32. Winter

Bright and early thenext day, I knocked at Selena's mom's front door. She let me in and directed me upstairs to Selena's room.

She was an unmoving lump under the covers.

"Rise and shine," I said, taking off my shoes and jacket and getting into the opposite side of the bed.

"Why are you here?" Her voice was muffled.

"Because you're here and you're my friend and I wanted to see you." I reached out and tugged at her thick hoodie. "Please talk to me."

Silence fell for the longest time before she spoke. "Has Trent been to see you?"

"Yes, he came to the game the other night, talking all kinds of crazy shit."

Selena turned over. "It's not crazy. I mean, it is, but it's real at the same time. Did he threaten you?"

I shrugged. "I don't care if he does. What's he going to do?" I muttered. Trent's words echoed in my head. Threatening my loved ones was more of a worry.

Selena swallowed hard. "He does that. He uses info on people you care about. When it seemed sketchy at the Cove, and I wanted to leave, he threatened Cici."

My stomach turned. Selena's little kid sister.

"He uses that to make sure you can't go to the cops. If you could find one he hasn't corrupted, that is. They have all angles covered."

"I don't understand what The Cove is," I confessed.

"It's everything. A gambling den, a place to buy and deal drugs and flesh. The women there — I don't think they want to be. It was hell on earth. I thought he was going to kill me, or one of the other men would—" she broke off into sobs.

One of the other men?

I pulled her close and stroked her hair. A deep and striking terror hit me. Trent and his dad were crazy, but they were powerful. It sounded like they had a lot of money, muscle, and influence at their disposal. They weren't the kind of people you wanted to get on the wrong side of.

And it looked like I'd landed right in their crosshairs. I'd go to my dad and tell him everything. He'd know what to do. It was the only solution. He'd fix it. He always did.

I didn't push Selena to talk too much. She wouldn't entertain the thought of the cops, thanks to Trent's threats.

Instead, I tried to distract her. We watched trashy movies and ate too much junk food. Gradually, Selena's eyes dried, and the haunted look left her face. Not all the way, but it was a start. All the while, a growing apprehension came over me. Something bad was going to happen. I could feel it.

I went outside to answer the phone when Asher called. I hadn't even thought about how to tell him about his dad, I just knew it couldn't be today. Why did Alan have to be so efficient?

"Missing me already?" I teased him when I answered. In a day when my brain was threatening to pop from too much information, I wanted to hear Asher's voice.

"Winter, it's Eve."

I jerked the phone from my ear and checked the display. Nerves ripped through me like wildfire.

"What's wrong?" I asked immediately. Why would Eve be calling me from her brother's phone? Trent had threatened Asher just yesterday and I'd called his bluff and refused to believe he had any kind of real power over us. I felt sick as I waited for Eve to explain.

"He didn't want me to call you, but Asher came off his bike this morning. He's at the hospital getting checked out."

"What!" A pure shot of adrenaline hit me. "I'm on my way."

I got to the hospital and could barely remember the journey. It seemed wrong that Asher could be injured. He was too capable. Too in control of his body and surroundings.

A nurse pointed me in the right direction, and and I marched through the ward until I found his room number, snapping open the curtain in a panic. Asher was sitting back against the headboard, his boots and jacket folded neatly by the bedside chair.

"Why didn't you call me?" I accused hotly, hurt by the very idea that Asher wouldn't want me to know he'd been injured.

"And miss seeing your face when you ran over here to scold me? I might be scraped up, but I'm not dumb." He gave me a lazy grin.

"What happened?" I wondered.

His face was scuffed along his chin, his arm had a few bandages on it, and his T-shirt was scattered with drops of blood, but other than that, he seemed intact.

"Some fucker sideswiped me. It's never happened in years of riding, so I figure I was due. I'm fine, if you're worried."

I scoffed, my face heating up. "Who said I was worried?"

"You look worried," Asher stated calmly and smirked. "It's cute."

"It is not cute, and I'm just worried about how you'll fulfill your end of our deal if you get hurt. That's all," I was rambling, so relieved to see him intact that I couldn't think straight.

Asher nodded. "Well rest assured, I'm fine. All in all, I think I got off lightly."

"You're just saying that because you can't see yourself." I grimaced at the sight of the dark-red road rash along his arm and the bruising on his jaw. "It's not pretty."

"I see you come from the tough love school of nursing, and I'd expect nothing less."

I opened my mouth to retort just as my phone rang. I pulled it out, and my relieved mood instantly vanished. An unknown number flashed across the display.

