The dog, which she was sure was Breaker's pit bull Max, barked and growled viciously, desperate to get to Andy. Cassie turned her head, stretching her neck, desperate to see what was happening. But she was able to see nothing except for Andy sitting astride her, his attention focused on Damon.
“Back off. This is my wife. You have no say in this.”
Cassie heard the familiar sound of somebody – Damon, presumably – chambering a round in a gun. She wanted to laugh, figuring it was the same gun Damon had taken off of Andy earlier in the day.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Andy yelled, putting his hands up. “Let's not escalate this any further than it already is.”
“Too late for that,” Damon replied.
“So what's your plan here, then?” Andy yelled. “You just gonna shoot me?”
“It's not my first preference. But I won't hesitate to put you down,” he said. “Don't think for a moment I won't. Now get off of her and step away.”
Andy didn't move. He looked at Damon and then down at her. And what she saw chilled her to the bone. It was the look of a man who knew he was beaten but was determined to go out in a blaze of glory. He either thought he had nothing to lose or he didn't really think Damon had the guts or wherewithal to pull the trigger.
He looked up at Damon one last time before leaning down and wrapping his hands around Cassie's throat. He squeezed has hard as he possibly could, trying to take her out with him. The sound of the shot was like a booming cannon. She felt Andy's body jerk and then suddenly, his hands fell away from her throat. And then his body fell off of hers, slumping limply to the dirt beside her, a hole in his head oozing a crimson stream of blood.
Cassie's heart was like a trip hammer in her chest as she turned over and got to her knees. She looked down at Andy, looked into his wide, unseeing eyes. Then she looked to Damon who stood there with the gun at his side in one hand, Max's leash in the other. When the dog saw her, his tail began to wag and his tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. Cassie slowly climbed to her feet, looked down at the body of her husband and spat on him.
Walking over to Damon, she wrapped her arms around him and sobbed. Damon hesitated, uncertain that he should be doing it, but he dropped the gun on the ground at their feet and pulled her close, embracing her tightly as Max leaned against her legs, whining with happiness. She wheezed and gasped, still trying to draw breath.
“I'm so sorry,” he whispered.
“You saved me,” she said, her voice incredibly hoarse. “You came and you saved me.”
Damon gave her a kiss on the top of the head. “Take Max and head back to the club.”
“Where are you going?”
“I have to do something,” he replied. “About him. But I'll catch up with you.”
Cassie nodded and shot one last glance back at her now ex-husband before giving Damon a kiss on the cheek.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“For saving me. Again.”
CHAPTER TEN
Cassie walked through the surprisingly empty garage and back into the clubhouse, her throat raw and sore and her head ringing. She was terrified of walking in there alone after Carl had made it abundantly clear that he wanted her gone. But what else could she do? She was a bruised and battered mess. As she stepped into the clubhouse, she heard a couple of voices and, taking a deep breath, walked down the hallway toward them.
When she entered the kitchen, she found Carl and Breaker sitting at the table. She dropped the leash and Max went bounding over to Breaker, wagging his whole body and planting sloppy kisses on the kid's face. When Carl looked up at her, his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. Breaker looked up not a moment later and had the same expression on his face.
“Cassie,” Carl said as he stood up. “What in the hell happened?”
“Andy,” she said, her voice choked with sobs. “Andy must have followed me out of here because he caught up to me on the creek path and – ” She was overwhelmed by the emotion and the memory of the attack and broke down. Her body heaved with sobs and tears ran unabated down her cheeks.
Breaker was on his feet and guided her to the chair he'd just vacated, helping her to sit down. He ran off down the hall, leaving her there, sobbing and trying to hide her face from Carl. The older man squatted down beside her and gently took hold of her wrists, removing her hands from her face. When she looked into his eyes, she didn't see anger or recrimination for returning to the clubhouse. She saw compassion and concern in his eyes.
“Are you okay?” Carl asked and then raised his hands while shaking his head. “Stupid question. Of course you're not.”
Breaker returned with a first aid kit and Carl stood up, stepping away from the table. He paced the kitchen, alternating between running his hand through his hair and tugging on the ends of his mustache.
With incredible care and tenderness, Breaker was using the contents of the first aid kit to tend to her physical wounds.
“I'm so sorry, Cassie,” Breaker whispered. “You didn't deserve this.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks and she didn't trust herself to speak yet.
Carl paced the kitchen, his hands clenched into fists and his jaw set. He didn't like abusers any more than Damon did and seeing Cassie show up like that, beat up and bloody enraged him. “Son of a bitch,” Carl muttered as he continued to pace.
Cassie winced as Breaker applied a warm cloth to wipe to a cut on her face. He gently wiped the blood and dirt from the wounds. His already wide eyes grew even wider when he looked at her neck. Cassie couldn't see what he was looking at, but she figured it was bruising from Andy trying to strangle her.
