“Not in the least,” Cassie said and gave him a laugh. “Besides, he's a pretty good lookin' man with an edge to him in case you haven't noticed. Why wouldn't I be into it? And besides, he's sweet – in his own way.”
Carl returned her smile and nodded. “Okay, good enough. I just had to ask.”
“I understand.”
“About the other thing – your proposal,” he said. “I'm gonna have to think on that for a bit.”
“Fair enough. Thanks for considering it. I know it's an unusual offer.”
“That it is,” he replied. “So when's dinner?”
“Just a few more minutes.”
“Can't wait. I'm starving and that smells amazing.”
Damon stood in the hallway outside the kitchen listening to the exchange. He hadn't heard the entire conversation, but he'd heard enough. He knew she'd planned on asking about staying on in the clubhouse – she'd asked him, but he told her to ask Carl because it wasn't his decision to make. But he found himself hoping Carl agreed to it.
And as he listened to Cassie talking – about him, specifically – Damon found himself smiling in spite of himself.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Damon stepped into Breaker's office to find Carl standing before the bank of security monitors. Breaker was behind his desk working on something and as was the norm for him, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.
“He's back again,” Carl said without turning from the monitors.
Damon didn't need to ask who he was referring to, but stepped up beside Carl and looked at the monitors anyway. And, as he'd expected, there was Andy sitting in his car just outside the gates to the compound. Just sitting there. It was like he was trying to intimidate them or something. Damon just chuckled and shook his head.
“This is getting to be a problem,” Carl said.
“He hasn’t gone to the cops,” Damon replied. “He can't. Not without getting himself into a world of shit.”
“But having him out there just hanging around like this – we can't have that.”
Damon nodded. “No, probably not.”
“My biggest worry right now is that he rolls the dice, goes the cops even at the risk of exposing himself, just to be a pain in our asses.”
“We've got friends in the PD, though.”
“Those friendships have their limits,” Carl said. “And I don't want to find out what the breaking point is. That would be bad for business and bad for the club.”
“Understood,” Damon replied. “I'll take care of the problem.”
“What are you going to do?”
Damon shrugged. “Better you don't know the details. Just know I'll deal with him.”
They watched the monitors and saw Taggert and a few of the other guys walk out to Andy's car. Though the cameras weren't wired for sound, Damon had a pretty good idea of what was being said. Taggert wasn't a good guy and he'd use violence as a first resort rather than last option. Andy looked nearly panic stricken as he rolled up his window. They watched as his car quickly reversed out of the driveway and took off. The show over, Carl finally turned from the monitors and looked at Damon. His gaze was intense, as if trying to convey the full weight of his thoughts with his eyes.
“You don't need to get your hands dirty on this,” Carl said.
“I brought this pain in the ass around,” Damon replied. “I'll deal with it.”
“Yeah, you did bring this down on us,” Carl said. “Understand that you had no way of knowing it would go like this. And I understand why you did it. I don't blame you for that. But killing this piece of shit is only going to make things worse for you and for the club.”
“Nobody's gonna miss this asshole, Carl. Nobody's gonna come looking for him.”
“You sure about that? You willing to risk the club's future on your – what, hunch?” Carl snapped. “Even assholes have friends. Family. You pop this asshole, somebody is gonna come looking.”
Damon looked down at his feet knowing that Carl was right. They had no idea who Andy had spoken to. No idea what he'd told them. For all Damon knew, that pathetic son of a bitch was out there wearing a wire that the cops were listening in on. The situation was a mess and Damon grimaced, knowing he'd brought it all down on them.
“I was afraid this was gonna happen,” Carl said softly. “That girl has you walking around in a fog, man. You're not thinking about this situation clearly.”
“What are you talking about, man?”
“The answer is simple and it don't involve killin' anybody,” Carl said, his voice tight. “You are gonna have to dump the girl. You're gonna have to get her out of here. If she's gone, that asshole has no reason to be hanging around.”
“So what, I should just wish her luck and kick her out the front gate?”
Carl shrugged. “Doesn't have to be that dramatic. Take her on up the road a little ways. Give her some money to get to where she needs to go and send her on her way. Simple as that.”
“She has nowhere to go, Carl,” Damon snapped. “That's the point of her being here.”
Carl gave him a rueful grin. “You sure there ain't another reason she's here?”
“What are you talking about, man?”
“I been around a while,” Carl sighed. “I know the look a man gets when – ”
“That's not it. Not even close.”
“No? I see you puttin' the club at risk for a girl you barely know.”
“A girl who's been getting the shit kicked out of her by her husband. You know how I feel about that.”
