The sound of voices woke me again the next morning. Frankie’s face was in front of mine, my hands clasped in his, though he was still sound asleep. There was no one behind me, but I looked over my shoulder and saw Beau, Dylan and Branch having a quiet, heated discussion. Branch was shirtless, but he was still in his jeans and his socks. His hair looked mussed, and he had dark bags under his eyes.
“I don’t give a shit what they want,” he gritted out between his teeth. Beau shrugged. “Me either, but it's up to her. You try that overbearing shit with her, Branch, she’s going to run in the other direction. I know you want to protect her, but Nugget is the strongest person we know. She can handle it, or we will handle it for her. But it's her choice.”
Dylan shrugged. “I don’t have the history with her like you guys do, but even I know she isn’t gonna just slink away. They want to meet with her and kick her off the tour? Then she’ll go out swinging. And we’ll have her back. They aren’t going to sweep this under the rug by flushing her dreams, Branch. We won’t let that happen.”
Damn. Frankie’s arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me back into his body. “Not gonna lie, Querida, these guys are growing on me. Maybe we should keep them,” he laughed softly.
God, I wished I could.
Their eyes all moved to the bed, and I was the sole focus of so many intense gazes. I smiled softly, the emotions in my chest too big for me to contain. “Hi.”
Branch came over and climbed into bed with me. He looked exhausted. “Have you had any sleep?” I asked, reaching up to stroke his face.
He gave me a brief glimpse at his dimples. “I’m fine. How are you feeling?”
My face was sore, as was my throat and head. But I could almost pretend it was a bad dream right now. So I shrugged. “Okay.”
He nodded, turning his face so he could kiss my palm. I looked over his shoulder at the rest of the guys. “You going to tell me what's going on?”
Dylan winced, and Branch’s eyes grew stormy.
“Junior had to have reconstructive surgery on his jaw. His father is on a warpath, saying that he must have found you with one of the other riders-” his eyes flicked to Frankie, who snorted derisively.
“He means that Senior said one of us dirty Brazilian riders, but not quite so nicely,” Frankie said, the anger in his voice basically a living thing.
Branch nodded, though he looked just as pissed. “Anyway, he convinced the management that Junior must have been protecting your honor and that Miguel needed to be kicked off the circuit and sent back to Brazil. They all flew here for an emergency briefing. They want to call you in to get your side of the story, and Dylan thinks they’ll probably try and kick you off the circuit, using the assault as the reason. That it isn’t safe for you.”
My top lip pulled back and I snarled. “Because all men are animals that can’t control themselves?” I was furious. How dare they? “Why Miguel?”
Branch shrugged. “He’d been there watching Junior, making sure he didn’t slither off when the cops turned up. They decided that he must have done it, even thought there was literally nothing incriminating. His hands were clean, hell even his boots were clean. But they want a scapegoat.”
Rage replaced the pain. It replaced the fear and the terror and the horror of yesterday. I became a livid being of rage and retribution. I climbed over Branch and got out of the bed, slamming into the bathroom.
“Tessa, what are you doing?” Beau yelled through the door. “Are you okay?”
I stopped peeling off my clothes. I opened the door and stuck my head back around. “No Beau. I am not okay. I am pissed. I am beyond pissed. I am livid.”
Beau looked at me and grinned. “Get ‘em, girl.” As I slammed the door shut, I heard Beau tell Branch. “Told you she wouldn’t take this shit lying down. She is going to make those rich old fuckers wish they’d never been born.”
I grinned, but it wasn’t a pleasant expression. From his tongue to God's ears.
We all climbed out of Beau’s truck, and I held my head high. I wasn’t wearing makeup to reduce the appearance of the painful bruises on my face. I wasn’t wearing my hat to hide my eyes. I’d brushed out my hair until it was a golden halo and clasped my mama’s cross around my neck. I was righteous vengeance.
The guys stood behind me. They had my back, even Dylan.
As I strode into the temporary offices of the WBRP, my blood was well and truly up. “Fuck you are beautiful,” Dylan groaned. “Honestly, you looking like an avenging angel makes me hard as a rock.”
Branch slapped the back of his head, and I smiled. We’d all avoided the topic of sex, because, well you know why. But the fact that Dylan didn’t look at me like I was damaged and fragile made me smile. I winked at him over my shoulder, and everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.
A part of me didn’t doubt they would still be mine even if I said I never wanted to have sex again. And that was an overwhelming notion for another day.
As we got to the elevator, we ran into Miguel coming out. My feet slowed and stuck to the floor as I had a brief flashback. But I gritted my jaw and squeezed Frankie’s hand. Miguel stopped when he saw me, his face full of rage and sorrow.
I raced across the space between us and wrapped my arms around him. “I’m so damn sorry. So, so, sorry.”
Miguel patted my back. “We’ve talked about this menina. This isn’t your fault.”
I pulled back and looked at his haggard expression. “What did they say?”
“They paid me out to leave. Hush money to retire early. Oh they didn’t word it like that, but that is what it is.”
I frowned. “Did you tell them to shove it up their fat, entitled asses?”
Miguel grinned, but shook his head. “No. I took the money. A payout is better than the off chance I will make it to the final. There is also the off chance that I’ll die. My wife would be happier with this outcome; she wanted me to retire two years ago. I am done with this sport. I just want to go home and enjoy my bebês and my family and my ranch without worrying about all this.” He waved a hand to encompass everything. Sadness washed over me and it must have shown in my face. “Now stop that. This isn’t a bad outcome. We both know that if I had told them to, err, stuff it up their fat entitled asses?” I grinned and he smiled back. “If I told them that, they would have made sure that I went home penniless at the end of the year. This way I get paid, they feel like they’ve won something.” He looked me over. “Though I’m not sure they are aware of the storm coming, Menina. You let them have it.”
I hugged him once more, and this time he hugged me back. “You bet your ass. If I can do anything for you, you let me know. Promise?”
“Sim, yes. I promise.”
I let him go and he wandered over to say something to Frankie. He said goodbye to the other guys as well, and Branch had a short, intense conversation that had Miguel raising his eyebrows. Hmm, I’d get that out of him later.
Too soon, Miguel was gone and my rage had gone from a simmering bubble to an all out boil. The elevator moved too slowly for me, but Dylan was on his phone talking to a lawyer. He leaned over and kissed my cheek, indicating a park bench just outside the front doors. He covered the speaker of his phone. “I’ll wait here. I’m going to call my sponsors, and anyone else I can think of.”