Tempered Steel (Steel Riders MC Book 2) (12 page)

It took several false starts. The words choked her, and for a moment, Cyn was sure she’s going to puke on them.

“I did it,” she said in a hoarse voice.

“In the clearing. Derrick took you with him,” Cyn pressed gently.

Daphne shuddered. “You knew?”

“No,” Cyn told her in a soft voice, “not until you said what you said about doing it for me. But then all of the puzzle pieces Hank described about the crime scene made perfect sense. I still love you. I’m still not leaving you.”

“Are you going to tell the police?”

“Oh, fuck no. You saved my life. Hell, you saved the lives of most of the people in the club. On top of that, the man who attacked me was the man you would have met, and he would have killed you both. There is no doubt about that. Derrick was dead either way. The only one who had a chance of living was you, and you took it. I thank god you had the strength to do it, too.”

Daphne sat up and looked at her through watery eyes. “You’re sure about that? Really sure?”

“No doubt at all. His name was Ernando, Ernando Delvalle.”

“Yes.” Daphne nodded. “That’s what Derrick said while we were out there. Ernando was going to bring him $100k in cash, and then we were riding out of here in style.”

Cyn shook her head slowly. “Never would have happened. Ernando was an enforcer for the Ruiz Cartel, a killer. Derrick was nothing to him. He would have gotten out of his truck, looked around, saw that it was a good place, and before Derrick could say a word, he would have shot him. He might have raped you first, but you would have been next. Then he would have taken the boxes and drove back to his place. He would have read through the files, found out about Hank, and then he would have begun killing everyone in those files. Everyone.”

“Derrick said that too,” Daphne choked out. “That every one of them was going to pay. They were all going to die. All of them. That’s when I asked about you. And he said definitely you, since you were Hank’s little whore.”

Daphne looked down at her hands. “So, I went to the car and got the gun out of the glove box. He was still babbling about how there wasn’t going to be a club anymore, and it was all going to burn. I told him I loved him, and then I shot him.”

They held each other’s hands, leaning into each other like the living victims of a storm or refugees of a war. Survivors, both of them.

“Come to bed with me. I want to hold you, baby,” Cyn told her, and she urged her by pulling her hand.

Daphne followed. Cyn took off her shirt and then pulled Daphne’s off her. She lay her down and held her, soothing her body with deep loving strokes. She told her she loved her. They stayed like that until mid-afternoon.

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