Wolf inclined his chin and stepped inside, following me to the kitchen where I poured us each some whiskey. We each threw back the first round, needing the burn to settle inside, needing it to loosen up the words we weren't ready to share yet.
“You gonna talk about it?” I asked, pouring us each a second round.
“Are you?” he countered and I shook my head, looking down at my boots. If only it were that easy. Besides, what could I say?
Wolf made a grunting noise, staring off out the darkened window as I heard footsteps on the stairs. Shit. How had I not heard the water shut off? Before I could even call out a warning, Lo stepped into the doorway in yet another of my tees, this one a little tighter, a little shorter, white. You didn't even have to look hard to see the little pointed peaks of her nipples through the thin material.
Lo stopped short, her red-rimmed eyes going wide. Focusing on those eyes, on the fact that she had been upstairs crying in the shower, I missed the look as it spread across Wolf's face. I didn't miss, however, the low, lethal, chilling growling noise that came from somewhere deep in his chest. It drew my attention away from Lo, finally finding his face and seeing the kind of blind rage there that scared men much greater than me to their bones. He was looking at Lo's face, her bruises and cuts, her tear-stained cheeks, her swollen eyelids.
The sound came back louder, making Lo take a step back, watching Wolf like she might need to spring into action at any time. But Wolf wasn't looking at her. No, he was looking at me and there was nothing but accusation and a bitter kind of hatred there. Shocked, I felt myself straightening as his lips thinned out.
“Wolf what's...”
“A woman?” his deep voice boomed loudly, making Lo jump slightly, her eyes moving around to, I imagined, locate a weapon.
“A woman?” I repeated, at a complete loss.
“Her. Fucking. Face.” Each word was its own sentence. Each word got louder and louder until the dog next door started barking manically.
Jesus Christ.
He thought I did it. He thought I busted up her face.
“Seriously?” I felt myself asking, feeling anger- foreign, very unlike me, bubbling up under my skin, making me feel like I wanted to claw it off. “You don't fucking know me better than...”
I didn't get the rest out because suddenly he wasn't across the room from me anymore. He was right in front of me and his fist was cocked backward. I'd been hit plenty in my life before. It came with the job. It came with being a member of a biker gang. It came with fucking whatever skirt I wanted despite her relationship status. I could take a punch. That being said, Wolf in full rage-mode was like being hit by the Hulk.
“Wolf, no!” I heard Lo screech, making Wolf start, his arm still cocked, as he twisted his head to look at her.
“Shouldn't fucking hit you,” he ground out, the words barely coming out from how hard he was clenching his jaw.
“Wolf, Cash didn't hit me,” Lo said calmly, reassuringly. It was the same tone someone used when talking to a scared child or a skittish dog. Low, almost melodic. Wolf's hand fell, but his body was still tight, practically pulsing with rage. “Cash would never hit a woman,” she said with so much conviction that my eyes stopped watching Wolf for a sign that he might pounce and moved to look at Lo. As if sensing my inspection, though her gaze was fully focused on the bearded, light-eyed, rage monster in my kitchen, she went on, “He's an asshole and all, but he wouldn't do that.”
Wolf huffed out his breath, slowly relaxing. It was a sight to see- how he went from inhumanely angry to the cool, collected, calm man he always was so effortlessly.
“Sure?” he asked her, his haunting honey-colored eyes unblinking on hers.
“Yes, I'm sure. This,” she said, waving a hand at her face, “had nothing to do with him. Do I seem like the kind of woman who would stay in the house with a man who beat her?” she asked, her tone oddly sharp.
“Lotta' women do,” he shrugged, putting down his full glass of whiskey and turning back to look at me. “Gotta go.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Stay. You wanted to talk about something. Let's talk about it. If it is about J...”
“No,” he cut in, the word almost angry again and I quickly shut up. I guessed Janie was a touchy subject, but who was I to judge? Lo was a touchy subject for me too.
“Then just stay. Have a drink. Lo made food...”
“Club,” he said instead, and it was a dismissal. “Lo,” he said, nodding his head at her as she moved out of his way.
With that, I heard his boots across my floor and the front door slamming before his truck roared to life out front.
“He's, ah,” Lo started, with a head shake, “a really intense guy, huh?”
“That would be putting it mildly,” I agreed with a smile, throwing back my round.
“What was with that reaction?”
“He doesn't like men who put their hands on women.”
“History there?” Lo asked wisely.
“Yeah,” I nodded, not giving her any more than that. It wasn't a secret among The Henchmen. Wolf's sordid past was common knowledge. That being said, it was private. It was for the brothers to know and the brothers only.
“You gonna share that or what?” she said, nodding at me as I poured more whiskey into my glass.
I reached up into the cabinet for another glass and poured her a round. “So are all those walls back into place?” I asked as I handed her the glass.
Her hand retreated for the barest of seconds before she grabbed it out of my hand and threw it back. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“No? Then why have you been crying?”