The ride to the clubhouse was tense. I didn’t feel right about bringing Nic with me, but I also didn’t feel right about leaving her at the house all scared and fucked up. Not that she was showing she was scared or fucked up. Truth be told, she mostly looked pissed. But that’s how she is. She’s good about hiding her emotions when she wants to. Still, I couldn’t deny her this. If she needs to see the prick take a beating to feel better, that’s what I’ll give to her.
Inside the clubhouse, in the game room, the pool table has been pushed aside. Diesel and Grady stand on either side of Darren, making sure he doesn’t move an inch. Across the room, leaning up against the wall, is Jeremy. His arms are folded, and his eyes are trained on Darren like he might kill him if he flinches wrong. I know the feeling, but I check myself before I make a mess that we can’t get out. We’ll be able to get blood off the concrete, but not so much off the pool table or the sofa.
“She shouldn’t be here,” Diesel says, catching my eye and lifting his chin at Nic, who follows behind me.
“She needs this,” I say and defy any one of my brothers to say a word. Shit’s upside down right now and I don’t know what Jeremy told them. He did well tonight. I’d rather he had let me call my brothers, but that’s selfish. He saw a way to help his sister—my woman—and he took it. And he did it the right way, knowing this was club business. Can’t be mad at that.
Wyatt strides in behind us carrying a wrench, a large flathead screwdriver, and a large bottle of bleach. He sets the wrench and the screwdriver down on the pool table and the bleach on the floor. With a nod of his head, Grady and Diesel each grab one of Darren’s arms and lift him off the couch. His eyes are wide, and he struggles, but is totally outmatched by my brothers. They shove him to his knees, and each places a foot on his ankles to keep him in place.
“Come here, kid,” Wyatt says to Jeremy, who responds immediately. Wyatt directs him to stand behind Darren and to hold him by the hair so he can’t turn away. “Prove to me that you’ve got enough heart for this club.”
Jeremy grabs Darren’s hair at the roots and yanks his head up with both hands. I turn to Nic and place a kiss on her temple. “You don’t have to watch this.”
“Yes I do,” she says. As much as I wish she weren’t here, I can see that she’s resolved.
“He scared you—back then?” I ask.
“He separated me from everything I ever loved,” she says just loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. Jeremy’s grip on Darren’s hair tightens, and both Diesel and Grady twist their boots into his ankles. Darren squirms uncomfortably and whimpers in pain.
“You never have to feel that way again,” I say and place a hand on her stomach. There’s nothing physically there to feel, but I swear—now that I know she’s got my baby inside her, I can sense the difference. I might be crazy as fuck, but I’ve been hot for this girl for a decade now. “What we got going on, it ain’t gonna end. We got this shit.”
I can feel my brothers watching us, but I don’t give a fuck. This is for her, not them. “But before we can move on, we got to end this. All that shit he did to you—you let it out now, baby. Let him have it.”
Once again, I underestimate her. I expect her to tell me that she can’t, or she’s afraid. But she does none of those things. She just stretches up on her tip toes and gives me a kiss. When she pulls away, she walks over to the pool table then moves to stand in front of Darren.
With watchful eyes, Wyatt comes to stand beside me. He says, “I wouldn’t let my woman in on this shit.”
I shake my head and say, “The only woman you got is your right hand and the Lost Girls. Nic can handle this shit. Remember who her dad is.”
Just as I finish my sentence, Nic brings the wrench back and then slams it into the side of Darren’s face. His head drops forward, but Jeremy pulls him back up so he’s facing her. She leans over and screams in his face, “That was one.”
She rears back and brings the wrench down to his upper arms as hard as she can. I stand in silence, realizing how angry she is and what she’s capable of. The sight before me reminds me to never hurt her as bad as he has. She wasn’t a woman she might be able to prospect, because fuck if she ain’t handling her shit.
“That’s two. You have eight more,” she hisses.