Knight (38 page)

Fucking Lyn and her goddamned plans.

The van rolled to the road. I reached for my cell—dialing a number I remembered from rote memory. The desert spat us onto the highway as the check engine, tire pressure, and temperature lights flicked on.

We just needed to get five miles into the goddamned city.

To the hospital.

Keep answered on the second ring. I didn’t let him talk, just shouted into the phone.

“Call the hospital. Tell them we had a problem and we’re bringing him in.”

Keep swore. “Who?”

“Thorne.”

“Son of a bitch. Who’s
we
?”

“Me a one hell of a ghost.”

I ended the call and pitched the phone onto the seat. I twisted, but I didn’t like the scene behind me any more than the fading red and blue lights I’d have to lose on the way to the hospital.

“How is he?” I asked.

Brew only grunted. Worse than I thought.

We’d either arrive to the hospital with a corpse or the catalyst for another fucking war.

And I was tired of tasting blood.

Trouble. Have an injury. On our way.

The text warned that someone went down.

There was only one reason Luke wouldn’t name the man, and that was the woman sitting at my bedside, waiting for her own news.

It wouldn’t be good, for her or us.

The doctors came and went, the drugs settled, and I planned the best way to leave everything behind and run.

If Thorne died, if Anathema lost their president to The Coup, it wouldn’t matter if they voted before leaving to take out Priest. Luke would answer for all the bad blood that drained.

Thorne was my friend. Anathema was a second family.

I loved Rose like she was my own sister.

And I worked so goddamned hard to create Sorceress, to make a club where I could dance around the edge of the law and feel that rush of excitement, danger, and lust. 

But I’d leave it all for Luke.

I had no idea how to run with a leg still swollen, ugly, and bruising. The doctors wouldn’t cast it until the swelling dissipated. That would work in my favor. There were probably a dozen hospitals on the road that could treat a broken leg. I’d find a way to heal.

But the surgery the doctors proposed…that was a problem.

A clean break was a clean break, but it’d heal a hell of a lot better with an ugly scar and some screws stuffed inside, especially once they learned I was a dancer and relied on my body.

Without the surgery, they couldn’t guarantee the same strength or stamina I once had.

I couldn’t worry about whatever fucked-up identity crisis would come of my…
limp
. I had to keep Luke and me alive long enough to escape.

The drugs choked me up. I pushed the phone away. Rose stood. She surveyed our assortment of drinks, magazines, and snacks. It all went untouched.

“Can I get you something?” She handed me the remote. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

It would. I hid the phone and shook my head. I couldn’t worry her just yet.

“I’m fine—”

A blonde woman knocked at the door, peeking inside with a cutie smile that could charm a drink from any lonely man sitting at a bar. She dressed in dusty jeans with a pink scarf styled over her neck, and she wiggled her ass like she belonged on stage.

A girl with that much personality would make even my best customers go broke, if she didn’t drain Brew’s wallet first.

Martini was a long way from home—wherever she called it these days. She didn’t belong in the hospital either, especially since I knew which man gave her the ride. 

“Hey, Lyn.” She nibbled on the stems of her sunglasses, crinkling her nose as she studied my leg brace. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

Rose’s eyes widened. She leapt up, hugging the untimely visitor. Martini winked, but she let Rose go as she bolted to the hallway. Checking for someone else. The door closed only after she was certain no one else was coming.

“Martini, what the hell are you doing here?” She asked.

I chastised her. “Rose, is that anyway to speak to your step-momma?”

Martini rolled her eyes, a trait that probably earned too many smacks on her ass. Didn’t stop her from doing it, but that was because she liked it too much. At least as much as Brew liked dishing it out.

“I heard you got hurt,” Martini said. “Would have brought flowers, but I…didn’t have much room to carry them on the bike.”

“Is…” Rose bit her lip. “Is
he
here?”

Martini’s glance darted to mine, and the silver slip wasn’t quick enough to hide from Rose. Her smile might have flirted the lie to anyone else, but she didn’t need to worry with Rose.

“Yeah. Brew’s coming.”

“But…” Rose clutched her phone. “Is he crazy? He can’t be here. If Thorne sees him? Or the club? Hell, if
Luke
sees him we’re dead.”

Martini was a damn good liar, but she had the same weakness as Brew—confronting Rose. I wasn’t about to put her in the position. I pointed to the chair.

“No one knows who Martini is,” I said. “She’s safe. Sit down. Brew knows what he’s doing.”

“What is going on?” Rose didn’t immediately roll over. I hated that I’d helped the girl find her freaking backbone. “Lyn, did something happen? Christ, you’ve been sitting in this damn bed. How the
hell
do you know more than me?”

Martini quieted, probably the only time the woman ever stayed silent. I reached for Rose.

That Darnell attitude snapped. She pulled away from the bed, grabbed her cell, and marched to the door.

“Don’t you
dare
,” she said. “Don’t you
ever
hide information from me. I’m the goddamned queen of this club. I need to know exactly what happened.”

She yanked on the door, crashing it against the wall. Her voice sharpened.

“If someone got hurt, if someone is in trouble, I gotta know. I have to take care of the girls, get the money for bail, make the arrangements if something goes south. I’m not some fucking little girl anymore. I can handle it.”

I was sure she could, I just hated to be the one to tell her.

And I didn’t have to.

The bastard bearing the bad news shadowed the Valley in more trouble.

Brew blocked her path, preventing Rose from bumbling into the hall. Her shock flashed into a grin—something too sweet for the man who consistently broke his daughter’s heart. She launched into his arms and wound herself tight against him.

Brew hugged her with only one arm.

The other covered in too much blood.

She stared up at him, eyes wide. “What are you doing here—”

“It’s Thorne, Bud.” His voice lowered, a quiet baritone that never did soften enough, even in her presence. “He got hurt.”

