves. Yet there was something in her eyes when she’d looked at me. Besides that look that people get when they realize monsters are real. No, not simply real—that they bleed.
What I saw in her eyes was something I wasn’t willing or prepared to process. The fact that I couldn’t… well, that was another thing entirely.
The rest of the trip back to the Kings’ compound was a blur. After rolling through the gates, I cut my engine outside the clubhouse. The Iron Den, as we called it, sat quiet under the bright moon, all corrugated steel and deep shadows. The scent of motor oil, exhaust, and crusted blood clung to me as I slid off my bike.
As I walked toward the dented steel door, Dexter pulled up. Realizing I’d left him in my dust, a tiny kernel of guilt burned in my gut. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything. Still, I helped him get the girl out of the truck so the blanket didn’t fall off of her nude form. She was still out, and I had a feeling he’d given her something to keep her that way.
“You take her to the infirmary. I’ll go explain to Boomslang and Killswitch about what happened. I’ll take full responsibility,” I assured him.
He shook his head. “That’s not fair. This was as much on me as you,” he explained as he dipped his chin to the girl who couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen.
“I was more referring to the other one,” I wryly clarified.
He pursed his lips but didn’t speak.