“And you know how I feel about protecting the club.”
Damon looked at him, his anger simmering below the surface. He and Carl had clashed at times over the years, but, somehow, this felt different. It was more personal. Below the anger, though, deeper below the surface, Damon also had a sense of embarrassment. Maybe in the beginning it had been to save her. Protect her. Give her a place to crash. But even Damon had to admit that over the last few days, something seemed different. He was actively resisting it, but there was more there than he originally thought. More there than he'd originally ever intended to be there. But he knew Carl was right. Cassie was dangerous to the club – and dangerous to him, personally.
Damon sighed. Carl was right. The club came first. “I'll take care of it.”
He turned and left Breaker's office without another word. He felt terrible. He had not only let Carl down, but he was going to be letting Cassie down, as well. But it was more than that. Carl had been right that it was more than just saving a woman from being beaten by her husband. At least, it had turned out to be more, anyway. He sighed. He'd never intended for any of this to happen.
Damon paused before her door and took a deep breath before knocking.
“Come in,” she called out.
Damon opened the door and stepped inside. And as she turned her eyes upon him, he began to feel awkward – a feeling he wasn't used to. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey. You okay?”
Damon nodded. “Yeah. Let's go for a ride.”
“A ride?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. Let's get out of her for a little while.”
Cassie gave him a curious look but then smiled. “Okay, sure. Sounds fun.”
She followed him out to the garage, climbing on to the back of his bike. Damon gave her a helmet and then put his own on before firing it up. He pulled through the gates and out onto the main road, heading up into the hills that surrounded the area. Damon sometimes did this on his own when he needed to get away to clear his head. The fresh air, scent of the forest around him, and the sound of his bike's engine on the open road – it was the best therapy he could think of.
“Where are we headed?” Cassie shouted over the roar of the engine.
The nicest place I can think of to drop you off like a bag of trash. But at least the scenery will be nice, Damon thought to himself. “Don't know yet,” he replied. “Just out ridin'”
They drove along for another half hour, Damo
n's mind swirling the whole time. He knew leaving her off out there in the middle of nowhere was the wrong thing to do. Knew it in his bones. But he also had Carl and the club to think about. But protecting the club was at odds with what he felt was right. If there was one thing that serving in the military had taught him, it was to always strive to do the right thing. It was a lesson that not even some of the men in his platoon aspired to, but it was one that had resonated deep within him.
There was also the mantra about never leaving a man behind. Cassie's life was a battlefield and her own husband was the enemy combatant. If he simply left her stranded in the middle of nowhere, it was as good as turning her over to him. With no resources and nowhere to go, Damon had little doubt that she'd have no choice but to go back to the war that raged in her own home. And he was quite certain that it would be a conflict that would claim her life.
The Dragons were now his brothers in arms. They were his squad. He'd lay down his life for most any of them. And he had to believe that they'd back his play. That they'd understand his position and would do what was necessary and honorable. And if not, maybe he'd have to re-think some of his priorities in life.
“Fuck it,” he muttered to himself. Damon turned the bike around and headed back the way they'd come. He felt Cassie's body relax against him as he headed back down the highway. Had she known what he was going to do? Or had he imagined her body loosening up against his?
He drove down what passed as the main boulevard in Kingston. It was a small town that looked somewhat frozen in time. It had a very old time feel and charm to it that had always appealed to Damon. He pulled the bike to a stop in front of the local ice cream parlor and helped Cassie off the back.
“Let's get an ice cream cone,” he said.
Some of the townspeople looked at him sideways as they entered the ice cream shop and ordered their cones – mint chip for her and a double scoop of rocky road for him. Taking their treats outside, they took a seat at a small table on the sidewalk out front.
“I kind of thought you were going to leave me out there in the woods,” Cassie said suddenly.
Damon couldn't meet her eyes. “Carl asked me to. Your ex is getting to be a problem for the club.”
“So why didn't you?”
He shrugged. “It wasn't the right thing to do.”
“Well – thank you. I hope it doesn't cause you a lot of problems with Carl.”
“Nothin' I can't handle.”
And they left it at that, making small talk as they finished up their treats. Damon finally looked up and saw Cassie's eyes had grown wide and her face seemed to pale. But she wasn't looking at him. She was looking over his shoulder at something – or somebody – else. Damon was on his feet in an instant and spun around to find Andy standing right behind him, a predatory smirk on his face.
“Well, isn't this cozy?” he said.
“It was,” Damon replied, “'til some asshole showed up and ruined the mood.”
“Didn't know if you'd ever come out from behind those walls,” he said.
“Here I am,” Damon's voice was hard, tinged with ice.
