Chapter 48

Ryker

Don't ask me how I make it to Tara's apartment as fast as I do. I don't remember leaving my office. I don't remember calling my boys. I don't remember getting on my bike. I don't remember climbing the steps to her floor. I don't remember kicking down her door.

But I will always remember her face when she sees me.

Tara sits on the floor with a knife in her hands. She's bloody. Shaking. Hyperventilating. When she sees me rushing towards her, my girl scrambles over to me on her hands and knees.

"I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay." She claws her way into my arms and wraps herself around me. "I'm okay."

The fuck she is.

All my aggression funnels into a soft, calm, deadly tone. "Where is he, baby?" After a quick scan around the living room, I find the sonofabitch lying flat on his back behind the couch. "Is he dead?"

"I don't think so." Tara's shaking like a leaf. "I hit him in the back of the head with… with…"

I don't think she remembers.

"Shhh." Stroking her hair, my mind races with which action to take first. Kill him or comfort her.

Garret groans from the floor and Tara squirms violently out of my arms. She stumbles around the couch and punt kicks the motherfucker square in the ribs.

It looks like she's done that a few times already, now that I'm closer.

"Fuck you!" She spits on him. "Fuck you!" she screams again. "I hate you. You sick fuck!"

My girl's unhinged, and she's scared out of her goddamn mind.

That's when I see the blood dripping down her legs.

Fuck. NO.

Tara wipes the blood dripping from her nose with the back of her hand. "He didn't touch me," she says loudly. I wonder if her ears are ringing like mine are. "He didn't rape me." Her body trembles. "He… he didn't get the chance. He didn't..."

I'm on her in a flash. "You did so good, baby." I kiss her forehead, driving her backwards with a firm grip on her arms. "I'm so fucking proud of you."

She deftly walks backwards, letting me steer her out of the apartment. "Look at me, Tara." She's not shaking so violently anymore. That's a good sign. "I need you to go outside and wait for D and the others."

Her brow pinches. "Others?"

"Yeah." I roll up my sleeves. "Can you do that for me, Butterfly?"

Her eyes are bloodshot and glassy. "What are you going to do?"

I shake my head. The less she knows, the better.

"Don't kill him," she says, grabbing my arm. Her nails bite into my skin and the sharp pain grounds me a little. "I don't want him dead."

I do. "He's not worth saving, Tara."

"But you are." Tears slip down her face. "The fear of you going to jail is way worse than the fear of him coming after me again."

Emotions catch in my throat as a stampede storms up the stairwell and Dmitri busts through the door. Vault and Knox are right behind him.

D's gaze sails down her body, landing on her bloody thighs. "Tara, are you…" The horror in his eyes lances my heart. "Did he…" Fuck, D can't even finish that sentence.

I shake my head, answering for her.

Hearing my girl scream on the other end of the line while I was miles away from her will give me nightmares for the rest of my life. I think the only reason I'm calm right now is because the severity of the situation still hasn't completely sunk in yet.

Dmitri pulls Tara in for a hug. "We've got you, baby girl." He looks over at me and the kindness he shows Tara transforms to cruelty when he asks me, "What do you want to do with him?"

"Carry him out through the back alley and back to the club."

Tara doesn't want me to kill him, but I'll make damn sure this motherfucker wishes he was dead by the time we're through with him.

???

Seven hours later, I think I've made my point. Garret's in and out of consciousness, so I can't really ask him to repeat all the lessons in manners we've taught him.

Our session in the basement took longer than I realized. Once I started swinging, I couldn't stop. Dmitri and the others had to pry me off the sorry piece of shit several times because they knew I'd turn him to pulp. Fuck, I wanted to kill him so badly, the dimly lit basement hazed red. I couldn't think straight.

"Go to your girl," D ordered, and I obeyed. Splitting my energy between comforting Tara upstairs and protecting her down here might have driven me insane.

I need to see her. Touch her. Kiss every wound and cocoon her in my safe arms.

But halfway up to the Butterfly suite, I stall out. Shit, I should shower and change before I see Tara. She'll know I'm a monster if she sees me covered in this much blood.

A quick pivot and I'm on a detour. My plan to spare her the gory mess fails when I find her in my office with Sophie guarding the door.

My furious gaze says it all. She was supposed to stay with Tara in the Butterfly suite. She should have followed my motherfucking orders.

"I wasn't about to stop her," Sophie says, putting her hands up like this wasn't her idea.

She steps out of my way, and I open the door.

