But I don’t know anymore.
“I don’t know how deep he’s in, Thorn,” I confess. “I don’t feel like I know anything anymore.”
His strong hand guides me gently to the breakfast table, and we eat in silence while I catch little glimpses of him looking at me.
Trying to look serious, but telling me something with his eyes.
Oh dad, I hope things will work out. I don’t know how, but I know if anyone can help us its Thorn.
My knight in shining armor.
The perfect plan seems to go off without a hitch, and Thorn takes me home on his bike. Coming inside to watch over me while I grab a few things once we see dad’s not home.
I feel more embarrassed about him seeing where I live over how I felt him seeing me naked.
This place is a dump compared to his house, but he makes a point of not saying anything.
But I can see it in his eyes as I pack the few things I have worth taking, the few clothes I own.
The sound of a car outside, skidding on the gravel, followed by another and some rough voices sees me feeling my heart in my throat.
“He’s here, he’s home. What are we gonna do?” I hiss, watching Thorn finger back the blinds of my bedroom.
Not bothered by any of it.
I watch his thick jaw flex and hear his hands crack as he balls them into fists before relaxing.
“Nothing, Rose. We’re gonna do nothing. I’m just escorting my girl home,” he says looking over to me, his eyes clear, full of love, and definitely ready for whatever happens next.
Chapter Eight
Thorn
So much for a look-see around Rose’s house when her dad’s not home.
The sound of his car is new to me, but the one following behind I’m more than familiar with.
It’s the undercover kind crooked cop seem to use on every job outside the law, with a squeak when it stops, the sound of a known crooked cop’s car.
Rose is panicked, but I calm her with a glance, bringing my finger to my lips and motioning for her to stand behind the doorway.
Her dad thinks she’s gone, so why should she be home?
Least of all with a member of the Men of Valor MC.
Once she’s in position, and I whisper over to her to stay put. I can use my training to move around the house, finding anything of interest before secreting myself from the bad cop and good dad gone wrong, eavesdropping on their conversation.
Hoping Rose stays put.
Thumbing some papers I lift from his desk on the way through, I can tell at a glance Mr. Maxwell has already started his path down the road to ruin.
Fake tax returns, for businesses, individuals I know are all either on the take from the cops or the cops themselves.
Most of them are dealers, some running the drugs big time for these crooked cops of Valor.
It pains me to see the name Valor next to these names. These so-called businesses.
I’m sure too, whatever they are paying Mr. Maxwell isn’t enough and it won’t be long before they’ll want to collect rather than pay him for his troubles.
Or so I hear.
“But you said I’d be rewarded for my efforts… You gave me ten thousand dollars last week,” I hear a voice squeak from the kitchen now.
Another, more confident voice kicking in.
“We did. And now we want it back, plus double. You need to do some extracurricular work, Maxwell. Otherwise, we might just decide to collect from you personally next time.”
The sound of a groan, then a loud thump tells me all I need to hear.
Stay still, Rose. Stay right where you are.
She does.
And by the time the car pulls away, I join her in the hallway, hugging her to me as we both make our way into the kitchen.
“It’s okay, Rose. Just let me do the talking, alright?” I whisper to her. Feeling how shaken she is even under my touch, but grateful when she nods her head.
“Just get us out of this mess,” she implores, her teeth almost chattering from nerves by the time we get to the kitchen.
Blake Maxwell is a shell of a man, slumped at the kitchen table, his head in his hands.
“Daddy?” I hear Rose murmur next to me, my eyes rolling and making me almost groan.
So much for letting me do the talking.
It can’t be helped. She loves her dad.
His red eyes dart up, scanning me before they settle on his only daughter.
“I’m here to help,” I tell him, but it doesn’t do much by the looks.
“To help?” he moans. “Or to come take your cut? Doubling back on every deal I already made?”
It’s a common story with these thugs, but I’m not one of them.
“Blake,” I tell him moving to sit Rose and me down at the table.
“I’m not one of them, I’m a private security contractor, trying to clean up this town-”