He looked at his deputy, giving a slight chin lift, then did the same to Wrath and the other Eternal Brethren. Ethan raised a fisted hand, their predetermined signal. They already knew to stay clear of the southwest corner of the building. That, and the woman inside, belonged to Wrath.
Cara’s heart hammered in her chest, fear fighting with hope. She couldn’t mistake what she’d heard. Ethan’s voice. Not once, but twice. If Ethan was here, Wrath would be with him, and Wrangler, and maybe some of the others. They’d come for her.
A few minutes before she heard Ethan shout, Cara had scooted back on the mattress, resting against the wall. The sound of his voice put her on immediate alert. Now her mind reeled with what she should do, what Wrath would expect her to do.
Ethan had given Poison an ultimatum. So far, Cara hadn’t heard the president of the Night Devils respond, had no idea what the outlaw’s silence meant for her. The zip ties cut into her wrists and ankles, her foray to the window causing blood to flow from the lacerations. The pain didn’t bother her. The lack of mobility did.
Her back stiffened when Ethan shouted once more.
“Last chance, Poison.”
Cara didn’t know what the demand meant for her. She didn’t have to worry about it long. The door to the bedroom banged open, Poison charging inside, brutally yanking her to him.
His fingers dug into her skin as he dragged Cara from the room and through the house. He came to an abrupt stop at what she guessed was the front door, yelling orders at Mario and someone named Burn. A few other members of the Devils were spread out beside windows. She tried to count their number, whimpering in pain when Poison slammed her into a wall.
Cara felt wetness drip down her face and into her mouth, lips swelling, the metallic taste of blood causing her stomach to roil. Yanking her against him, Poison shoved open the front door. He lifted a gun, the cold metal of the barrel positioned against her temple.
Wrath’s heart stalled, blood rushing to his head at the sight before him. Poison held a gun to Cara’s head. Anger pulsed through him when he saw blood on her face, wrists and ankles bound. What sealed Poison’s fate were the tears streaming down her cheeks.
Even so, Wrath saw determination in her gaze, lips curled in contempt. “Gunner, do you have him?”
“Roger. I’ve got the fucker, Prez.”
“Ethan. Gunner is set. Waiting your go.”
Ethan’s voice was a low growl. “Roger, Wrath.”
Ethan took a step forward. “Let her go, Poison. You aren’t going to get through this if you harm the woman in any way.”
“Fuck no. I’ve got a crew inside. More than enough to take down you and your deputy.”
“Don’t be stupid, Poison. No matter the number of men inside, you’ll be dead.”
“So will you, Sheriff.”
Wrath’s voice came through the radio. “Waiting for your go, Ethan.”
Ethan opened his mouth to shout one last warning. Whatever he meant to say stalled when Cara shifted, her head ramming into Poison’s jaw. The outlaw’s grip loosened enough for her to tear out of his grasp and stumble away.
Yelling a stream of curses, Poison lifted his gun, aiming it at Cara when a single shot rang out. The shocked expression on his face would’ve been comical except for the gaping hole in his forehead. Gunner’s shot had been spot on.
Cara screamed as she toppled over, then screamed again when Poison’s lifeless body collapsed, pinning her in place.
The rest was a blur of shouts, shots, and boots stomping across the dirt. Arms slid under her legs and back, lifting her. She felt a solid chest, smelled the familiar scent.
Caid.
“I’ve got you, babe.”
She closed her eyes on his comforting words. He’d found her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Please, Wrath. Get me out of here.” Cara’s fingers curled into the sheets of the emergency room bed. “I really do not need to be here.” Lifting a hand to her face, she felt the stitches on her brow.
He leaned forward, covering her hand with his. “One quick check, babe. If the doc says you’re okay, I’ll take you home.”
Closing her eyes in frustration, she huffed out a breath. “I don’t like hospitals.” She opened her eyes at his chuckle. “This isn’t funny.”
