Page 11 of The Big Bad's Claim
“Fuck, Blaise,” someone hisses behind us. I pull back to see Blaise’s friends from the club standing in a circle. One of them closes the front door. “We have some cleanup to do. And fast.”
“Is he dead?” another one asks, kicking Todd’s foot.
“No,” Blaise replies, an arm folded around my waist, wetness clinging through his shirt to mine. “Someone paid him to get to us. I let him live so we can figure out who did it.”
And in the back of my mind, I want to ask what’s going to happen to Todd. The man who betrayed me, who used me, who threatened me, and my loved ones. It might be a sign of evil in me, but I don’t care, so I don’t ask. I keep my mouth shut as I nudge Blaise away from me and wipe the tears off my face.
“You should get to a hospital,” I tell him. “Please,” I beg the men standing in a circle, “please, please, get him to a hospital.”
Blaise helps me to my feet, then kisses the top of my head. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. We still have much more to live together. Besides, I’m too possessive and too stubborn to leave you alone.”
8
BLAISE
Under usual circumstances, no one would catch me dead in a hospital. First, they’re expensive as shit. Second, you’re forced to identify yourself, and I’ve been on the watchlist of too many people to be comfortable with it. I was shot, yeah, but it was a clean wound—bullet went in and out past my shoulder, didn’t hit any major arteries or anything. Definitely broke a clavicle, but that won’t kill me. Probably.
What I’m saying is, I’ve been given stitches out of a hospital before, and I never died because of them.
But Kenna wouldn’t have that. She’s been under too much stress already, with that fucker calling her and threatening us, and having run home by herself, and seeing the fight... So, I go to the hospital. Only because she asks me.
Wrath has to work his way through favors and bribes to keep my identity a secret while I’m being stitched up. Once they bandage me and give me the okay, I sneak out of the back of the hospital, where a few of my brothers wait for me.
“Kenna?” I ask as soon as I see them.
Wrath tilts his lips into a half-smile. “You were shot, then put half your money into bribery, and the first thing you ask is about your woman. Of course.”
I merely arch an eyebrow in wait. Of course, that’s the case. They should know it by now, she’s the one thing that matters to me. Her safety, her well-being. If she isn’t well, then nothing is worth it.
Wrath chuckles. “She’s back at the club. The others are monitoring her.”
I sigh in relief. “What about that fucker?” I don’t even feel like saying his name as I throw a leg over Wrath’s bike. It’s the biggest among the ones parked here, so Wrath will have to share his seat with me, even when we usually hate that.
Everyone takes their seats, Wrath included. “In the basement,” he says, flipping the keys on his bike. “Poison is taking care of him.”
Poison, our enforcer. Good. Poison always does thorough work on torturing secrets out of people, using the cleanest, meanest methods out there. I just hope the basement walls can keep Todd’s screams from Kenna’s ears. She doesn’t need to see that part of my job.
We ride back to the club and park in front. I nod in Wrath’s direction with gratitude, then make my way to my room, anxious to see Kenna’s face. Whatever Wrath has to say, I need to see her. I need to be sure she’s safe.
Opening the door to the bedroom, I comb the space with my gaze, searching for her. Kenna shoots to her feet from where she sat, at the very edge of the mattress, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. She sees me and her eyes veil over with tears. I hate the sight of them.
We race into each other and I hold her against my chest, burying my nose into her hair to breathe her in. “God, gorgeous,” I breathe out. “You had me worried.”
She props her chin on my chest. “How are you feeling?” she asks in a tiny voice.
Squeezing her fingers, I guide her back to the bed, then sit down, pulling her to my lap. I take a minute to check on her, to make sure she’s fine and as untouched as I left her. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. It’s been taken care of. I will live.”
Kenna nods, tracing the collar of my shirt, and fingering the bandages that peek from beneath. “What about Todd?”
His name starts a deep hatred inside me. I grind my teeth together to avoid showing. She doesn’t need it now. “He’s been dealt with, too.”
Kenna stares at me with wide eyes. “Is he dead?”
I shake my head. “No. We need to find out who sent him first. But he will be. Soon.” I can’t bear the idea of him out there, wanting to get revenge on her. Folding a hand around her hips, I bring her closer. “This is how we do it, Kenna. It’s not pretty, but that’s how we keep each other safe.”
“I understand,” she says in a voice so small it’s barely a whisper. For a moment, I fear she won’t like this. That she’ll beg me to let him live. Instead, she shrugs. “If he lives, he’ll come after us again and again. He’ll hurt my mother. My friends. He will never stop.”
“That’s true.”