"I've got to take this," I muttered, pushing past the curtain and striding out of the ER, toward the front entrance. I had a suspicion who it was, and I didn't want anyone overhearing a conversation with Trent. Just the thought was gross, somehow, like talking to him on the phone meant that I was okay with him and guys like him, which I certainly wasn't.

Outside was quiet. There were a few people smoking, and some dude in the shadows sitting astride a vintage Harley.

I took a deep breath, tried to relax my tight throat, and answered the phone.

"What is it? I thought I was clear. You have no reason to call me," I snapped.

Trent chuckled, a sound that never failed to make my skin crawl. "Now, is that any way to talk to someone who's just worried about your boyfriend? I wanted to check on Asher."

I froze. "How do you know he had an accident? It just happened."

Trent's tone was patronizing. "How do you think I know?"

"You — you had something to do with this?" As soon as I said it, I knew it was true.

Trent didn't answer, but I sensed his gloating attitude over the phone. Worry and nerves collided in my chest. Was this the beginning of Trent making sure he got what he wanted? Did he have someone hurt Asher? Sure, coming off his bike was a minor incident, but it was an effective demonstration of power. Next time could be much, much worse."

"What a pathetic excuse for a man you are. You think because you're part of a secret little society of fucking power-hungry losers that you can mess with people's lives? Stay away from Asher — or you'll have me to answer to, Trent Fitzgerald." I sounded fierce. I sounded confident. I was neither, but I was grateful Trent didn't know that.

"Now, that's no way for a lady to talk. I see there's a lot to modify about your behavior…once you're mine."

"I swear on my life: I will make you suffer if you continue this. Stop now, before it gets out of hand," I hissed out.

"Be careful who you threaten, Winter. I've already put your boyfriend in the hospital and fucked up your roommate. Who's next? Your mom, or maybe your dad? Or how about your boyfriend's sister? Or the hardworking cleaning lady with the heart of gold?"

My pulse thrummed in my veins; I was desperate and scared. Was he blackmailing me? Could he really make good on these threats? If he could, then I'd have no choice but to do whatever he told me to. I couldn't let Asher or our families be hurt because of me. No way.

I was quiet. I had nothing to say back to Trent right now. My comebacks were all used up. I was terrified.

He sounded satisfied that he'd silenced me. "Now, I'll be in touch soon. A dinner with my dad will show him we're on the right track."

"We're not on any track. I don't care what your dad says. I'll expose The Cove, or whatever you call it, and send you both to jail."

"We'll see," Trent said simply and hung up.

I gripped my phone, fighting the urge to throw it against the wall for a moment. Instead, I took a couple of calming breaths and tried to clear the red from my vision.

"Got a light, sweetheart?" someone with a deep voice and an indiscernible accent asked me.

I spun around, gripping my phone tightly.

"Sorry, what?" I asked numbly.

It was the biker I'd noticed on the Harley. Not Cole Bailey or anyone I recognized from the bar where Asher worked. This guy was older, tattooed to hell and back. He had long dirty-blond hair, held back with a tie, and deep-green eyes. He grinned down at me with the confidence of a man used to getting whatever he wanted from women.

"A light?" Irish. The green-eyed devil was Irish.

"No, sorry," I muttered and turned away.

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," the biker drawled, leaning against the nearby wall and tucking his unlit cigarette behind his ear.

"You mean you listened in on a private conversation?" I snapped at him, not in the mood to engage with anyone at all.

He smirked. "Exactly. I have to say, I caught a name you mentioned, and I'll be damned if it's not the very thing I've been searching for lately. Must be fate." The guy smiled, but there was a lethal grace to his casual demeanor. A wolf in sheep's clothing. Everything about him screamed that he was a very dangerous man, despite his lopsided smile and easy charm.

"What name? Trent Fitzgerald? If it's that name, I'll give you his address, his schedule, his number, everything…If you want to hurt him, even better," I bit out.

The Irish guy laughed and raised an eyebrow at me. "I like fire in a woman. Sadly, that wasn't the name I'm interested in. The Cove. I'd love to hear what you know about it."

"The Cove? I can tell you everything I know about it, on one condition." I paused for a moment. "Do you have good intentions?"

He laughed. "Sweetheart, the answer to that is rarely yes."

Good. I crossed my arms over my chest and eyed him up and down. "In that case, maybe we could help each other. I'm Winter, by the way. Winter DeLaurie." I stuck my hand out like I was meeting a new business partner.

Irish Guy smirked at me and took my hand. His was huge, and calloused, and absolutely covered in what looked like prison tattoos.

"Nice to meet you, Winter. I'm Bran. Bran O'Connor."