Breaker gently touched her neck with his fingertips. “Sorry,” Breaker said. “I'm so sorry.”
“How'd you get away from him?” Carl asked. “Did Damon catch up to you?”
Fear stole through her body, briefly pushing out the pain. She knew Carl had forbidden Damon of getting rid of the nuisance that was Andy even though he was dangerous to the club – and really dangerous to her personally. “Yeah, he found us. He saved my life. Andy was strangling me when Damon just came out of nowhere.”
“That explains the cuts and bruising on your neck,” Breaker muttered.
Carl stopped pacing and looked at her. “Where is Damon now?”
“I – I don't know,” she admitted.
“You don't know?”
Cassie racked her brain, trying to find a lie that didn't sound like a lie. Andy was dead. She'd seen his body on the ground right next to her. Damon had put a bullet in his head because he was trying to kill her. But would Carl understand that? Would he take that into account not punish Damon for killing him because of the circumstances? It was a gamble Cassie didn't know she was willing to take. “H – he and Andy got into it. He wouldn't stop choking me so Damon grabbed him and they started to fight. Damon told me to run back here. The last I saw, he was chasing Andy the other way.”
“Chasing him away, huh?”
Cassie nodded. “Yeah. He saved my life, Carl.”
The older man leaned against the counter and stared at her. The skepticism on his face was plain. He knew something bad had gone down out in the woods and he knew she was covering for Damon. Cassie could see it in his face plain as day.
“I'd be dead right now if it weren't for Damon.”
Carl looked at her and knew she wasn't telling him something. Knew she was holding something back. There was more than just the fear and trauma of what she'd just gone through in her face. She was protecting Damon. He knew it. And judging by the look on her face, Cassie knew he knew it.
“Is Andy dead, Cassie?”
Her eyes widened slightly and he lower lip began to quiver. “I don't know, Carl. Like I said, I ran when Damon and Andy started to fight. I looked over my shoulder and saw that Andy had turned and was running away. Damon was chasing him. Outside of that, I don't know anything more than you do.”
“Did he kill Andy, Cassie?”
Carl's
eyes bored into hers, searching for the truth – or, at least, searching for her deception. She didn't know what Carl would do to Damon if he knew with absolute certainty he'd killed her ex. Especially after Carl had forbidden it. Cassie knew a murder investigation would bring a lot of unwanted attention to the club, which was why Carl had been insisting Damon find a different way of handling Andy. She didn't know exactly what they were doing or what they were into, but it was obviously something that made them not want the cops poking around the clubhouse about.
“You told him not to,” she said evenly. “Which was why when I saw him, he was running Andy off instead of just killing him right there.”
Carl sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't getting anywhere with her. She was obviously protecting Damon by not telling him what had really happened out in those woods. Which lead Carl to believe the worst had happened. Damon had killed Andy. It was the last thing that the club needed right now. With pressure mounting internally to remove him from office, Carl was concerned a murder investigation would be just the right leverage somebody like Taggert would need to take over the club.
Carl put his heart and soul, his blood, sweat, and tears into the Dragons. The Dragons were his family, his world, and his life. Idiots like Taggert didn't respect the club. Didn't respect the life. They saw it as a means of getting themselves ahead, of getting theirs and enriching themselves. The wellbeing of the club ran secondary to that. Carl had believed that Damon shared his views and respected the club as much as he did. But he had gambled it all on this girl.
Breaker finished up tending to Cassie's wounds and cleaned up the mess on the table. “Nothing seems too serious, injury-wise. I think you're going to be okay physically.”
Cassie gave the kid a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
“You should probably go on upstairs and get some rest,” Carl said.
Cassie looked at him and nodded. She was exhausted and emotionally wrung out. As she headed out of the kitchen and toward the stairs, she turned and gave Carl a meaningful look. “He really did save my life,” she said. “I wouldn't be standing here if not for him.”
Carl nodded. “Go on up, get some rest.”
After she'd gone upstairs, Carl sat back down at the table. Breaker grabbed a couple of beers from the refrigerator and took a seat at the table, as well. Neither man spoke as they drank, each consumed by their own thoughts.
“Damon is a good man,” Breaker said, finally breaking the silence. “He cares about this club as much as you do. And I didn't think that was possible.”
Carl nodded. “Yeah, I know.”
An hour later, Damon walked into the kitchen. His pants were wet and caked with mud. So were his jacket and hands. Carl looked him up and down and gave him a rueful grin. Breaker looked uncomfortable sitting between the two men and simply took a swallow of his beer.
“Rough night?” Carl asked.
Damon nodded. “You could say that.”
“She's upstairs,” he said. “Good thing you got to her when you did.”
“Yeah.”
Carl looked at Damon and locked eyes with him. His gaze was intense and filled with meaning. But Damon didn't back down, meeting his gaze with a determined, defiant look of his own.
