Page 3 of Broken
My door opens and Torch pulls me out. “What the fuck, Prospect? The assignment was to watch them, not let them run around the highway at night taking random girls home.” He’s in my face, and I really have to fight the urge to shove him back and out of my space.
“I tried to keep ‘em in the truck. I locked the doors, but Lucy forced the locks open. I went after her, and she threatened to demolish my balls, then Nikki joined in. I had my piece trained on her to make sure nothing shady went down and I was scanning the area.” I hope my explanation is enough for him.
He looks back over at the girls, who are unfazed as they get reamed for what they did. Torch nods at me before heading to the back where the girl is. Her eyes are wide, almost like a puppy dog. Like the stray dog inLady and the Tramp. My sister used to be obsessed with that dumbass movie.
“Everyone inside!” Twisted shouts, and the girls stomp like children toward the door.
Torch tries to reach for Tramp, and she moves so far over that she almost falls out of the open door. Her eyes find mine and lock on me.
“You get her then, she’s lookin’ at you.” Torch shakes his head and walks toward the clubhouse door.
Great, more goddamn babysitting.
I stand at the open door. She’s watching me like I’m a grenade about to explode. “Come on, it’s cold out here and you already got me bitched at once tonight. I’m not trying to get chewed out again.” I take a step back and wait a moment. “I’m Max. We aren’t gonna hurt you. Just come inside.” I wait another beat, hoping I can sway her into moving. I’m about to grab her and throw her over my shoulder when she slowly starts to scoot across the bench seat. She steps out, misjudging the height, and stumbles.
I catch her, keeping her from hitting the ground. She looks up at me, and I can see unshed tears in her eyes. Sheisscared. I take a breath to try and release the asshole from my body. “Let’s go.” I stand her up and lead her inside, my hand on her lower back to guide her, and hopefully provide some sort of comfort.
We walk in, and Pres is pacing the room. His glaring eyes land on her and they are so intense that even I might shrink away from him. She freezes, her feet beginning to move backward.
“Gotta keep moving, girl.” I nudge her forward, and she hesitates before continuing to walk.
He looks at me. “Leave.”
Jesus.
Who is this girl?
