Revved To The Maxx - Page 91

Charly gasped at Mary’s frank appraisal, but she was right. That thought had been running through my head ever since I’d found Charly, making my stomach clench every time I thought about it. Todd nodded in silent agreement.

“Okay,” Charley said faintly.

Todd stood. “I’m going to bring the boys in for questioning. You’re certain it was Chase driving and Wes in the passenger seat?”

“Yes.”

Todd fixed me a look. “Maxx, I know what you’re thinking right now—what you’re wanting to do. My advice—don’t. Stay the hell away from them, and let me handle this.” He paused meeting my eyes. “Don’t jeopardize what I need to do to handle this legally. And don’t do anything that will take you away from Charly. I don’t want to have to throw you in jail for beating the shit outta those two lowlifes.”

Mary spoke up. “I’ll make sure he stays put.”

I glared at her, but she ignored me.

Charly slipped her hand into mine. I looked at her, meeting her gaze. She was fragile and vulnerable, looking lost and in pain. “Please.”

I couldn’t refuse her.

“Okay,” I promised.Chapter 23MAXXJerry finally agreed to let Charly come home in the early hours of the evening. Neither Stefano nor Brett would leave, and Mary only offered me a scathing look when I asked her, so it was a small group that escorted Red home. Stefano drove my truck so I could hold Charly. Brett followed us, and Mary went ahead to make sure the room was set up for when we arrived. Charly was more alert, and although she was acting brave, I knew she was hurting. Her shoulder was too sore to use the crutches they provided, so I carried her. It was easier on all of us, and I felt better holding her.

At home, Rufus howled at the sight of her in my arms, racing toward us, whining and barking. I stopped so he could sniff Charly, and she patted his head, then I went into the house, heading toward the bedroom. I settled her into bed, stripping off the hospital scrubs they let her borrow and sliding one of my T-shirts over her head. It would be far more comfortable. My rage grew when I saw the bright red welt high up on her thighs—the cause of her losing control of the bicycle. I had to inhale deeply not to react, knowing it would upset Charly, and I was careful not to touch the painful skin as I pulled the shirt down her legs.

I helped her lie back on the pillows, and Mary came in with a tray, containing some soup and toast. Charly ate a little, her eyes drifting shut, so I let her sleep, setting my watch for two hours.

I hated leaving her even for a short time, but Mary insisted, so I went downstairs and had a sandwich. Rufus remained by the bed, refusing to leave, so I allowed him to stay. I finished the sandwich and ran a hand through my hair.

“You don’t all have to stay here. I’ll look after Charly.”

“And who will look after you?”

I scoffed. “I’m fine.”

“You can’t go after them, Maxx,” Mary stated calmly.

“I swear, I won’t—not tonight.”

“Not at all. You need to let the police handle it.”

“And if they don’t?” I growled, fisting my hands on the table. “Wes whipped her with a reed or a branch—something thin and sharp. She’s covered in bruises and cuts. If she hadn’t landed in the ditch…” I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. “They need to be held accountable.”

For a moment, there was silence, then Stefano spoke up. “There are other ways of getting retribution without using your fists.”

“Such as?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I can dismantle a truck in two hours with a socket wrench. Leave it in pieces scattered far and wide.” His dark eyes twinkled. “Mercedes, too. They look great in pieces.”

“Additives to gas lines can cause automobiles to break down—requiring expensive repairs,” Brett muttered.

“A carefully placed cut on a tire could leave someone stranded on a country road. Heaven knows who might wander by,” Stefano drawled.

“A pill slipped into a beer in a bar could make someone pretty damn sleepy. God knows how they ended up in the middle of the next province with no cell phone, keys, cash, or recollection of driving there,” Brett offered.

“Handcuffed to their bumper,” Mary added.

I glanced around the table. “Remind me not to make any of you angry.”

Mary snorted. “Another good one would be a call to the tax department. That should cause some grief for their father. Unclaimed wages paid under the table would bring them trouble.”

I held up my hands. “I get it. I’m not leaving her—not tonight, not tomorrow, not until she can get around again. I won’t risk leaving her alone. Even though I want to feel his bones break under my hands for what he did to her.”

Tags: Melanie Moreland Romance
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