“Problem solved?” Carl asked.
“It's solved.”
“That chapter of the book closed?”
Damon nodded. “Yeah.”
Carl nodded. “We good?”
“Yeah, we're good.”
“Good. Now go take a shower. You smell like shit.”
Damon gave him a smile and nodded before heading upstairs.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Cassie heard footsteps and her heart jumped when Damon walked in through the door. He was covered in mud and roughed up. All because of her. All because he'd saved her.
Running over to him, Cassie didn't seem to care about how much dirt covered him. She needed to kiss him, to let him know just how much she appreciated what he'd done. He'd risked so much for her. Why? She wasn't sure, but she didn't have to know right then and there. And she'd make sure to pay him back in a more pleasurable way later, once he felt up to it again.
She kissed him, and he kissed her back. But it wasn't a kiss filled with lust or a promise of sex. A soft, gentle, almost relieved kiss. He was tired, most likely. And needed a shower.
“I can't say thank you enough,” Cassie said, her eyes filling with tears.
“Then don't try,” Damon said, pushing back a strand of her hair that was covering her face. “Because you don't have to thank me, Cassie.”
“But you risked so much. For me.”
“And I'd do it all over again. Andy was a piece of shit. He deserved everything that happened to him.”
Cassie couldn't deny that, so she didn't. Still, the idea that she was finally free, that Andy was gone – forever – was such a relief. It was like a boulder had been lifted from her shoulders and she could finally breathe again. “I should let you shower,” she said, stepping away.
“You could join me,” he said with a wink before heading toward the bathroom.
Cassie followed. Not because she felt obligated, but because she wanted to. She helped him strip down, dropping the muddy, nasty clothing in a corner of the bathroom before he gently and carefully removed her clothes. His hand rubbed her neck softly as he stared at the bruises left behind by Andy's attempt to strangle her. The look in his eyes in that moment took her breath away. Her entire body hurt from the beating, but with his soft, gentle touch, he made everything fell all right again.
Together, they got in the shower. He wiped her down, making sure to be careful with her sore spots and flinching along with her when she hurt.
“Maybe you should go to a hospital,” he said.
“Can't,” Cassie said. “Too many questions. Too much potential for trouble. Breaker took good care of me.”
She lathered the bar of soap, wiping off his chest, cleaning off all of the muddy remnants of tonight's adventure. He turned, lifting up his hair so she could wash his back.
When he turned back around, they embraced, kissing softly. Being in his arms after everything that had happened felt so nice and so natural as the warm water rushed over their naked bodies. He didn't move toward anything sexual; it was a kiss. And a shower. Yet she could feel his cock hardening against her stomach, which again caused him to turn away from her.
“Come here,” she said, a playful smile on her face. “Let me thank you for saving my life in a more personal way.”
“You don't have to thank me, Cassie. I told you that already. And you most definitely don't have to – ” His voice caught in his throat as she reached around and stroked his cock.
“I know I don't have to,” she whispered against his skin. “I want to. I want you.”
“And I want you,” he said, “but are you feeling up to it?”
“Are you?” she asked.
He chuckled, looking down at his cock in her hand. “I think we know the answer to that one already.”
“Then it's settled,” she said as she continued to jack him off.
“Are you sure?” he asked, turning around to face her. “I don't want to hurt you.”
“You can never hurt me, Damon,” she said, stroking his face. “And, yes, I'm sure.”
Before he could say another word, she dropped to her knees and took his cock between her lips. Kissing the very tip of him, she let her hands stroke the shaft. If Damon wanted to argue against her doing this, his body wasn't letting him. His hands eventually found their way to her hair, as he groaned. “Oh God, Cassie...” he said.
She teased the tip of his dick before sliding him into her mouth, as far as he would go without gagging, using her hand to make up the difference. She moved her mouth up and down over his swollen cock, savoring how he felt in her mouth.
“Please, stop,” he said, his voice hoarse.
Cassie, afraid that maybe he wasn't in the mood after all, did as she was told
. She stood up, ready to apologize, when he kissed her long and hard, pressing her body against the shower wall. His rough hands worked over her body, touching her in ways that were gentle as he did his best to not hurt her. Never before had Cassie seen him be so gentle about anything, especially sex.
Damon picked her up and carried her out of the shower. He placed her on the bed, lying her down comfortably, and Cassie thought maybe he was putting her down to rest. Turning her down for sex, but taking care of her. Yet, she could see that he was still very hard and Cassie wanted to take care of him, too.
She sat up, crawling to the edge of the bed where he stood, butt naked, and she once again took him in her mouth, sucking and stroking his cock with her hand at the same time. Damon didn't fight this, as Cassie expected, but he lifted her head away from his body and forced her to look up at him.
Merrick: Harlequins MC Page 33