Remy (Golden Glades Henchmen MC 4)

“It’s okay, buddy,” she said, patting his big head, then instructing him to get down. Which, surprisingly, he did.

“Give me some of your weight,” I suggested as I put an arm around her, knowing the stairs were not going to be fun for her.

By the time we got to the top landing, sweat was trickling down her temple, and I knew it had little to do with her outfit, and everything to do with the pain.

“You didn’t get looked at, did you?” I asked, seeing the answer all over her face.

“I just went to see my best friend. And he helped me track you down. I didn’t know where else to go. I mean… I can’t go to the cops when I was doing something illegal, right?”

That was a bit of a gray area, I guess.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t risk it,” I told her. “But if your ribs are busted, it could lead to other issues. Do you feel short of breath at all?”

“No. I really don’t think he hit me hard enough to break anything,” she said, shaking her head.

“Okay. If you want, I can get your cleaned up. Get you some pain meds. Once I grab an exercise pen for killer here,” I said, smiling down at the dog. “Want to let the wall hold you up for a second, so I can run to grab that?” I asked, thankful that I never threw any of that kind of shit away.

I had several exercise pens, baby gates, and crates in the ridiculous basement that was constantly filled with water that we made the prospects vacuum out.

“Yeah, I’m okay for a minute,” she assured me, even trying to give me a weak smile before I rushed off to get what I needed.

When I got back, Teddy was already there waiting with Lark, ignoring the grumbles from the dog.

It wasn’t that he was all bark and no bite. Clearly. But he was likely too traumatized at the moment to tell that there was a difference between when to attack and when not to.

“Alright, all set,” I said, moving into the room to set up the pen, then letting Lark lead him inside. “Sit,” I demanded, leading her over toward the bed, then rushing around with the bowls Teddy provided to give the dogs some water at least. The food could wait until I had some answers from the woman who saved them all from a gruesome fate.

“Alright. From the beginning,” I demanded as I brought over the medical kit to start wiping away the blood and giving them some antiseptic.

“I haven’t been able to eat or sleep since I rescued my girl. Alma is pregnant, by the way,” she said, giving me both a smile and a head shake. “I just couldn’t think straight, knowing all of them were still locked down there. So I got canned air and a hammer—“

“They padlocked the cages?” I asked, getting a brow raise from her. “I am a criminal, you know,” I said, offering her a smile that she returned.

“Right. Of course. And yes. The assholes. So I was in there longer because of that. I thought we were in the clear when I was able to load them into the car…”

“They might have put up cameras since you took Alma,” I told her. “It was a good thing you had a mask on. You didn’t when he caught up to you, huh?” I asked at the wince she shot me.

“No.”

And she had a look that was hard to forget.

So if the bastard lived, there was a solid chance he would be able to describe her to his friends. And maybe the make and model of her car. If he was quick enough, possibly even a plate number.

From there, it didn’t take much to figure out who she was, where she lived, and where she worked.

Shit.

It was no wonder she and her friend had decided they needed help from someone like me.

“Do I want to know?” Huck’s voice called from the doorway, making me turn to find him standing there with a raised brow.

“Probably not,” I said, shaking my head.

“Alright then,” he agreed, turning and walking off. Because he knew me. We’d practically grown up together. He trusted that I would tell him if there was something going on that put the club in danger.

“Who was that?”

“The president of the club,” I told her.