Hunted (Steel Kings MC Book 4) Page 3

  But this was different. This time, she wasn’t alone. Right now, anyway. Griffin stood in the doorway with her. He didn’t tug on her hand or try to convince her to go inside. He just stood there, waiting right along with her. She broke away from his gaze to look around the room. It was pretty full, but when she held her breath waiting for the panic to set in, it just didn’t. Doc, the other man who had been with them at the hospital, was standing in a corner of the room, quietly talking to a man with darker skin and hair. He was a little older, maybe thirty-five, forty.

  She kept her gaze moving, mindful not to stare. That was never allowed. Most of the men in the room were around her age, but some were maybe a decade older, a few likely even more, one older man already fully gray. He sat at a table playing a card game with another older man, a delightfully curvy woman by his side, laughing and playfully slapping him on the arm when he played a card she mustn’t have liked. Rachel dropped her eyes away. The very idea of behaving like that with whom she assumed was her husband still felt all kinds of wrong, even as the rational side of her brain told her she was the one reacting wrongly. But damn, the very sight had her feet shuffling in reverse.

  Just as she was about to tell Griffin she couldn’t do it, to turn around and run back to the van and ask to be driven back to the ER, something changed. A woman, younger this time, walked into the room. She was holding a tray with a bowl of soup and several thick slices of bread. Steam wafted from the top of the bowl, and the smell of something delicious reached Rachel. Chicken, vegetables, and broth, everything she remembered from when she was sick as a child and her nanny would bring her chicken soup. Despite her swooping anxiety, her stomach rumbled, giving her away. It had been hours since she’d last eaten, Gabriel interrupting evening meal preparations, and she needed the food. She looked over at the woman. Would there be a little more to share, perhaps, before she headed back to face whatever the future held? The woman looked up, a smile on her face matching most in the room. She placed the bowl across from her on a table and gestured toward Rachel, then stood, waiting.

  A rush of something flooded her heart, so foreign that at first she couldn’t place it. Excitement, gratitude, maybe even happiness? Probably all three and then some. It had been many months since someone had done something so simple like bring her food, and yet the gesture meant so much. Without conscious thought, her feet took a step forward, then another, until she was standing in front of the table. “Please, sit.” The woman said, gesturing again at the bowl. “There’s plenty more where that came from.” She looked around the room, her smile turning into a grin. “This lot go through enough to feed an army.”

  Rachel looked for Griffin, surprised to find him just to her right. He pulled out a chair and sat beside her, waiting some more. Now she was closer, she could see that she was right. Chicken noodle soup, the pasta floating in among tender vegetables and chunks of roast chicken. The bread was soft, almost like pillowing clouds sitting next to her plate, something she could still chew despite the pain blooming across her jaw. It was as if someone had prepared the meal just for her. Tears bloomed in her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away. Was that possible? Her stomach growled again, and Rachel could hold out no longer. “Thank you,” she whispered and then sat and picked up the waiting spoon.

  At the first bite, an amazingly rich flavor exploded over her tongue, and she had to force herself to chew and swallow, rather than shovel it into her mouth. Forgetting to be ladylike was also something that was punished. She may have been freed from Gabriel’s immediate influence for several months, but she had a feeling it would take a lot longer than that to break what was a lifetime of rules and training.

  How everyone here could even want to be in her presence, she didn’t know. A spoiled princess who was stupid enough to get herself hit. But somehow, they still seemed to care, seemed to want to help her. She could eat, at least, and then see what happened next.

  “I’m Callie,” the woman sitting across from her said. “It’s lovely to meet you, despite the circumstances.” A small grimace crossed her face, and Rachel’s heart hitched. Here it came, the disapproval, the judgment. Instead, Callie reached across and brushed a finger gently across her temple, the same place where Makenna had laid a row of stitches. It hadn’t felt any different from any other of the blows at the time, but at the hospital, she’d discovered that one of Gabriel’s punches had split the skin above her eye, causing blood to run down and ruin her shirt. Funny how that was what she cared about most right now, the shirt being ruined. She had precious few, accumulating only a small amount of new possessions in the months since she’d fled, and now Gabriel had ruined them all over again.

