I hand her the clothes. “Get dressed.”

She takes them from me, our fingers scraping over each other’s as I hand them over. Our eyes meet and I see the heat in her gaze, but there’s something else there. Fear. Is she scared of me?

I shake myself and step out of the bathroom, leaving her to dress. I should leave the bedroom, but I sit on the edge of the mattress. I need to make sure she’s okay before I go.

When she steps out of the bathroom, I can’t stop my gaze from taking her in. My clothes are, as I thought, too big for her and hang off her, but at least they’re not blood-spattered. I like the way she looks in them.

“What should I do with my suit?”

“It’ll be taken care of.” One of the bunnies will pick it up tomorrow.

She doesn’t move, and we have a slightly awkward stand off for a moment, before I clear my throat. “I’ll let you rest.”

She smiles at me and I mirror it. Then I turn and get the hell out of that room before I do something I might regret.

5

Lucy

As soon as Nox leaves me alone, I let my shoulders sag. Lying makes me feel like I’m crawling in dirt. I hate it, and I hate that Isaac made me this person. It’s not who I am. I’m not deceitful. I don’t like to lie to the people I care about, but what choice do I have? The truth will put me in more danger, especially with the Sons. Rav will never let me leave if he knows the truth of who I am, and the kindness Nox has shown me will become a distant memory. These men are lethal to those who cross them.

Leaving won’t be easy. I have ties here now, people I care about. I stayed in London too long. I let people in, I let my guard down. I should have left months ago—years ago, if I’m being honest—before I started viewing this as home and Sasha and Lily-May as family. Now, the thought of going makes my heart shatter into a million pieces.

But the choice is no longer mine and I hate that Isaac is still controlling me, my life.

To stay puts everyone in jeopardy. I know what kind of man Isaac is, and he’s the type who will punish those who helped me, even if they did it unknowingly. I’ve seen the type of punishment he doles out. I’ve experienced it first-hand. I can’t bring that down on these people.

I tug on my bottom lip as I sit on the edge of the bed, contemplating which path to take, which has the best prospect of keeping me out of Isaac’s grasp while causing the least amount of collateral.

I shouldn’t stay, but I’m too scared to leave. The club is offering me protection, so I’ll take it while I work out a plan. I’m safer here than I would be out there on my own. I can’t protect myself the way the Sons will, and given Isaac’s resources, I need all the help I can get, but it’s not a long-term solution. When the club finds out my truth, I’ll need to be far away from here, but it’ll give me the time I need to plan my escape. I can’t become a bargaining chip in a war between the club and Isaac.

I dig my hands into Nox’s hoodie, relishing the warmth of the garment as a chill sweeps over me. I can’t believe Nox showered me. I wouldn’t have expected it from a man like him, but he was so gentle with me. It doesn’t fit at all with the darkness that lies in his eyes, a darkness I can tell he tries to keep buried.

These men all have demons. I’ve seen the pain men who have monsters in their souls are capable of inflicting. I’ve dated the devil before and come out with the scars to prove it, but I have my own demons that follow my heels, my own secrets that have the power to destroy everything they touch.

If I’m being honest with myself, what I saw in Nox’s eyes terrified me. Want, need, desire. It’s been a long time since I saw those feelings directed at me. Even worse, I share those feelings, and I’m terrified of what it means. There’s also a part of me that wants to feel again, that wants to no longer be the broken girl who is scared of letting someone get too close. There’s a part of me who wants to just throw caution to the wind and take what I want for a change—even if it’s a complication.

I rake my fingers through my damp hair, wincing at the pain across my chest, neck and head, and try to slow my racing mind. Today, I could have died. I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams, but I need to keep my head on straight. Breaking down in the bathroom was a weakness I can’t afford, but I’m exhausted, the adrenaline dump leaving me a trembling mess. I probably should sleep, but even the thought of closing my eyes makes my stomach turn. Every time I do, I see the bullet going into Hank’s head. Unpleasantness swamps my belly at the memory.

Sleep isn’t a good idea. Aside from the waking nightmares I’m experiencing, I need to be alert, ready for anything. I need to get the hell gone before the Sons discover Hank was an upstanding member of society, yet my history is spotty and filled with holes. Panic makes my thoughts difficult to grasp hold of, makes it hard to formulate a plan.

I took a hell of a hit against the airbag and my chest feels like one solid bruise. Every time I move my arms, a shot of pain is fired across my upper torso. I also have a blinding headache that is not helping with thinking. Whizz had muttered something about potential concussion, but I hadn’t really been listening to the club’s doctor to know if I should be worried about it.

My eyes feel heavy, and my brain is throbbing. I lie back on the pillows, holding my hand against my skull as if I can block out the pain and I blink up at the ceiling. The pounding in my head gets worse, so I close my eyes to stave off the pain and feel myself drifting.

I jolt awake at the sound of a bang. Fuck. I fell asleep. I sit up so fast the room rolls around me and it takes me a moment to regain my equilibrium. As soon as everything stills, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, my heart thumping in my chest and panic digging its icy claws into my spine.

Listening, I don’t hear the noise again, but I grab a lamp from the bedside table. It’s not much of a weapon, but it’ll do in a pinch. A fist bangs off the wood and I jump out of my skin until a voice says, “Lucy, it’s Whizz. You in there?”

It’s not quite relief that floods me, but it’s something close. I place the lamp back on the table and move to the door, opening it to see the club’s doc.

He peers at me clinically. “You look like shit.”

I snort at his words. “Some bedside manner you’ve got there, Whizz.”

I keep my tone light, something I really am not feeling. It’s just another mask to hide behind.

“You rattled your brain in that accident. I need to check nothing has come loose.”

He directs me back to the bed and orders me to sit, which I do. Then he shines his little light in my eyes again. I wince, the brightness not helping my headache.

“Any pain, nausea?”

“Both.”

I’m no stranger to pain. I’ve lived with my share of it over the years, but the fact Whizz is asking it makes me worry. Did I do myself irreparable damage?

“Your eyes look clear, but I still want to keep an eye on you. I’ll be in to check you again in an hour.”

“Do I have to stay in my room? Can I leave?” I ask the words I’ve dreaded to ask since the Sons promised me protection.

He laughs. “If you were a prisoner, sweetheart, the accommodation wouldn’t be as nice as this.”