His expression sobered. “None of what happened over the last twenty-four hours is funny. And it’s my fault.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You never should’ve been a target for Poison or anyone else. None of this should’ve happened to someone as sweet as you.”
Cara’s chest seized, her stomach tightening. Something in his voice flashed warning bells in her head. Pulling her hand away, her worried gaze met his. “What are you saying?”
Staring at her, he sucked in an unsteady breath. Before he could respond, the doctor joined them.
After several minutes and numerous questions, he prescribed a pain killer and antibiotic, letting her know both would be available when she left the hospital. Shoving the pen into a pocket, the doctor studied her a moment, rubbing his chin.
“You’ve had quite a traumatic experience, Ms. Mortensen. There’s a good chance you’ll have some ongoing issues, serious ones you’ll need to address. I’d highly recommend you speak with someone.” Pulling out the pen, he jotted on a pad of paper. “Here are the names of two counselors who are good at working with those experiencing trauma.”
Reaching out a shaky hand, Cara took the paper, giving a weak, “Thank you.” Her mind wasn’t on her wounds, the trauma, or the possible need to talk it out with someone. She swallowed the fear building in her chest, knowing whatever was on Wrath’s mind wouldn’t bode well for her. The instant the doctor left, her gaze locked on his.
“Caid?”
Shaking his head, he stood. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“But…” She knew her voice sounded almost pleading, which made her wince.
“We’ll talk at home.” He held out a hand, helping her stand.
“Whose home? Mine or yours?”
“It might be best if I took you back to your apartment.”
Cara had no illusions about what he meant to say. She could see it in his eyes, in the way his shoulders slumped.
Slipping back into her clothes, she refused his help, preferring to make the trek to the entrance alone. Glancing over her shoulder, she stopped, waiting until he came up beside her.
“Do you have my phone?”
Wrath stared at her, his expression grave and full of sorrow. Reaching into a pocket, he gripped her phone, holding it out to her. Without a word, she took it, pacing several steps away, making a call. Heart heavy, she turned, coming to within a couple feet of him, seeing what looked like two bottles of medications in his hand.
“You’re free to go back to your place, Wrath. I have a cab coming to take me home.” She didn’t expect his harsh and immediate reaction.
“The hell with that. I’m taking you home, Cara.” He cupped her elbow, leading her toward the door. When she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip. “There’s not a chance I’m letting you leave here by yourself. I don’t understand what’s going on with you?”
“No?” Cara couldn’t stop the anger in her voice.
He didn’t stop, leading her to his truck. “No. Do you want to enlighten me?”
The pain in her chest increased to a point she had a hard time drawing in a breath. She had a harder time keeping the moisture in her eyes from spilling.
“I already know what you want to say, Wrath.”
Halting beside the truck, he opened the passenger door. Before she could protest, he lifted her, setting Cara on the seat.
“I don’t know how the hell you could know what I want to say because it’s something I’m still trying to work out myself.”
Confusion crossed her face. She felt certain his solution to the issue of her safety was to cut their ties. Washing his hands of her was simple, effective, and a quick resolution to the problem of ke
eping her away from his enemies. They wouldn’t come after her if she and Wrath were no longer together.
Slamming the door, he walked around the truck to climb inside. Gripping the wheel, he stared out the window. He blew out a breath, not looking at her as he turned the key and pulled onto the main road.
Instead of driving to her apartment, Wrath headed toward the lake.
“I don’t want to go to the lake. Just take me home.”
He ignored her, reaching out to turn on the radio. A popular country song shot through the speakers. They both loved this station, the music it played. Right now, Cara didn’t want to hear it. What she did want was to scream in frustration. Instead, she rested her head against the seat and closed her eyes.
Feeling the truck jerk as it came to a stop, her lids fluttered open. Cara hadn’t even realized she’d fallen asleep. Rubbing her eyes, she blinked, recognizing the cabin. It held such wonderful memories. She didn’t look forward to having them tainted with whatever bad news Wrath delivered.
