Chapter Twenty-Four

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Riff

Metal was blasting from the van, making my stomach cramp painfully, knowing why the music would need to be that loud, what kind of horror that could be trying to cover up.

My vision tunneled as I flew out of my car, running toward the van, reminding myself to thank Detroit for all the long hours in the gym, because I swore I made it there before I could even draw a breath.

Through the window, I saw the side of one of the men from the house in the woods. But he was sitting facing backward, watching… whatever was going on in the back.

And it was excitement and joy on the motherfucker's face.

Well, I would be all-too-happy to wipe that fucking look off.

I grabbed the handle, saying a silent prayer of gratitude when it pulled right open, unlocked.

The man didn't even get a chance to register what was happening before I was grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, and yanking him outward.

"The fuck—" was all he managed to say before my fist was colliding with his face.

Once.

Twice.

Blood flooded his mouth, spilling out like a horror movie.

He tried to grab for me, to put up some weak-ass defense.

But there was no fighting me, not right then, not with the fire raging through my veins, destroying everything in its wake.

I slammed him back against the van, watching his vision flicker at the impact of his skull on the steel.

And liking that way too much not to do it again.

And again.

And again.

"Yo!" a voice called, hands grabbing me under my arms, pulling me back. "He's down," he called as I glanced down to see the arms pulling me back.

They were covered in green and tan flannel.

Which could only mean one person.

Jack.

The owner of the motel.

"Let me go!" I roared. "Someone has my girl in that van."

At that, Jack immediately released me.

"I'll make sure he doesn't get up," he said, but I wasn't really paying attention.

Vienna was still in that van with at least one other man, the whole fucking vehicle rocking with their movements.

My stomach sloshed as awful images conjured up and flashed across my mind.

They didn't have long to take root, though, as I rounded the other side of the van, grabbed the handle and slid the door open.

The inside of the van flooded with light.

I seemed to see it all at once.

The dirty mattress on the floor.

The man holding his nose as blood seeped through his fingers.

And Vienna.

Vienna.

Looking like some fucking warrior woman, brandishing a wrench that was drenched in blood, as was her hand from holding it.

Her eyes were unfocused, trying to adjust to the brightness of the outdoors after the dark of the van.

I could see it when she saw it was me.

Her shoulders went slack.

Her face softened.

Relief.

Pure and utter relief.

I reached for her, lifting her out of the van, thanking whatever god was listening for the fact that she was, as far as I could tell, uninjured, still fully clothed.

I set her down on her feet, drinking her in for just a second.

Then I heard the howling sounds of the man in the van. The man responsible for all of Vienna's fears, her trauma.

I hated to leave her.

But this needed to end.

So I jumped into the van and slammed the door closed.

She didn't need to see this .

The fire that had already been blazing through me overtook me completely as I stared at the monster from Vienna's nightmares.

Well, it was time for someone to fucking slay him, wasn't it?

I didn't have any weapons on me.

But I had my fists.

And a lot of fucking hard surfaces in this van.

I thanked the, hopefully dead, driver for blasting the music, because the man's mouth opened over and over as I struck him, likely crying out in pain.

Good.

I wanted him to hurt.

I wanted him to know what it was like when someone took his control away, when he was made to feel powerless, when he was the fucking victim.

He fell backward with one particularly hard strike that I felt all the way up my arm, making my shoulder ache.

Reaching down, I grabbed his legs, pulling him off of the soft surface of the mattress.

As soon as his head was on the hard floor again, I came over him, trapping him with my legs, then reaching down to grab the sides of his head with both of my hands.

I yanked up.

Watched the horror on his face.

And felt my fucking lips curve up at it.

His mouth opened.

Maybe begging for mercy, I couldn't hear.

But he would get none.

Because he'd shown none to Vienna.

I slammed down.

Once, watching the light flicker in his eyes like it had for the driver.

But, no, it couldn't be that fast.