Tara sits in my chair, her beautiful face glowing from the monitors. Her eyes are puffy, and the tip of her nose is red. I don't have to look to know she's watched what we've done to her stepbrother on the surveillance footage.

Fuck.

"I told you I was a monster." And now she knows the lengths I'll go to for her.

Tara doesn't cringe. She doesn't run. Hell, she doesn't even blink as she calmly closes the space between us and cups my cheeks with a steady hand. "You're my monster."

When it comes to those I love, there's no line I won't cross for them.

"Take me to him, Ry."

Hell no. "That's not a good idea."

"Ryker."

Shit. Why deny her request when she's watched the carnage already? Maybe it's better if she sees. Maybe it'll paint a clearer picture of who she belongs to.

Please don't run away when you see what I've done for you.

Silently leading her through the club and down past Dmitri's dungeon, we dump into an old utility room. The scent of blood, sweat, and piss is pungent.

The instant Tara sees her stepbrother tied to a chair, blood pouring out of his swollen face, his arms bent in the wrong direction, and legs cut up, she freezes.

Bringing her down here was a bad fucking idea. D, Vault, and Knox are all glaring at me with What the fuck is wrong with you looks on their faces.

Tara quietly prowls closer to Garret. "Which one of you did that to his face?"

We all took turns. She'll have to be more specific about the injury she's referring to. "Does it matter?" I ask.

"Yes." She won't look away from her stepbrother.

"Me," I answer. "The others got their shots in after they dragged me away for a breather."

Tara's exhale rattles out of her. "Is he going to live?"

I hope not, but probably. "Didn't cut anything vital."

She nods and licks her lips. "Dmitri." Tara blindly holds her hand out. "Give me your knife."

"I don't have one."

"I do." Knox lifts his into the air.

I step between them and hand her my switchblade. If she's going to use something, it'll come from me and no one else. "Here."

She takes it calmly. Too calmly. I cross my arms and wait to see what she's going to do with it.

Tara leans down and gets mere inches away from Garret's swollen face. With her chin trembling, she holds the blade to his throat.

"You remember this," she seethes. "You remember this moment, Garret Brisbane. While you're bound and broken and beaten to shit, with piss running down your motherfucking legs, you remember that I'm the one who spared you. Me." She presses the blade to his throat harder and blood blooms under it. "You will never get another chance, do you understand?"

He groans.

"Do you understand!" she yells in his face.

Garret slowly nods.

"No one from the Brisbane family will ever come near me again." Tara grabs him by the hair and pulls it. "Is that clear?"

Blood pours from the injuries we made on his face and neck. "Y-yes."

She removes the blade from his throat and lets go of him. "Now we're going to get you to the hospital and you're going to say you don't know who attacked you because they knocked you out before you could see their face." She palms the handle of my switchblade and shoves the tip against his dick. "And if you ever even whisper my name, or try to contact me ever again, I'll cut your dick off and feed it to you." Without flinching, my girl shoves the blade down, slicing right through his pants.

He screams like a stuck pig.

I'm pretty sure she's pierced one of his balls.

"Do. You. Understand?" She twists the knife, and he wails louder, frantically nodding his head.

I once said I was the devil and her demons adore me, but after tonight, I think it's the other way around. Fucking hell, I'm so in love with this woman.

Tara snatches Garret by his hair and yanks the blade out of his nuts. Cool as a cucumber, she heads over to me and asks, "Is it too late for that fondue? I'm starving."

What. The. Fuck. Is my girl in shock or just as crazy as me?

"Honey," Knox says, folding his arms. "After tonight, not a single one of us is going to deny you a damn thing. You want fondue? You got it. You can have anything you fucking want."

Tara's gaze remains deadlocked on me. "Anything at all?"

"Whatever you want," I say, wrapping my arms around her.

"Grilled cheese and chocolate pudding."

My heart explodes.

"God damn, you two really are made for each other," Knox says with a laugh.

Dmitri crosses his arms. "Told you."

"Looks like we've got a new member of the family, boys." Vault announces with a big grin.

"What do you say to that, Butterfly?" I press my forehead to hers. "Can I keep you?"

"Yes, please."

I smash my mouth to hers, driving her out of the utility room and away from Garret for good.

"We'll clean up here," D promises. "Take your girl home."

"Yeah," Tara says, her eyes glassy and cheeks flushed. "Take me home, Mr. Hudson."

"Whatever the Butterfly wants, she gets."