  Callie spoke again. “Makenna does good work. How are they feeling?” No harsh words, no judgment, just someone, again, asking how she was. She took Rachel’s hand and gave it a squeeze, and all in a moment, Rachel was undone. A rush of hot tears fell down her face. Angry tears. Gabriel taken so much from her. If she was ever going to have any sense of freedom, she needed to break her silence and accept help. She’d tried running, tried hiding away, and she’d failed. These people, the ones she’d been taught to be afraid of, had shown her more decency and kindness in the last few minutes that she’d ever experienced in a lifetime.

  The words tumbled out, almost tripping over themselves in the rush to escape. For the first time in years, Rachel talked. About her childhood, her marriage, about what Gabriel would do behind closed doors. Once she started, she found she couldn’t stop. After a few minutes, Griffin moved from hovering in the background to pulling up a chair next to Callie’s. Unlike Callie, he didn’t reach for Rachel, but his gaze stayed firmly on her face, a small frown on his becoming deeper the longer she talked.

  Rachel stared at his hands resting lightly on the tabletop. They’d felt so warm. When he’d allowed her to hold his hand, guiding her into the club, it had felt like maybe his hold was the only thing keeping from her sinking into panic. She’d expected the opposite, to freak at a man’s touch. Lord knows she’d had some embarrassing moments out in public when she’d been approached unexpectedly in recent months, but that didn’t happen with Griffin. Now, it was all she could do to stop herself from reaching across the table and taking his hand again, to feel that warmth, that safety. But she couldn’t. She had no idea if her touch would be welcomed, and there was no way she was risking upsetting him. Her mind told her he wouldn’t hurt her, but her heart was still too fragile to accept that. Instead, she picked up her soup spoon and took a shaky mouthful.

  Callie took that as her cue, quickly grabbing two more bowls for herself and Griffin. “Eat, honey,” Callie said. “It’ll do you good. Maggie’s soup is healing.” There the three of them sat, conversation dwindling down to chit chat, mostly between Callie and Griffin. Rachel watched, but sat mostly quietly. Her soul felt rough from her outburst, but also purged, like she could finally start afresh. Someone knew, and someone cared. It had shifted something inside of her, fear turning to hope. It was small, but it was there. For tonight, it would be enough.

  7

  Griffin

  Shakespeare understood the look Callie gave him, loud and clear. Rachel had fallen silent after spilling her heart and soul out to both of them. Listening to the things that she’d had to endure made his blood boil. People got in trouble for treating their pets like that, and yet Rachel’s asshole of a husband was seemingly allowed to carry on however the fuck he liked for years, likely trading on his reputation in “society.” Yet one more reason to hate all those uptight shitheads. He’d grown up in that environment, just as she had, and hated every minute of it. The Steel Kings had given him the freedom to be himself. They didn’t see him as “wasting” his intelligence just because he hadn’t gone on to become a doctor or a lawyer. He was happy as a clam hacking away and helping people who really deserved it, not catering to the whims of some pushy moron with enough money to buy respect.

  He leaned forward, moving closer to Rachel for the first time si
nce she’d walked into the club. He’d been so damned proud of her for taking that step that he’d been careful to keep his distance, not wanting to spook her. She needed to be there, needed somewhere to call her sanctuary, and he’d be damned if he took that from her with an ill-thought-out move. Still, he expected her to flinch, or to shuffle away, and so he kept a close eye on her the entire time. But she didn’t. Instead, she looked at him, a kind of haunted loneliness in her eyes. It damn near broke his heart. She deserved so much better. Hell, she deserved the world. He couldn’t fix everything, tonight anyway, but there was a small first step that he could. “Let me take your photo after dinner,” he said. Her eyebrows raised in surprise, and he smiled. “I can use it to make you a new ID. From there, we can start getting you set up in a new life, with a new name to keep you safe.”

