Page 54 of Banshee
I sat up, scooting to the edge of the couch. My eyes tracked him as he moved about the room.
“What the hell was he doing there?”
Diesel whined beside me; he felt my anxiety rising. It was scary how in tune he was with my emotions. Sometimes I felt like the dog knew what I was feeling even when I didn’t.
“Okay, keep me updated.”
The minute he set his phone down, I was out of my seat and across the room.
“They found her?”
“She’s home.” He pulled me against him, and I knew it wasn’t that simple.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know yet. A man showed up at the clubhouse with Amber in his arms. He’d found her on the road beaten to hell.”
My gasp was loud in the quiet cabin. I pulled back to look at Banshee. My eyes watered as I thought about everything Amber had endured in her life. We were almost the same age, but where I had been sheltered until I got married, Amber had been used and abused her whole life.
She didn’t deserve this.
“What man?”
My suspicions rose immediately. Someone justfoundher? On the road early in the morning? Why was he out there? Where did he find her? How did he know to bring her to the clubhouse? There were too many unanswered questions.
“A man named Massacre found her.”
I stepped back, my hands covering my mouth. I knew that name. I knew his club.
“Do you know who that is?”
I nodded. I had never met him, but I’d heard about him. He was with the Golden Skulls. They weren’t quite as ruthless as my father’s club, but they certainly weren’t Boy Scouts. Reaperwas unhinged, but given what he’d been through, it wasn’t surprising.
“Of course you do. Is there anything your brother didn’t share with you?”
“It wasn’t my brother. He’s like my father. He thinks women shouldn’t be involved. They didn’t have a place in club affairs. Except my mother of course. My father never kept anything from her.”
Except my marriage. Until it was too late.
“My mother is the one who told me about the clubs. The ones to watch out for and the ones to seek out when I was in trouble.”
“Allies and enemies,” Banshee said, turning toward the kitchen. He opened the fridge and reached in, grabbing two bottles of water.
“Not always,” I muttered.
“What do you mean?”
“My mother taught me that not all allies are safe, and sometimes enemies are worth asking for help.”
“Like who?”
I shook my head and reached for the bottle. It didn’t matter anymore. I was here. I was safe for now.
“What allies aren’t safe, baby girl?”
“Banshee—”
“What allies aren’t safe?”