I held him aloft, pressing my weight down when he tried to struggle away.

I wanted him to choke on his fucking fear.

I wanted him to feel the sensation of not being able to get away.

It was the closest thing I could give him to a shackle on his leg.

Only after his lip started trembling and his eyes started to flood, knowing for sure that this was his end, and why, I slammed him down again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

I didn't stop.

Not even after the light fully left his eyes, after his face went slack, after his skull started to flatten from the impact.

By the time I did finally stop, I was winded, gasping for breath as I sat back, feeling aches in my arms, shoulder, and back from the exertion.

I sucked in a few deep breaths, using the dead fucker's shirt to wipe some stray blood off of my hands, then moved toward the door, suddenly painfully aware that Vienna was out there alone, scared, traumatized all over again.

Well, not alone.

With Jack.

But since she didn't even know him, that might make shit even worse for her emotionally.

I slid the door open just far enough to allow me to slide out, without showing anyone the body inside.

But the second I pulled it open, I found my brother, Slash, and Crow standing there waiting for me.

"Seemed like you enjoyed that," Crow said, yanking the door wider to look inside at the damage.

"He gone?" Slash asked.

"Yeah," I said as Raff leaned in the front passenger side to turn down the music.

"The other guy is too," Slash told me. "We gotta haul him in there."

I was nodding distractedly at him, but my gaze was scanning the back lot, trying to find a sign of Vienna anywhere.

"Coach took her into Jack's office," Raff explained. "She's okay. Shaken up, but okay."

"Gotta get her home," Slash added.

"I need—" I said, waving back toward the hideous maroon van. We always had to clean up our own messes.

"I got this," Raff assured me.

"I got it too," Crow agreed, nodding.

"I can't ask—"

"You're not asking," Raff cut me off.

Slash turned to those two, "This isn't all of them," he said. "If you can find any information in the van or on the bodies about where the others are living or staying, that's information we need. They need to go too."

Likely for various reasons.

One, they stole from us. Two, they tried to kill us. Three, they hurt Vienna. And, four, they would know that their friends had come to Shady Valley and hadn't come back.

All of them had to disappear.

"Why are you still standing here?" Slash asked, glancing over at me, then gesturing toward the motel.

I didn't need to be asked again, I ran around the building, making a beeline for Jack's office.

It was much like it had always been. Dark, cavernous, incredibly dated, lined in ancient filing cabinets that were piled with magazines, newspapers, and files.

Jack was sitting behind his dated faux wood desk that was fresh out of an old TV cop drama and covered in more paperwork, a radio, books, empty mugs of coffee, and an all-in-one computer that likely cost more than Jack's car.

Jack himself looked like I remembered him. Ruggedly handsome with wavy brown hair that danced along the collar of his flannel. His beard was a little fuller than usual, and his typically bored-looking blue eyes were filled with concern as he looked at the two chairs across from his desk.

That was where Coach and Vienna were settled, both of them taking slow, deep breaths, as Coach quietly guided her through a meditation.

Hearing me enter, Jack's head lifted, giving me a nod of acknowledgment.

I stood there silently, letting Coach and Vienna finish.

Coach opened his eyes first, noticing me, then wrapping up their meditation.

"Okay," he said, and I watched as Vienna's eyes flickered open, having that faraway haze they always did when she just finished a meditation. Almost like she was drunk off of it.

They cleared slowly as she looked at Coach.

It wasn't until Coach tilted his head toward the door that she realized they were no longer alone.

"Reid," she breathed out, making my heart swell. I'd never get sick of hearing her say my name.

She flew out of her chair then, rushing toward me, knocking me back a step as she collided with me, her arms squeezing me tight as she buried her face in my chest.

"Are you okay?" I asked, squeezing her tight for a moment before letting my hands drift up and down her back.

"I am now," she said, holding me tighter still as Jack and Coach both silently stood up, and walked out of the office, giving us some privacy. "I knew you would come."