  For a moment, the surprise didn’t leave her face. “You can do that?”

  He nodded. “I’d be glad to.”

  Levi, the club’s prez, appeared at his side, grinning. “He’s not kidding, darling,” he said to Rachel. “Man enjoys fucking around online so much, you’d be doing him a favor, getting you all set up.” He nodded in her direction. “Name’s Vlad. I’m the president of this motley bunch. Anything you need, you ask me. And I mean anything.” He turned back to Shakespeare. “Now, where’s she staying tonight? I’d offer the club, but with all the attention lately”—his face pulled into a grimace—“I’d rather she be somewhere absolutely safe.”

  He got it. The clubhouse was pretty much repaired and back to full working order since the attack from the Jokers, but everyone was still on edge. Having the clubhouse invaded like that had stepped way outside any supposed rules of engagement, and Sticks and Merc had been working hard since to beef up their protection. Things had been quiet again lately, but whether that meant their security was working or the Jokers had just gone to ground, Griffin didn’t know. With Rachel, there was no way he was chancing a damn thing. “She can come to my place,” he said. “Hannah will keep her safe.” Vlad grinned and Griff smiled at the confusion on Rachel’s face. She’d find out about Hannah soon enough, but one thing at a time. First, he had to convince her to go home with him. From the look on her face, that was going to be tough.

  “I can’t,” she blurted out, before he’d even said a word. Her cheeks colored with a blush so sweet, and Griff felt his cock stirring to life. He suppressed an eye roll. Seriously? Yeah, he hadn’t always made the best choices in relationships, but this whole situation screamed no go. Rachel was bruised, likely in quite a bit of pain despite her insistence that she was “fine,” and had just survived an encounter with the man she’d been running from for months. She needed compassion and help, not him getting a boner from staring at her, no matter how gorgeous she was. And she was that. Her beauty was still obvious despite the visible bruises. They didn’t do anything but make him admire her even more. It meant she was strong.

  “You need somewhere safe to sleep tonight, and the next. Give you time to recover. I know that Levi—and I—would rest easier knowing that you’re tucked away where that bastard can’t find you.”

  “But he couldn’t find me here, could he? I mean, he doesn’t even know you.”

  God, the look on her face. At the mention of her husband coming back, Rachel’s face had paled, like all the blood had rushed out at once. He already hated the man for laying a finger on her, but seeing the fear Rachel felt at the mention of even seeing him again? That man better pray he never crossed Griffin’s path. He’d make him feel every inch of what Rachel had been through, and then some more, before he finally put the bastard out of his misery.

  Callie’s foot nudged him under the table, and Griff quickly schooled his expression. No doubt his face had reflected the way his thoughts had been heading, like he was plotting how to murder someone. The last thing Rachel needed was for his dumb ass to freak her out all over again. But her coming back to his place? That he wouldn’t compromise on. He wasn’t about to send her off with someone she didn’t know. He may have only met her himself a few hours ago, but he wasn’t a complete stranger, the way most of the team would be. The only other person she’d really bonded with Callie, and there was no way Griff was sending her home with her, if Callie even went home. Most nights recently, Merc had spent the night at the clubhouse, a general keeping a very close eye on his soldiers, and Callie stayed right by his side. She was no pushover, but there was no way Merc would ever let his woman remain unprotected. Besides, even if they were home, the man could easily scare Rachel half to death unintentionally. Suffering from a severe case of PTSD when he’d first joined the club, Merc was doing a lot better these days, but he’d always have that dark side lurking just beneath the surface. He was a wonderful Sergeant at Arms, but Rachel needed calm, as much as she could get.

  Doc was the only other one she’d had any contact with, and he’d taken to sleeping in his basement makeshift consulting room since the attack. Griffin had been shot in the arm helping Doc defend the Kings that day and he wasn’t sure Jasper would ever fully forgive himself, even though it was a done deal as far as he was concerned. The man was his brother. Despite hating the guilt it caused Doc, Griff would do it all over again. He protected his family, and that was all there was to it. And right now, there was a new family member who needed help. He may have only met Rachel a few hours ago, but she’d been brought into the Steel Kings fold, and she needed protection. It was as simple as that.