“Why are we here?”
Killing the engine, he shifted in his seat to look at her. “Because the cabin is somewhat neutral ground. Not your apartment or my house. And no one will interrupt us.”
Her stomach tightened, but she didn’t respond. Cara realized it wasn’t so much what he wanted to tell her, but how he’d do his best not to break her heart. It was how she’d react that weighed on her. Ever since Glory showed up, prancing around, acting as if she had a right to Wrath, Cara had tried to prepare herself.
She’d been naïve when it came to Greg. His other life, the betrayal of women she thought of as close friends, had been a terrible lesson. Cara promised herself she’d never again be blindsided.
“Come on, babe. Let’s get you inside.” He lifted her from the truck, carrying her inside before she had a chance to protest. Walking straight into the bedroom, he set her down, drawing back the covers. “Climb in. I’m going to get you a glass of water so you’ll be ready to take your meds when it’s time.”
She started to object, stopping when a wave of nausea assaulted her. Maybe she should lay down, ignore the churning in her stomach at what was to come.
“Hold on. Let’s get you out of those clothes.” He set the glass next to the meds on the nightstand.
Batting away his hands, she dropped onto the bed. “I can do it.”
His features softened. “I’m sure you can, but you’re getting my help anyway.”
Instead of fighting it, Cara let him pull off her clothes and tuck her under the covers.
“Do you want to sleep for a while? I’ll make something to eat if you’re hungry.”
She stared at him, his chiseled features, the face she’d come to love, then shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”
Staring down at her, he nodded. “Well, I need something. I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday.”
Cara watched him leave, wondering how he could be so calm, so casual when he meant to flip her life upside down. Closing her eyes, she wondered how she’d allowed herself to fall in love, become vulnerable after the ordeal with Greg.
Wrath paced the front room, poking his head into the bedroom every few minutes to make sure Cara hadn’t woken. He’d spoken with Ethan, Rock, and Ghost. The members of the Night Devils who’d been at the rundown shack were in custody. It didn’t mean they had them all, but the raid and rescue of Cara would be a serious hit to the gang.
That left Drago and Demons Blood. Wrath crossed his arms, staring outside as he contemplated how to go about moving forward with the outlaw gang. Taking down Poison would help the Brethren strengthen their bond with the Blood, allow them to learn more about the merchandise they moved, the routes they took, and most importantly, their suppliers and customers.
It certainly didn’t hurt that Drago had hired Cara for legal work. He’d been furious at her abduction, offering his men, weapons, whatever Wrath needed to get her back. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he chuckled at the number of men his woman had charmed during the short time he’d known her. He included himself in the ever-growing group.
Checking the time, he struggled with the idea of a drink before noon. But hell, what he had to say required a measure of courage he didn’t feel. Giving in, he walked to a cabinet, removing a shot glass and bottle of whiskey. Pouring a healthy amount, he threw it back, letting the warmth calm what he’d always considered nerves of steel.
Hearing her stir, he set down the empty glass. Moving to the bedroom, he stood still, watching as she slowly woke up from a sleep lasting several hours. When she stretched her arms above her head, exposing her almost bare breasts, he sucked in a ragged breath.
“Ah hell,” he muttered under his breath, forcing himself to breathe in and out. When she moaned, he couldn’t take it any longer and moved to the bed. Leaning down, he tucked lengths of blonde hair behind her ears, ignoring the urge to kiss her. Right now wasn’t the time. Perhaps it never would be again.
“Caid?”
Her soft voice had him taking a seat next to her, stroking the back of his hand down her cheek.
“I’m right here, sweetheart.” He watched as she blinked a couple times, then stretched again. “How are you feeling?”
A small smile curved her lips before her eyes flew open and her gaze landed on his. The smile dimmed, her mouth taking on an unpleasant twist. Letting out a breath, he reached for her hand, but she drew it away.
“Do you need your meds?”
She shook her head, sad eyes watching him.
