Suddenly nervous, she nodded and said, “I’ll just be a minute.”
He nodded.
Blood leaned back on his bike, his ass in the seat, one boot on the ground, one on his foot-peg. His eyes went to the water visible beyond the cabin. He took in the quiet peacefulness of the lake. It was at complete odds with the turmoil rolling inside him. Riding off with Skylar was a big deal. Huge. If what she said about going back with them to Slidell—going ‘home’ with her father—were true, then it was a game-changer.
If that’s what she wanted, really wanted, then he’d take her. And maybe after the ordeal she’d just been through, that was exactly what she needed. But a part of him whispered in his ear that this was all wrong. Now more than ever she needed her man.
And that man wasn’t him. It was Shades.
Blood had seen the way the two of them were together. She loved Shades, and as hard as it was to admit it, Shades was a good guy, and he loved her. Blood saw it. Hell, anyone could see it.
His cell went off. Blood reached into his pocket, pulled it out and put it to his ear.
“Yeah.”
“Where the fuck are you?” Undertaker growled in his ear.
“Uh…your daughter is packing a bag. She says she wants to go home with you.”
“Say what?”
“I think she’s in some kind of shock or something. Got to be a knee-jerk reaction to what happened to her, I don’t know. I was afraid she’d take off alone, so I took her.”
Undertaker was quiet a long time, taking in the news. “Where are you?”
“Shades’ place. She’s inside packing a bag, like I said.”
“All right. Call me before you head back.”
“Right.” Blood disconnected. Then he lit up a smoke.
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
“Where’s Skylar?” Shades asked, glancing around the room as he approached the bar where Tink was loading bottles of beer into the cooler under the bar. She bit her lip. There was something she didn’t want to tell him. His eyes narrowed on her. “Tink?”
He watched her eyes drop to the new VP patch on his vest. Butcher had tossed it to him, and they hadn’t let him leave the room until he’d hastily stitched it on. He’d have to go back and do a better job later tonight, but for now, it was on his cut. At lo
ng fucking last. His chest would swell with pride if his ribs didn’t hurt so fucking bad.
But now, all he could think about was Skylar. She’d been through a lot, and all he wanted to do was hold her. Butcher had insisted on holding that stupid meeting the minute they got back. He’d only had the time alone with her in the car as they’d ridden back from Atlanta. There’d been no way he could ride his bike back, not with his ribs fucked up. Shit, the car ride had been bad enough. Thank God Slick and Boot had thought to bring the car, not sure what condition Skylar would be in. Slick drove them back, and Boot had ridden Shades’ bike back for him.
Shades and Skylar had climbed in the back. He’d pulled her close against his good side, his arms tight around her. Slick had gotten them out of there quickly, gunning the engine and spinning the tires of the big old Buick.
“Did they hurt you, baby?” Shades had asked her.
She’d pressed her face in his neck, and he’d felt her body shake with a sob.
“Slick, turn around. She needs to go to the hospital.”
She’d looked up. “No. No hospitals.”
“Babe, if they…” God, he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. “If they hurt you—”
“They didn’t. Not like that.”
“Sky, you can tell me—”
“I know I can. They didn’t rape me. Just slapped me. That’s all.”