I’m all out of time.
I need to make a decision.
“Search the room,” a voice orders just as I’m about to flatten myself against the carpet and shove my body under the bed, and something about it gives me pause.
That voice . . . it’s familiar.
But where do I know it from?
My mind struggles to keep up, and I stare at the nasty green carpet, racking my brain, trying desperately to put a face with the voice, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t quite get it. I’m sure it’s someone I know, but who? And how the hell did they find me here?
“Found her.” This time, the voice is much closer, and a pair of black boots step into my eye line at the end of the bed. I look up and gasp.
“Rajah?”
He flashes me one of his signature smiles and crosses his arms over his chest. “Shit, Hermoine. What’s a nice girl like you doing in a dump like this?”
It’s so normal and so Rajah that it catches me off guard after the agony I’ve been through these past few days, and something between a laugh and a sob bubbles out of me. The smile falls from his face instantly as he extends a hand to help me up. I watch him for a moment, my mind blank as I wipe a stray tear from my cheek before I place my hand in his and allow him to pull me to my feet. My body protests, and I hiss as a wave of pain washes through me. Someone else steps through the door of the motel room, and I look up.
“Falcon,” I sigh as soon as I lock eyes with him. His brow furrows as he looks me over for a moment before he charges across the room and wraps his arms around me. Pain floods my body, but I ignore it, preferring to soak in the comfort of his embrace. I don’t understand how he found me or why he even cared enough to hunt me down, but I’ve never been more grateful for anything in my entire life. For the first time since I was knocked unconscious outside the coffee shop, I felt safe.
CHAPTER TEN
Falcon
Anger radiates through every part of my body. I don’t know if I’ve ever been as angry as I am right now, but as I take Hermoine in, it only grows more rapidly. Her cheeks are swollen, and a mixture of purple and blue bruises mar her face. She even has bruises on her shoulders and around her neck. We’re still at this shitty fucking motel, but I’m taking her back to the clubhouse as soon as possible.
She hasn’t said too much to me yet, but I want her to talk to me. I need her to say something else. I need her to communicate because, right now, the silence is practically killing me.
“Kinetic, get the duffel bag from the truck,” I tell him, more thankful than ever that I decided to bring my truck out here while Rajah and Kinetic rode their bikes. I thought something nefarious was going on . . . because I knew they weren’t having tea parties and giving her a fucking spa day while she was here. At least I had the brains to think that bringing her some extra clothes would be a good option. The clothes she has on are raggedy and further signify she’s been put through hell here. I even have a blanket in there, so once Kinetic brings me the duffel bag, I open it up and take out the blanket, then walk over to her and wrap it around her shoulders.
“It’s time for us to hit the road, sweetheart,” I speak lowly and calmly to her, not wanting to upset her in any way. She’s already been through it, and I’m not trying to add more to her plate.
“Okay, I never want to see this place again,” Hermoine stammers as she holds the blanket around her shoulders and closes her eyes. I can’t imagine what she went through, and I doubt I could stomach knowing every detail, but maybe over time, Hermoine will trust me enough to tell me what happened here.
She isn’t the first woman we’ve pulled out of hostage situations before, and anything can happen, from torture to rape. As of right now, it looks like Hermoine was beaten. I just hope she wasn’t raped. I know the history of the Lucifer’s Heretic MC, and I know what they’re capable of. They’re sick bastards who have no understanding of what crossing the line is.
I walk with a hand behind Hermoine, and I grab the duffel bag as we exit the motel room. I open her door for her and extend my hand as she gets into the truck, then shut the door for her. As I walk around to my side of the truck, her eyes begin to get glassier. She’s fighting back the tears, but I don’t want her to fight them. If she wants to cry, then she should let it out. She should do whatever makes her feel better.
There’s no denying my feelings for this woman anymore. Yeah, I had an attraction to her before, but now it’s all-consuming. When I saw that video from her coffee shop with that fuckin’ biker hitting her in the head, I thought I was going to combust. I rushed back to the club and made sure everyone was in church when I got there because I couldn’t sit around and do nothing. I needed to do something better. I needed to get to her as soon as possible, and right now, I don’t feel like it was soon enough.
I slide the key into the ignition and start my truck up, then head down the road. I don’t say anything at first, but Hermoine turning her head to look at me causes me to look over at her. “Thank you for coming to get me.” With every word, emotion is evident, and it’s taking everything in me not to wrap my arm around her and pull her against me. I want to do it so badly, but the last thing I want to do is trigger her when she’s been through so much.
I swallow hard and put my eyes back on the road in front of me. “I would’ve searched the ends of the Earth for you if I had to. I hope you know that.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Hermoine’s lips quiver, and she sucks in the corner of her bottom lip. Fuck, I hate this. I hate how she’s hurting.
We keep driving, and the rumbling of bikes stays behind us. Eventually, we make it back to the clubhouse, and I pull my truck into the garage. Hermoine didn’t even ask to go back to her place instead of staying here, but I don’t think I’d even let her go back to her place. We didn’t get the guy who was responsible for this, and I don’t know if she was a random attack or if she was targeted. The safest place for her is to stay under my roof, where I can protect her.
I get out of the truck first and walk around to the passenger side door. I know Hermoine’s completely capable of getting out all by herself, but I want to help her as much as I can right now, so I open the door. She gets out, still holding the blanket over her shoulders. It covers most of her frame, stopping just below her butt.
God, all I want to do is pull her into my arms and tell her everything’s going to be all right. I know it would be too much right now, but it doesn’t make it any easier. We walk through the door that leads to the clubhouse, and then we’re in the main area. Everyone’s eyes turn to us, and then almost everyone rises and heads toward us. I shoot the guys all looks, a silent warning for them to back the fuck up, and they do . . . but that doesn’t stop Charlee.
“Hermoine, God, we were all so worried about you. I’m so glad you’re back safe and sound,” Charlee rambles out her words, and I know her heart’s in a good place, but I doubt Hermoine wants to be a chatty Cathy with anyone right now. Not after all she’s been through.
“Me too,” Hermoine replies lowly.
“Come on, let me take you to my bedroom. You can take a shower, change into some fresh clothes, and get some sleep,” I coax Hermoine into the idea, and she nods once, so I walk like we did earlier. My hand’s a few inches away from her back, and I lead her to my bedroom. When we’re at the door, I punch in the code, and the door pops open. I hold the door open for Hermoine and let her walk in first. She goes over to the chair I have near my bed and places the blanket down. My curtains aren’t drawn, so I shut the door and then head to the sliding glass door, pulling the curtains shut.