Doug and Ally shared a glance and then Ally paled. “Um … he couldn’t make it, but he was relieved we were coming out. Maybe we can talk about it later.”
Holt didn’t like the look Doug and Ally shared, or the pain that flitted across Naiya’s face. Who was this loser of a boyfriend who didn’t come out the second he heard his woman was in danger? And why would he have let her go to Devil’s Hills alone if he knew Viper wanted her? The dude was a fucking moron and needed some sense pounded into him. Too bad he didn’t have the balls to show because Holt was of a mind to teach him what it meant to be a man.
“Appreciated, but I’m good.” He grabbed his shirt. “I’m glad she’s got friends to take care of her. Keep her outta sight for the next week. If you give me a number, I’ll text when it’s safe again.”
“You won’t last a week if those wounds aren’t treated.” Ally gestured to his chest. “I might be pissed, but I made a promise to Naiya I’d look after you and I will. So on the bed, biker boy. Lose the sweats. Find a towel. And assume the position.” She looked over at Doug, now sprawled in a chair. “I need my bag, babe.
Doug jumped up like the chair was on fire, and lumbered out the door. “Back in five.”
Holt fixed the crazy bitch with a stare. Hard enough to accept her help, but no fucking way was he letting a chick boss him around. Either Doug had been born without balls or she’d stolen them from him when he was asleep.
“Please,” Naiya whispered.
She’d deflated after hearing the boyfriend hadn’t come, her shoulders sagging, the spark going from her eyes. Curious how that more than anything they’d been through since meeting in Viper’s dungeon had affected her. He supposed a person who liked to plan everything didn’t deal so well with unexpected change. It made her seem less assured, more vulnerable, and it roused in him a fierce need to protect her.
Which, of course, he couldn’t do if he was injured, or if he walked out the door.
“Naiya will sit beside me,” he said. Maybe if she had something to do, she wouldn’t look so lost.
Half an hour later, as Ally tended his wounds, and Doug ran back and forth to the bathroom for water and hot towels, Holt confirmed his Doug diagnosis. Pussy whipped.
Christ. How did the dude put up with it? Any woman tried to order him around like that, he’d put her in her place pretty damn fast. Ally reminded him of a sexy, young reporter he and Tank had met once in a bar, Ella Masters. Holt had tried to put the moves on her, but she was having none of it. For every step he made forward, she pushed him two back while Tank chuckled in the corner. Finally Holt went for broke, sliding his hand up her skirt as he whispered all the dirty things he wanted to do to her back at the clubhouse. His plan backfired big time. She dumped a beer over his head and told him exactly where he could stick his cock, and it wasn’t anywhere near her sweet pussy.
He felt a pang of longing as he remembered the good times he’d had with Tank—the rides, the bars, the parties, the women, the jokes they’d played on each other, secrets they’d shared … Hell, Tank had been as close to him as a blood brother—the first true friend he’d ever had. But weren’t friends supposed to be with you through thick and thin? If Tank had been taken, Holt would never have given up the fight. Not for a minute. He would have given his life to bring Tank home.
“You okay?” Naiya stroked his damp hair as Ally dabbed antiseptic into one of the more recent cuts on his back.
“Yeah.” He liked having Naiya near, knowing he could touch her, protect her if Viper walked in the door. He’d always thought scientists were a cold, calculating bunch, but Naiya was all warmth and compassion.
“He’s as a strong as an ox,” Ally said. “And as thick-headed, too. I’m guessing he was concussed a couple of times, broken ribs, broken nose, broken fingers and toes, broken arm—some of the breaks haven’t set right, by the way—internal bleeding, permanent scars and skin damage from whips, chains, cuffs and burns, infected lacerations, bruises upon bruises upon bruises, blunt trauma to the head, and the list goes on.”
“No shit.” Doug pulled up a chair, and Ally narrowed her gaze.
“Don’t sit.”
“You need something, babe?” He jerked to stand, and Holt wondered how he functioned as a cop. If he couldn’t control his woman, how the heck did he keep criminals in line?
“I need you to take all this stuff to our room. I’ll shoot Holt up with painkillers and antibiotics and let him sleep, then I’ll check him over in the morning.”