  8

  Rachel

  Thoughts roared through Rachel’s head. Images of her husband, leering over her, his hand wrapped around an object, ready to smash it into her skull. She shivered. It was only her imagination, she knew that, but damned if she could get her body to stop reacting as if the whole thing was real. Gabriel had been more careful when they’d still been together, making sure not to hit her hard enough that anyone outside the family would suspect. Nothing visible, at least. But when she’d seen that look in his eyes tonight, all bets were off. If she’d had any lingering thought that he’d loved her at all, that he even felt a single thing other than hatred . . . it had been dashed in an instant with the look in his eyes. She’d waited for that final, devastating blow as she’d lain there on the floor, certain that she was playing out her last moments. But it had never come.

  She frowned. What exactly had happened between when she hit the floor and the paramedic had brought her back around? The entire moment was blank in her mind, but the more she thought on it, the more her brain tried to fill the gap, each time with a new story that still only ended up in one place. At her death, her skull bashed in, or her ribs kicked so hard one pierced a lung. Maybe a slow death, bleeding deep from internal injuries, left there to bleed out on her kitchen floor. She had no friends, no contact with any family. She hadn’t dared. No one would have missed her for days.

  “He won’t find you anywhere. I promise you that.”

  She looked up in surprise at the voice. Rachel had been so deep inside her head that she had entirely forgotten where she was. Her hands clenched. That wasn’t safe. She couldn’t ever ignore her surroundings. Her frown deepened as she ran the words through her mind again, but they failed to make any sense. Griffin leaned forward, gently resting a hand over hers. He didn’t pick her hand up, nor squeeze it, just offered the comfort from the touch alone. “Your husband,” he said. “He won’t find you, not as long as I’m here.”

  Oh. He’d offered to help. All of them had. Offered to help her escape the monster. God, the whole thing felt like a dream, like another story she’d imagined in her head, all hazy. She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. Maybe the doctor had been wrong. Maybe she was concussed. That would explain a lot. But when she opened her eyes, Griffin was still sitting there, still resting his hand lightly on hers. “You can do that?” She asked. “For how long?”

  There was that smile again, casual, his lips tipping up on one side. “For as long as you need. Long enough to get you a new identity, or to help bring him down
. Whatever you need.”

  Her heart sped up again, pounding against her ribs as her lungs felt as if they’d seized up. Take him down? He meant officially? Make a police report, go to court, everything? No, she couldn’t do that. She wasn’t ready. Her hand drifted to her stomach. She needed to keep her child safe from the monster, and that meant getting far, far away.

  “Come on,” the man they called Shakespeare said, standing. His voice jarred her out of her thoughts and back to reality. He offered her a hand to help her up. “Let’s get you back to my place. You need some rest.”

  Absently, she nodded. Going home with this strange man didn’t seem like a great idea. It didn’t take a genius to realize just how terrifying he was. How terrifying they all were. But as she looked around the room, seeing the men and women all watching her, none of them scared her nearly as much as Gabriel. They were big and tough and mean, but she didn’t see the same cruelty in their eyes she always saw in Gabriel’s.

  Their eyes were softer. Even though she knew any of them could have killed her in a heartbeat, they didn’t exude that aura of malice she always felt any time Gabriel walked in the door. Something inside her said she really would be safe with these people, they’d protect her. For all their hard outer shells, they weren’t bad people. It was a stark contrast to the smiling viper that was Gabriel.

  So, she let Griffin lead her out of the clubhouse, back to his car. Even walking the short distance through the parking lot, her eyes darted everywhere, expecting to see Gabriel jumping out of a shadow after her. No doubt he was furious by now, trying to figure out how she’d slipped away from him. She wanted to believe he’d just cut his losses and let her go, but she knew the truth. There was no way Gabriel was going to stop chasing after her. He wouldn’t stop until she was back with him or dead. Those were the only two options.