Unable to take the distrust in her gaze, he stood, shredding fingers through his hair. Sucking in a deep breath, he blew it out, turning to face her.
“If I could make it all go away, I would, Cara.”
She nodded, the knot in her chest before falling asleep reforming into a ball of ice. “I see.”
“What happened was all my fault. I didn’t keep you safe as I promised.” He paced a few feet away, then returned. “I made a major mistake letting Poison know of you without providing the protection you deserved.” When she didn’t respond, he continued. “You deserve better than what I offered, Cara, and I didn’t provide it.”
Clasping her hands together, she sucked in a breath, determined not to let his words destroy her. Her throat thickened, making a response impossible.
Picking up a chair, he turned it around, resting his arms on the back. “I wish there was something I could do about the past, but I can’t.”
Glancing at the ceiling, she prayed the tears wouldn’t fall. She wanted to be strong when he spoke his rejection.
He rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin, studying her face, seeing dread and a sickening sadness. “I ignored an important part of the culture in a motorcycle club, Cara. For that, I’m truly sorry.”
Her brows furrowed. “The culture of a club?”
The deep concern on his face relaxed at her question. “Yes, sweetheart.” When he reached out this time, she let him take her hand. “If a woman is unclaimed, she has no respect, none of the protection of a woman who’s been claimed.”
Eyes widening, she felt a surge of hope. “Claimed?”
He nodded. “You see, none of the men in the Brethren have a woman, so I’d never had to think it through.”
“Think through what?”
His dark gray gaze bored into hers. “Claiming you, Cara. Publicly. Letting everyone, including those in rival gangs, know you belong to me.”
Seeing the shock on her face, he almost chuckled. Instead, he rushed to explain.
“If I’d claimed you, Poison might not have gone after you. As it was, he thought taking you might draw me out, believing the kidnapping wouldn’t result in war between us. He thought you were just another woman in the club. A woman we’d promised protection.” Squeezing her hand, he willed her to understand. “If I’d been more public by claiming you, he might not have risked war by taking you. He’d have known you belonged to me, that I’d kill to get you back. I’m so sorry I didn’t understand this s
ooner.”
“Tell me what you mean in English.”
“Yeah, I guess I’m making a mess of this.” He ran a shaky hand down his face. “What I’m trying to say is I love you, Cara, and I want everyone to know, not hide it away as if it would keep you safe. Because, obviously, it didn’t.” When he tried to continue, she reached out, placing fingers over his lips.
“Can you repeat that, please? The part about loving me.”
Standing, he shoved the chair aside, sitting next to her on the bed. “I love you, Cara. Marry me, let me claim you as mine so everyone knows you belong to no one but me.”
The sadness in her features minutes before was replaced by cautious joy. “You want to marry me?”
A slight smile curved his lips. “Yes.”
“Because you love me and not because you’re doing it to keep me safe?”
For an instant, Cara thought she’d insulted him. Then his smile returned.
“Because I love you, Cara, more than you know. But if you don’t love—” He didn’t get any further before she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I love you, too, Caid. If you’re sure you want me, yes, I’ll marry you.”
Epilogue
Eight weeks later…
Rows of Harleys filled the parking lot at the lake, leaving little room for the cars and trucks of other guests. Caid kept an arm around Cara, unwilling to let her get even a few feet away.
Today’s wedding was for show, a public declaration of how much she meant to him, leaving no doubt of his claim on her. Demons Blood and members of associated clubs being the intended audience.
The real wedding took place at Freedom Meadow Ranch two weeks before in front of their families, friends, and a few members of Eternal Brethren wearing civilian clothes. The pastor of the church Caid attended as a boy officiated, Ethan standing as his best man, Quinn as his groomsman. On the other side, Cara had Tessa as her maid of honor and only attendant.
The picture today was quite different. Ghost and Rock stood next to Wrath, and over Cara’s objection, Tessa insisted on playing her role a second time. The ceremony had been quick, bowing to the more important event.
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