It was why I’d picked up all that craft shit. Because my plan was to get her out of Raúl’s grips by whatever means necessary. Then after that, she was going to finally be able to have a life on her own terms. It would be nice for her going into that having at least a little sense of self.
No, she didn’t have skills with knitting.
And the thriller book made her anxious.
They were small things, but sometimes small things could be just as important as the big shit. It was slowly helping her build a picture of herself.
I couldn’t help but wonder what she envisioned for her future now that she actually had one of her own. Did she have some secret dream? Did she want to travel the world, or just have a nice, comfy little home to call her own? Did she want animals? Did she want to adopt kids? What did she see herself doing for work?
They were burning questions in my mind, but I tried not to burden her with them too much, figuring she was overwhelmed enough with the changes going on in her life.
Hell, even little shit like experiencing foods she hadn’t had in years was proving difficult for her. Her frail body, so used to surviving on very small, very low-fat and bland foods, hadn’t quite been ready for the greasy pepperoni pizza she’d ordered on the second night, sending her running into the bathroom, and throwing it back up.
She had a lot going on.
I didn’t need to burden her with what six months, a year, or five years down the line might look like for her.
I needed to get a grip anyway.
Because, sooner or later, I needed to figure out how to handle her situation. Which, I had to admit, wasn’t going to be easy.
I’d been in prison with quite a few cartel members. I knew how protected their leaders were. I knew how ruthless their men were.
If Raúl was as upset as Abigail thought he would be about her escaping, then I had no doubt that he would leave no stone unturned. Which meant he was coming. And I was wholly unprepared for him.
Yes, sure, Fallon said I had the backing of the club if I needed them. But I also didn’t want to put all of them in danger. Most of them had wives and kids. The ones who didn’t, had the hope of them in the future. I didn’t want to risk that for them all.
I needed to be smart about this.
But at the end of the day, there was only one way this could go.
Raúl had to die.
As did any of his men who were loyal enough to give a shit about Abigail after he was gone.
I mean, yeah, I’d been a criminal my entire life. But that didn’t mean I was capable of pulling off a plan like that without a huge amount of forethought. And, yeah, I was probably going to need some backup as well.
I knew if I asked, Dezi would be game. Voss, I had a feeling, was the kind of man you could tap the shoulder of for something as crazy and dangerous as this as well.
I didn’t know how I felt about asking any of the core “family” guys, though. Fallon, Finn, Seth, and Valen.
Which left me at a disadvantage, numbers-wise.
So, yeah, I needed to think.
The problem was, having Abigail around was making it difficult.
So when Dezi showed up to hang with her while I headed to the clubhouse to pull my weight around there, a part of me was almost relieved to get a little space to think straight.
“Brought her more donuts,” Dezi declared when I met him out in the hall.
“Good,” I said, nodding. “Have her pace herself, though,” I advised. “If she eats too much too fast, she gets sick. She needs to keep all the calories down that she can. What?”
“Are you a body double? Where’s my calorie-conscious Zaddy at?”
“That’s because you want to lose weight,” I reminded him, shaking my head. “She needs to gain some.”
“So, if I’m reading into this, your girl in there came from somewhere that she wasn’t being fed.”
“Not enough anyway. And she’s not mine,” I insisted.
“Sure sure. You all say that.”
“Who is all of us?”
“Oh, you know. Each one of you who suddenly has a chick around, but says it’s not like that. Until, a couple weeks later, it is exactly like that. All of you.”
“She’s an old friend,” I insisted. “We lost touch. During that time period, she got wrapped up with the kind of bastard who likes to control every aspect of a woman’s life. She got free of them, and didn’t know anyone else in this sort of lifestyle, so she came to me. That’s it.”
“Mmhmm,” Dezi said, unconvinced. “Does she cook?” he asked, forever thinking with his stomach.
“When she was married, she cooked every day.” Three times a day, in fact.
“Like food-food, or that shit you eat?” Dezi asked, making a dry laugh escape me.
“Arguably, the ‘shit’ I eat is the only real food-food,” I said, shaking my head. “But I dunno. Normal shit, I imagine.”
“Think she will cook when you move into the apartment?” he asked.
“I don’t know. But don’t ask her if she is going to cook for you someday. The last thing she needs is another man expecting shit from her.”
“Bad, huh?” he asked, looking past me at the door.
“Worse than you’re thinking,” I told him.
To that, he nodded as a muscle started to tick in his jaw. “Well, when you’re ready to remove his head from his torso, let me know. Until then, if you need someone to plump someone up, you know I’m your man,” he said, taking the key from my hand.
“I should just be a few hours,” I told him.
“Should be able to fit two or three meals into that,” Dezi said. “I’m gonna need Zaddy Bootcamp after all this is over,” he added.
“Why? So you can quit after two days again?” I asked, already heading down the hall.
Was a part of me worried about leaving her alone? Yeah, of course. But the fact of the matter was, if there was anyone she would be safe with, it was Dezi.
Any of the princesses who’d seen him get into a fight swore the man didn’t feel pain.
I thought it was worse than that. It was almost like he enjoyed the pain. He took punches with a smile. It was some shit to behold.
I couldn’t even begin to unpack the kind of baggage that quirk must have come with.
See, the thing with Dezi—and to an extent, Voss and even Brooks—was that most of us had no idea what their stories were. Chances were that Reign and Fallon knew just because they made sure all brothers got vetted before they could even prospect. But the rest of us were in the dark about what kinds of skeletons were in their closets, what kind of ugly lives they’d lived before they found themselves in Navesink Bank.
What made Dezi so violent, yet such a puppy?
Why was Brooks so fucking anal about everyone following the rules?
Why was Voss so tight-lipped and impenetrable?
I didn’t know.
Maybe time would tell.
Until then, I was happy to call them brothers. And to be able to lean on them when I needed help.
“What?” I asked when I got off my bike and saw Seth and Finn standing out front, barely able to contain their delight—judging by the wicked light in their eyes, it was probably delight at someone else’s problem. “Is Hope here to scream at Fallon again?” I asked.