Page 78 of Q: Satan's Fury MC

Every time I closed my eyes, I found myself thinking about Jules’s ex and how I wanted to kill him with my bare fucking hands. He was just a few yards away, waiting for me in one of Stitch’s holding rooms, and I wanted nothing more than to wrap my fingers around the guy’s neck and choke the life of him.

But he would have to wait.

Jules needed me, and I would be damned if I let her down.

I’d already failed her once, and I was going to do everything in my power to make sure it never happened again.

JULES

I’d been awake for hours, but I hadn’t moved. I could feel Quinton lying there next to me, and I wasn’t ready to face him. I was still struggling with the fact that he wasn’t there when I needed him most.

I knew I wasn’t being fair. Until last night, he had no idea that James was in town or that he’d come to see me. He had no clue that he’d found my apartment and had bullied his way inside. He also didn’t know that he’d struck me multiple times and had threatened my life. I might not have made it out of there alive if Smokey and Hayes hadn’t shown up.

I had no idea how they knew I was in trouble, and I didn’t care. I was just relieved that they’d come. I was on the floor, my head was spinning, and I was fading in and out of consciousness when I heard Smokey roar, “Get the fuck away from her!”

“Who the hell are you?” James spat.

“I’m not saying it again,” Smokey growled. “Back away from her, now!”

“You the guy who’s been fucking her?” James let out a disgruntled breath. “Should’ve known she’d be seeing some derelict piece of shit like you.”

I was still trying to recover from the last blow when I felt his boot slam into the side of my head again, and this time, it sent me spiraling. I saw stars, and then everything went black.

I don’t know how long I’d been out when I woke up in the backseat of Smokey’s truck. Hayes was sitting next to me and was holding a rag to my head. When he noticed that I was awake, he leaned down and whispered, “You’re okay. We’ve got you.”

“Where are we going?”

“The clubhouse,” Smokey answered. “Gonna have Doc take a look at you and make sure you’re okay.”

“Why?” I asked with confusion. “I’m okay.”

“Doc will be the judge of that.”

I was lost in a deep fog and unable to think, much less form a cognitive thought. I was struggling to remember how I’d ended up with them when it hit me all at once, and I gasped, “Oh, God! James! He was here.”

“Don’t gotta worry about him,” Hayes assured me. “He’s never going to hurt you again.”

“How can you say that?” I sat up, and my stomach immediately turned, making me feel terribly nauseous. “Stop the truck! I’m going to be sick.”

Smokey quickly pulled over on the shoulder, then waited as Hayes helped me out. I crouched over and prepared for another wave of nausea to hit, but the second the cold, fresh air hit my lungs, the sick feeling faded.

I took several deep, cleansing breaths, then slowly stood upright. I was about to tell Hayes that I was okay when my attention was drawn to the back end of the truck. There was a loud thump, followed by a muffled groan. Curious, I leaned forward to get a better look, but Hayes held his hand up and said, “I think it’s best that you get back in the truck.”

“Why? What is that?”

“Get back inside, Jules.”

Maybe it was the tone of his voice or the look on his face, but a chill ran down my spine, and I knew it was James in the back of that truck. I didn’t say a word. I simply got back in the truck and remained silent as Smokey continued driving toward the clubhouse. When we got there, Smokey got out, and he and Hayes helped me out of the truck, then led me up to the front door.

As soon as we made it inside, Smokey turned to Hayes and said, “Take her down to the infirmary. Doc’s waiting for her.”

Hayes gave his father a quick nod, then helped me down the hall and into a room I’d never seen before. With all the medical tools and devices, it reminded me of a doctor’s office, but not like any I’d ever been to. Hayes was helping me over to one of the gurneys when Doc came rushing over.

“Heard you had quite a night.”

“I did.”

“How you holding up?”

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