“Doesn’t mean we stop trying. Justice needs to be served. And I promised Dawn I’d do my best to get her justice.”
Cade toyed with Dawn’s curls, his fingers brushing over the back of her neck. Damn she was soft—soft skin, soft hair, and a soft heart. But he was learning she had a core of steel inside.
“There’s the big difference between us,” Cade said. “I serve justice hot. You serve it cold.”
Benson tipped his chin, a tacit acknowledgment of the truth of Cade’s words. There was no due process in biker culture. No rules or laws or procedures that had to be followed. Biker justice was swift, and often brutal, but it was always effective. Just as it had been the other night.
One down. Five to go.
“Dawn, you want to give that statement now, or after your friend leaves?” Benson picked up his legal pad, but Cade didn’t heed his dismissive tone. He wanted to hear the details of the assault as much as Benson did, but unlike Benson he would do something about it.
Dawn studied Cade intently, her eyes boring into him as if she could see into his soul. Well, there wasn’t much to see except a black hole that he’d spent a lifetime trying to fill with countless women in countless beds, and enough whiskey to ensure his remains would be well preserved when he finally passed.
“You can stay.”
Score! He caught Benson’s gaze and made no effort to hide his triumphant grin. Take that, bastard. She wants me.
Benson’s hand tightened around his pen, but to his credit he remained professional. “That’s fine. You can give me the details, and after you’re done, you can talk to someone in our Victim Services—”
“I’m not a victim,” she said abruptly. “I’m a fighter. That’s why I’m here.”
“Damn right,” Cade said. “Of course, coming here is the equivalent of trying to fight Mad Dog with a feather, but as a civilian you’re doing the best with what you’ve got.”
Benson put down his pad. “I take offense at that statement.”
“Good. It was meant to be offensive.” Cade stared at the scowling deputy. “Admit it, Benson. This is a biker town, and in a biker town the police have no power. You get Dawn’s girls back yet? You got Mad Dog jail? And Victim Services? How’s that gonna stop him?”
“I didn’t choose the name and the unit is there to help people who have suffered as the result of a crime.” Benson shifted in his seat. “Looking at Dawn’s face, I would say she suffered. And as for being a feather…”
“You’re not going to win that one, Benson.” Cade gave him a grin. “Don’t even try. Plus, I got a plan to keep Dawn safe.”
“What plan?” Dawn turned to him and frowned.
“Later. Benson already looks pale. Don’t want to give him a heart attack by revealing too much about our evil biker ways.”
Dawn tipped her head down, hiding a smile. “I kinda like your evil biker ways,” she murmured.
His groin tightened and he leaned over to whisper, “Next time I get you in bed, I’m gonna show you just how evil my biker ways can be.”
“Cade!”
He threw back his head and laughed. Really laughed. He loved the way she shrieked his name.
*
Dawn gave her statement and answered Doug’s questions with Cade’s arm around her shoulders the entire time. Although she considered shifting his arm away, especially since his overt possessiveness clearly made Doug uncomfortable, she liked his warmth and quiet support. Even Doug had never made her feel as safe.
“If you change your mind about Victim Services, the number is here.” Doug slid a piece of paper across the desk. “And if you think of anything else…”
“I’ll call.” Dawn moved to stand, and Cade helped her from her seat.
Chivalry. From a biker. Fancy that.
“Anytime,” Doug said. “You have my number.”
Dawn made her way to the door after a farewell wave. Yes, she had Doug’s number, but she suspected the reminder wasn’t entirely directed at her.
Friends since meeting at Doug’s self-defense class at the community college, she and Doug had met up for coffee every few weeks for the past year and often bumped into each other at the monthly get-togethers with their self-defense class. Doug made it clear early on he was interested in more than friendship, but Dawn turned him down again and again. He was too nice, too straight, too rigid, too … good for a girl with a wild side and a résumé that included aiding and abetting a criminal organization, and stripping in some of Montana’s seediest clubs.
“Is he still watching?” Cade slid an arm around Dawn’s waist and pulled her into his side.