Protector Daddy (MC Daddies 3)

“Oh God.”

“Don’t worry.” Reyes told her. “Steele was prepared.”

“Your knuckles . . .” she whispered to Spike, no longer capable of speaking any louder. Her throat was so sore.

“He’s fine, you should see the other guy,” Razor said lamely.

She sucked in a breath then groaned in pain. Spike turned his gaze from Luther to glare at Razor who held his hands up in the air. “Sorry, man.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated.

“You need to go get checked out. Tabby too,” Hack said.

“So do you,” she insisted. “If I’m going to the emergency room, so are you.”

“Right,” Reyes said, standing. “All three of you need to see a doctor.” He glared at Hack who went to speak. “But what are we doing with this asshole?” He kicked Luther and Millie whimpered.

Reyes whirled around, swearing quietly. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

She blinked. She didn’t know him, but he didn’t seem the type to be gentle. His eyes narrowed on her then he turned to Spike. “She’s in shock. And she’s squinting? Another migraine?”

How did he know that?

“Millie?” Reyes prodded gently. “Answer me.”

“I think it’s just from where I hit my head. I’m okay.”

Spike made a low, grumbling noise. She knew he didn’t agree with her assessment.

She reached up and cupped the side of his face with her hand. “I’m fine. I promise. And this isn’t your fault so don’t even start thinking that.”

She knew he would be blaming himself.

“No, it’s Luther’s,” Reyes snarled. “Want me to take care of him?”

“No,” a quiet voice protested.

They all turned to look at Tabby. She’d put her legs down, no longer looking so scared or defensive. Razor was crouched protectively next to her, a concerned look on his face.

“Don’t tell me you want us to let him go?” Reyes asked incredulously.

She cringed then squared her shoulders. “No. Not at all.”

“What happened?” Hack asked. “How did you come to be here?”

Millie heard the suspicious note in Hack’s voice. She glared at him. Tabby had helped her. And she’d obviously been through hell with Luther. She didn’t need them snapping at her.

Tabby rubbed at her temple gently. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I think he must have drugged me. He came home so angry, ranting about how everyone was after him. He started beating on me. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an unusual occurrence. He’s been hitting me almost from the day my uncle gave me to him.”

“Gave you to him?” she whispered.

“My uncle thought women were a commodity. All of his wives were either given to him or he bought them. I was just a tool to be used. I knew there was no point in going to him when Luther started beating me. Then I basically became his prisoner, locked up in his house without any way of communicating with the outside world. I thought maybe my cousin would try to get in touch with me . . . we were close once.”

“I’m so sorry,” Millie told her.

“After Luther beat me, he gave me some pills to swallow. I wasn’t in a state to refuse. I’ve learned that refusing just makes things worse. Of course, maybe if I’d said no, he’d finally have killed me.”

She laughed bitterly then groaned in obvious pain.