"But you saved yourself," I reminded her. "Even without all of your usual weapons. You were so fucking strong, darlin'."

She made a sniffling sound, and I just held her tighter, letting her work through the tears as she clung to me.

"He's never going to touch you again," I vowed.

That had her finally pulling back, her lashes still gathering some tears, but her eyes were clear.

"Never again," I added, voice firm, watching the understanding cross her pretty eyes.

"Good," she said, nodding. "But…"

"There's nothing to worry about," I told her. "It's all being handled."

She'd asked once if the club ever killed people. And I'd been honest with her. We did when it was necessary, when people were trying to hurt us.

She understood what had happened.

And what, exactly, I meant by things being handled.

"How about we go back home?" I asked, chafing her arms with my hands. "Get something warm to drink, decompress, play with Vernon…"

"Okay," she agreed, leaning her forehead against my chest for another moment before finally pulling away.

I wrapped an arm around her, and turned us outside to find that someone, likely Coach, had moved my car right outside the office, so I didn't have to bring Vienna back where the van was located again.

"Come on, darlin'," I said, shuffling her into the passenger seat, then getting us the hell out of there.

The ride back to the clubhouse was relatively short, but the silence grew between us as I kept sneaking glances at Vienna, but found her turned away, facing out her side window, hiding whatever she was thinking from me.

Morgaine was waiting inside the front door of the clubhouse holding Vernon, who she quickly passed to Vienna, who immediately snuggled him close as she walked across the clubhouse, heading toward the stairs.

"Go be with her," Morgaine said.

"Maybe she needs you," I said, knowing that I was her comfort person, but that Morgaine understood what she was going through better.

"No, she needs you," Morgaine said, pushing me forward.

By the time I made it upstairs, Vienna was placing Vernon onto his tree stand, pressing a kiss to his head as she kicked out of her sneakers, then started to unbutton her jacket.

"V?" I called, feeling completely fucking clueless as to what to say.

"I want to take a bath," she told me as the jacket fell to the floor, and she moved over to the dresser to find a change of clothes. "I need to… wash that away," she added.

"Okay," I agreed. "Do you want me to get it ready for you?"

"Sure," she agreed, voice small.

With that, I rushed across the hall, giving the tub a quick scrub, then filling it with water the exact level of hell she liked it at, then dropping in soap and a bath bomb, watching the colors spread and the bubbles build.

The door opened behind me, and Vienna moved in, placing her clothes on the sink, then methodically gathering her towels and a luffa.

"Wait," she called as I silently started to back out of the bathroom to give her privacy.

She was setting her phone on the sink counter, selecting one of her playlists full of calming music, and turning it up before facing me.

"Stay," she demanded.

I didn't want to make her ask again, so I closed the door behind me, locked it, and leaned against it.

"Okay," I agreed.

"Come in with me," she added, hands already going for her pants, working the button and zipper free, then pushing them down her legs.

We silently undressed together, and it was maybe the first time since knowing her that her being nude didn't immediately make my cock hard.

This wasn't about that, though, and the tension in her body seemed to seep into mine as well.

When she paused by the tub, seeming to wait for something, I moved to step in first, lying back against the tub.

And then she was sliding in with me, curled up into herself, hugging her knees for a moment. Then slowly lowering back against me.

Only then did I wrap my arms around her, one arm around her center, the other over the top of her chest.

It was like all of the tension that was coiled in her body released in a wave at the contact, leaving her lax against me.

"How are you doing?" I asked, at a loss of what else to say.

"I'm okay," she said, sucking in a deep breath. "I feel like I should be… less okay than I am."

"It might still come," I said, shrugging. "But that's okay. We can take a trip to see Dr. Swift tomorrow, if you need."

"I saw her today," she admitted.

"Yeah, I may have barged in there when I couldn't find you. Did it go okay?"

"I think I owe you a bit of an apology."

"No, you don't."

"I kind of do."