“You have something that belongs to me,” Andy said. “I want it back.”
Damon laughed. “It? Seriously? It has a name,” he said. “And she has zero interest in going anywhere with you.”
“Yeah well, it doesn't have much say in where it goes and doesn't go,” Andy taunted. “It is legally bound by marriage.”
“You apparently don't realize that marriage and ownership of a possession are two different things.”
Damon glanced back at Cassie who was still seated at the table. She seemed rooted to her spot, overwhelmed by fear. He wanted more than anything to break the hold Andy had on her. He thought deep within her was a strength that, perhaps, she didn't realize just yet. It took strength and guts to run away from her abuser. She just needed to tap into that even more. Because as long as she feared him, he would control her.
“She belongs to me and I'll be taking her home with me,” Andy said. “Cassie, get into the car.”
“She's not going anywhere with you, chief. She's done with you,” Damon said. “So just drive your ass on home and get on with your life.”
Andy reached inside of his jacket and Damon heard Cassie gasp. Acting purely on instinct and his military training, Damon closed the gap between himself and Andy, snatching his hand out of his jacket and bending it backward at an awkward angle. Andy hissed in pain as Damon plucked the pistol out of his grip and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans before anybody could see what he was holding. A biker holding a .45 would likely draw some unwanted attention.
Still holding the man's wrist, Damon leaned forward, putting his face inches from Andy's. “That wasn't smart, asshole,” he hissed. “And you're lucky I don't snap your fucking wrist right now.”
“Let go,” Andy whined, “you're hurting me.”
“If you don't get out of here right now,” Damon said, not letting go of his wrist, “you're going to be feeling a lot more pain than this. I can promise you that.”
“Fine,” Andy said, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. “Let me go. I'll go.”
“And you will never come back,” Damon pressed. “And you will forget all about Cassie. Got it?”
“Fine. Whatever. Just let me go, you're hurting me.”
Damon gave his wrist one final tweak before letting him go and pushing him back a couple of steps. Andy held his wrist, massaging it. His glare at Damon was dark, intense, and promised retribution.
“Now scoot,” Damon said.
“Wait.”
Damon turned to see Cassie standing up from the table, her paralysis seemingly broken. She walked around the table toward Andy who gave her – and Damon – a predatory smile.
“Cassie, what are you doing?” Damon asked.
Her steps were slow and halting, but she stood before Andy, her eyes cast to the ground.
“Cassie, you don't have to go with him.”
She remained silent and refused to look back at Damon. His stomach was in knots that were constricting painfully and he felt his heart stuttering in his chest.
“See?” Andy said. “All good dogs come back to their master.”
Cassie looked up and, apparently, whatever Andy saw in her eyes made him smile even wider. But without warning, Cassie drove her knee into his crotch with all of the force she could muster. Andy grunted and doubled over, holding his crotch and mewling in pain.
Damon was impressed. He didn't think she had that type of spunk in her. It was all he could do to keep from laughing out loud as he looked at the man holding his balls in obvious agony. When he looked at her, he felt something shift within him. He didn't know what it was, couldn't quite identify it, but something had changed. And, for the first time, he found himself admitting, perhaps, he liked Cassie quite a bit more than he had originally wanted to.
Cassie turned with a wide smile on her face and gave Damon a wink. “Shall we go?”
Damon smiled and gave her his arm, escorting her back to his bike. As she climbed on the back, he fired it up and suddenly began to worry about the reception from Carl he was going to get when he returned to the clubhouse.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Damon walked into the kitchen where Carl was sitting, drinking a beer. He leaned up against the counter and slid his hands into his pockets, waiting for the older man to lower the boom. He'd already had Breaker clear out the clubhouse, which told Damon that this wasn't going to be a particularly pleasant conversation. When the sounds of the last bikes out of the garage faded into the distance, Carl finally looked up at him.
“What happened?” was all he asked.
“Couldn't do it.”
“Obviously. Why not?”
“It just wasn't right, man. Stranding her out there in the middle of the forest with nowhere to go? It just didn't feel right to me.”
Carl was on his feet in a heartbeat. Though sixty years old, the man still had catlik
e quickness. “You know what don't feel right to me, Damon?” Carl screamed. “Having the cops crawling around in our asses because you didn't clean up the mess you created.”
“So what, I should just leave her in the middle of the forest to die?” Damon shouted back. “Or better yet, why don't I just take her back to her ex so he can beat her to death. Would that be better for you, Carl?”
“Don't even try putting this shit on me, man. You're the one who fucked up here.”
Merrick: Harlequins MC Page 31