Page 80 of Silver Tears

“I promise,” she whispers. She sounds so scared. I hate that I’m not there with her now.

“I’m setting off now. I’ll get there as fast as I can, okay?”

“Okay. Please hurry.”

“Call me back straight away if anything happens.” I end the call and stride back over to where Archer and Rafe are. The girls are back from their dancing and in our booth drinking and chatting. “I need the both of you now.”

Archer looks up at me and whatever he sees has him standing to his feet immediately. He pulls his car keys out and passes them to Eliza, instructing her to meet him at home.

“What’s going on?” Eliza asks me, concerned. “Can we help?”

I shake my head. “No. Don’t ask questions I can’t answer.” I look at Rafe and Archer. “We need to go now!”

“Wait, what about the job?” Vee asks me. My sister studies my face. She knows me too well. She knows something is very wrong.

“Can you girls try to make introductions?” I ask them. I really don’t care about the job, but the last thing we need right now is the elders on our back.

Eliza nods her head firmly. “We got this. You guys go.”

I smile in appreciation. Archer and Rafe kiss the girls and tell them we’ll be in touch. The three of us rush through the club into the cool night air and we head for my car. They don’t peck me with questions as we climb into the car and speed off into the night. Rafe reaches into my glove box and pulls out the gun. “How many?” He asks me as he loads the bullets and pockets it in his jacket.

“One. The fucker tried to rape Mills. I’m going to cut his balls off and feed them to him.” And that was just the start of the torture I’m going to inflict upon Lenny Tate. He’ll regret the day he ever laid a finger on what was mine. And she is mine.

“Fuck, man, is she okay?” Archer asks me. He pulls on his leather gloves and rubs at his knuckles. He’s ready to show this fucker what we do to men who think they can violate a woman.

“No, she’s a fucking mess. Mills stabbed him. He’s lying on the floor, not moving.” I just want to get to her and tell her she’s safe. I hated hearing the panic and upset in her voice. If I hadn’t been on this stupid fucking job for the elders, I might have been there tonight.

* * *

We pull up outside. The house is in darkness except for the light coming from the hallway. The front door is ajar. I scan the area as we exit the car and head towards the house, making sure no nosey neighbours are curtain twitching. As we reach the door, Archer taps my arm and gestures to the floor. There is a trail of blood leading from the house and down the path.

“Kitchen first,” I tell them, gesturing with my head in the direction they need to go. I head straight upstairs to Charlie’s room and gently tap on the door. “It’s me, Mills.”

I hear her move whatever she had behind the door and slowly she inches it open, her eyes peering out to check it’s really me. I glance into the room and see that Charlie is sleeping soundly, oblivious to the horror of tonight. I beckon her out, holding my hand out and she places her cold hand in mine. I lead her out into the hallway and quietly pull the bedroom door closed. Gently, I guide her into the bathroom and sit her down on the toilet seat. I scan her body for signs of injury. There’s a nasty red mark on her left cheek and her lip is bloodied. It makes my blood boil, seeing that he’s marked her and made her bleed.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” I ask her, lifting her top and checking for any wounds. Blood covers her T-shirt. “Mills, is this your blood or his? Talk to me, precious!”

She looks down at her bloodied top and shakes her head. “It’s his.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. Thank fuck. “We need to get these clothes off you, okay?” I urge her gently, fully aware that she’s about to break at any moment. She’s ice cold with shock and shivering. “I’m going to undress you, okay, and then we’re going to wash you clean in the shower.”

“Have you called the police?” she asks me, her face devoid of all emotion. I don’t like seeing her like this.

“No police. We’ll deal with this our way.” I growl, and her wide eyes jolt up to meet mine in fear. I curse myself for not controlling my emotions. She needs gentle right now. I stroke her cheek. “You’re safe now. I got you. I didn’t mean to scare you. Arms up, precious. Let me take care of you.”

She nods her head and lifts her arms up and I peel the bloodied top off her and carefully place it in the bin bag I brought with me. I help her stand to take her jeans down and I pause when I see the open button, stained with red blood. It makes me want to roar in fucking anger at the thought that he’s touched her there. She doesn’t attempt to cover her naked chest; she just sits there staring off into space and shaking. Mills looks down at me, knelt between her legs. “I thought I wasn’t going to be able to fight him off.”

I hold her chin in my hand and look clearly into her eyes. “But you did, precious. You fought like the brave girl I know you are. Now come on, up and in the shower.” I straighten and wait for her to stand before placing my hand on her back and guiding her to the shower.

Mill’s stands, staring at the wall as I start up the shower. I test the water until it reaches a reasonable temperature. “In you get,” I gently urge, and she stops beside me, taking off her knickers and dropping them on the floor.

She stands under the water and tips her head back, closing her eyes. I pick up her underwear and place them in the bag. I whip my head back around to check on her on hearing her whimper, only to watch her sink to the shower floor and lose her shit. She lets it all out, her body shakes as she sobs. Silently, I strip out of my clothes, down to my boxers, and step into the shower. I gather her up under her arms and onto her feet, brushing her hair out of her face. She looks up at me and swallows, her big expressive eyes betraying all the pain and fright she feels right now. All I want to do is take her pain away.

“Let’s get you clean,” I croak, picking up the soap and a sponge and lathering it up before I lift her right arm and wipe away the flecks of blood. Mill’s stands there silently as I wash her, taking particular care to scrub her fingernails. When she’s clean, I grab the shampoo bottle and instruct her to turn around so I can wash her hair.

When she’s all clean, I move to open the shower door, and she places her hand on my arm, stopping me. “Kiss me,” she whispers.

I look down at her; waiting for me to press my lips against hers. “I don’t think this is what you need right now, Mills.”

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