"You have every right to be mad at me. Or to feel distrustful of me. I shouldn't have kept that from you."

"It's not just that," she said. "That's part of it, feeling like you've been lying," she said, making my guts twist even if, at the time, I felt like I'd been doing the right thing.

Clearly, I shouldn't have trusted my gut on that one. First, because she was hurt by the dishonesty. But second, because had she known we went there and that the men were gone, she might have been more aware of the potential for them to show up. Maybe all of this could have been avoided.

"But I think most of the bad feelings were more about my PTSD rushing back and taking over me."

"I understand that. You were really upset. Can't tell you how sorry I am about that."

"I know," she said, sucking in a deep breath. "I'm sorry for rushing out too."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," I insisted.

"We need to be able to discuss things."

"Sure," I agreed. "But it's not unhealthy to take some space first to get our emotions under control before we talk. Things are different with us right now than normal couples. You are still trying to learn ways to cope with your trauma and PTSD. It's okay if we are kind of tripping through this for a while until we find our stride."

"Yeah," she agreed, turning her head to rest the side of her face against my chest.

I reached for the luffa, dipping it into the water to gather some of the soap, and starting to rub it across her chest, down her arms, over her belly, down her legs as far as I could reach.

She went loose against me, her breathing slow and deep. Like I was literally washing away what was left of her anxiety and fear.

Silently, she turned, sliding her legs over mine and nuzzling her face into my neck as I started to wash her back.

We stayed just like that until the water grew cool, making a shiver rack Vienna's body.

We climbed out silently and dried off.

I snuck out in just my towel, going across the hall to get some fresh clothes, knowing mine could contain blood that I didn't want tracing back to my crimes.

By the time I was dressed, Vienna was coming in, going to her wardrobe to get a hoodie and then one of her giant cardigans and, finally, fluffy socks.

I tamped down my worries that she was going to go back into her cocoon again, reminding myself that healing wasn't linear, that it would be okay if she was diving into her nest and books for another few days or weeks after such a traumatic event.

There was a soft knock at the door, making Vienna jolt before Coach leaned his head in.

"Detroit made food," he said. "Breakfast," he added with a knowing smile. Everyone was aware that Vienna's favorite meal was breakfast. Especially the carb-heavy shit like pancakes, waffles, and French toast.

"You hungry?" I asked.

"Starving," she said, grabbing Vernon, and following me back down into the common area.

I watched as Vienna loaded her plate then steadily worked her way through it all while listening to Colter share some stories about his travels in the military, clearly just trying to keep the mood light.

Eventually, Vienna made her way back upstairs with Morgaine, and I stayed back to speak to Slash about all the shit that had gone down.

Rook, apparently, had been able to track down the movements of Marshall thanks to the cell phones that were found in the van.

Which gave Crow and Raff a direction to move in, but only after picking up Sway and Judge, just to make sure there was no way they would be outnumbered.

"I should be going," I said, feeling torn in two directions.

"You need to be here with Vienna," Slash insisted. "Think you racked up enough bodies for yourself today."

He wasn't wrong.

I'd taken out Vienna's abuser.

Now, I needed to be her comfort person again.

When I made my way back into the room, she was under her pile of blankets, but as soon as she saw me, she pulled the covers away to let me slide inside with her, then slid up on my chest like she did every other night.

"Reid?" she called what felt like ages later, when I thought she had drifted off to sleep.

"Yeah, darlin'?"

"Thank you."

"You have nothing to thank me for."

"You've saved me twice now," she said, her fingers tracing something against my chest that felt suspiciously like a heart.

"Would save you a thousand times if I needed to," I told her, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head.

"Well, let's just hope we can keep it at two," she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

"I think that's a good idea," I agreed.

"I don't really even know what life will look like now that I don't ever have to worry about him again," she admitted.

"It can look however you want," I told her.

"However we want," she corrected.

"However we want," I agreed, really looking forward to seeing what that might be.