This time her laugh was empty, a hollow sound. “Rescued. That’s fucking rich. You can thank the Handlers for this,” she said, robotic and monotone as she turned away again.
“What?” Thank the Handlers for what?
“That’s what he said.” Her gaze never left the thick forest, green now that spring had returned to Tennessee. “The very last thing he said to me. While he was…” She swallowed, then cleared her throat. Now she was looking at him. Straight on, gauging his reaction. “When Lefty was raping me, he said, ‘You can thank the Handlers for this.’”
Lefty. His eyes fell closed as he absorbed the impact of her statement. No wonder she lost her shit when the lot of them waltzed into the coffee shop like they owned the fucking place. This entire time she’d thought the Handlers had a hand in her assault. The thought of her fearing him in such a way, of her thinking he condoned Lefty’s actions shattered the remaining pieces of his heart.
Fuck death. Lefty wouldn’t be getting death until Rocket was good and done with him. He was going to revel in each scream, each plea for mercy the motherfucker made. And he’d scream.
They always did.
“Then you showed up, Rocket.” Again, she said his road name like it was poison on her tongue. “I had no idea why you took me out of there and to the hospital. Still don’t. But you did. You saved me. And I gave the police a bogus story, like you asked. Mostly because I was afraid your club was involved. Even though you were so gentle with me. And as much as I was hurting and terrified, for those few moments on your bike I felt safe. But Lefty’s words were right there. Whispered in my ear over and over.” She shivered and Rocket fought the desire to hold her. “I didn’t want to know what else could happen if I went against the big bad bikers. Her voice hitched and Rocket swore his hardened insides softened to mush. He wanted to gather her in his arms and promise no man would touch her as long as he was fucking breathing. But she’d probably gut him at this point.
“Chloe, I never would have hurt you. I’m not like him. The Handlers are not like him,” he said.
It was as though she hadn’t heard him speak. “And then Stephanie came to see me.” Her recounting was flat, emotionless without a flicker beyond a neutral expression on her beautiful face. “It didn’t make sense. If you guys wanted to scare me into keeping my mouth shut, why send a woman who was sweet and kind? I had no idea what to think, so I just kept to myself and avoided Townsend for all I was worth. I didn’t know how the MC was involved, just that you were. Then I met a man named Logan. A man who—” Her voice grew wistful right before a sob caught in her throat. “A man who turned out to be a fucking liar.”
Rocket hung his head. “Shit,” he ground out. Every word grated on his brain a million times worse than nails on a chalkboard. Though any of the Handlers would have given up their patch to keep a woman from suffering what Chloe endured, it was at least in part the club’s fault. Chloe deserved the truth, as much as it killed him to speak it. “The club got word through a contact that a woman, you, was kidnapped. Lefty had been up to that shit for a while, so we were on the lookout for any abduciton reports. The club was able to get our hands on footage of the guys abducting you from the parking lot.” He ran a palm down his face as the memory of that recording played through his mind. He’d been drawn to her. Even then. That tape was the reason he’d been the one to rescue her. He’d practically begged for the job. “I’d give anything to bring the two fuckers who kidnapped you back to life. I’d love nothing more than to rip them apart with my bare hands. Won’t even tell you my plans for Lefty.”
She snorted. “Get in line.”
His lips twitched. There she was. The feisty woman who’d left him cuffed to a bed a few weeks ago. “I’m going to kill Lefty,” he said to her startled expression. Cards were falling all over the table now. Before this day was over, she’d know exactly what kind of man she’d been sleeping with the past few weeks.
“Lefty’s gang, the Gray Dragons, were enemies of my club.” Every ounce of Chloe’s attention was trained on him and now it was his turn to avoid eye contact. Admitting his club’s role in her fate was harder than he ever imagined. “Our president, Copper, took a few guys to meet with Lefty. See if he could convince him to release you. At the time, Copper was trying to avoid a bloody war. Lefty didn’t want war either, so he claimed. He’d just taken over the Gray Dragons and was working to build up the gang. Copper gave him until the end of that day to deliver you to the motel room completely unharmed or we’d rain hell on him.”