Rose stepped away. She didn’t crumble. Didn’t cry. She swallowed, but the only tears were mine, threatening to spill because of all the damned drugs swimming in my head.

She should never have had to ask the question. “Is…he alive?”

“Barely. Got him here before he crashed. Docs have him now.”

Rose shrugged away both his hands and Martini’s gentle touch.  “I should go down. Talk to the doctors. I have his…his information.”

“He’s in surgery now, Bud.”

There was one tear. She brushed it with a quick hand. “I should be there in case…where’s the rest of Anathema?”

“The waiting room.”

“Did you find Keep?”

Brew nodded. “Yeah. I saw him.”

“What about…” Rose’s voice quieted as Luke waited in the entry way. “Knight?”

Brew’s turn to hesitate. “Yeah. Saw him too.”

Martini had the sense to check the situation and realize it was spiraling out of control. She rubbed Rose’s shoulder.

“Come on. I’ll take you down to the waiting room. Keep you company.”

Rose tensed as Luke rubbed the blood from his shirt and pants. God, he was covered in it, and the only reason my heart still beat was because it wasn’t any of his.

It didn’t make a difference though. No one looked very optimistic.

“You got Thorne out?” Rose approached Luke. “You and Brew?”

Luke nodded. “Yeah.”

I waited for it. Tensed, even though the pain-killers destroyed every chance I had at hiding the stress and uncertainty twisting my insides.

But Rose wasn’t vengeful like Blade. She didn’t have Keep’s ruthlessness or Brew’s temper.

She was a queen. Balanced and graceful and accepting of the truth—even when it didn’t give her a villain to blame.

“Thank you, Luke.”

Martini flashed Brew a smile and offered me a thumbs up for my choice in Luke. The door closed behind them. Brew leaned against the counter, Luke at my side.

“You want to tell me why you aren’t dead?” Luke asked.

Brew smirked. “Thorne’s gun pulled a little to the right.”

“And that blonde?”

“Martini.”

“She’s too young for you.”

Brew wasn’t shamed. “Only as old as you feel, and I feel pretty damn good with her on my lap.”

Men
.

I struggled to sit up. Luke pointed at me to stay still. For once, I was likely to take his order, but life challenged us more. The brace could stay on. I wasn’t sure how I’d get my pants on over it.

Maybe a skirt?

“Martini’s the one who gave me the intel on Temple,” Luke said.

“Lot of people died for that. I thought you could put it to good use.”

“Priest had other ideas.”

Brew nodded. “Coup split?”

“Down the middle.”

“Go fucking figure. How the hell did you sweet talk Thorne into helping you?”

“Mutual understanding. Temple’s been after Blade’s killer for a while.”

I ripped the IV from my vein. Luke swore, but I aimed a finger at him. “Both of you have it wrong. Temple was trying to kill Blade and anyone close to him. A little insurance for their club. Blade was a fucking
rat
for ATF.”

Brew crumbled, just like Keep, torn between defending a monster and protecting the badass who made them into the patched men they were.

“He was a
traitor
?”

“For the past
fifteen
years. They arrested him on…” The drugs made me soft. I hated to cause him pain. “On…child pornography charges. From when Rose was little. They cut him a deal to keep tabs on Temple.”

Brew rubbed his face. Mentioning Rose’s history sent him down a bad path. He darkened, stayed silent. I knew he’d never forgive himself for what happened.

Luke frowned. “So why did Temple want to kill us?”

“They wanted to kill
Blade
. Since we got so involved, Temple worried he told us all the secrets he collected about them and ATF. It didn’t matter if we worked with or against Blade. They were scorching the earth and eliminating anyone who might have heard him squeal and had evidence against them.”

“Jesus.” It’d take him a while to process how badly Blade betrayed everyone. “So you made the deal to give Priest to ATF?”

“I’m a woman of many talents.”

“Most of Temple showed up to help.”

I arched my eyebrow. “Sounds like Agent Greene is gonna get in trouble.”

Brew exhaled. His hair started to gray, but he’d salt and pepper before he turned forty. “I should find Bud. She’s gonna need more help than just Keep to get through this.”

“You’re staying?” I asked. “What about…?”

“Anathema?  Hell if I know. But my daughter needs me. I gotta do something.”

“If they know you’re alive—”

Brew snorted. “You think me showing up is gonna cause more of a shit storm than partying with The Coup in Temple’s warehouse? Christ. I know what it’s like choking on a secret. Ain’t healthy for anyone or any club.” He nodded to me. “Sorry about the leg.”

“At least it’s not my tits.”

“Shame they couldn’t wire your mouth shut.” He snorted, slapping Luke on the shoulder. “Glad someone gets use out of it now.”

The door closed behind Brew. I wasted no time. The brace squeezed my leg, and I struggled to get out of bed. I moved entirely too quickly. Luke didn’t have to push me into bed.

The pain did it for me.

“What the hell are you doing?” He threatened me with the call button for a nurse. “Christ, Lyn, I’ll find someone to sedate your ass—”

“You know damn well what will happen if Thorne dies,” I said. “We have to be ready to run.”

He still wasn’t moving. “You think the club will turn?”

“I think everyone is going to howl for blood.”

His eyes darkened, that same noble blue that poisoned us with fairy tales and fables. “I gotta end this war, Lyn.”

“Don’t be stupid. Stop trying to be the hero.”

“What else am I supposed to be? I can’t keep playing the villain. It’s not me. It’s never been me.”

“They don’t see it that way. Downstairs is a club, a brotherhood of men, who are going to tear themselves apart if their leader is killed. Especially if it was because of The Coup. Especially if the
traitor
was there when it happened.”

“So you want to run?”