DAHLIA ALDRIDGE
This week—sorry, make that week and a half—had been the longest of my life. Easily. I knew after all this was sorted I would be dealing with the mental, physical, and emotional effects, including exhaustion, for a long time to come.
It would be worth it, though, if it meant, my men, my family, and myself were safe.
I would have thought that I would be a bit more distressed considering everything that had just happened, but instead I felt numb. Part of the reason for that was me keeping it together for King, whose lap I was sitting on, my fingers sifting through his hair. We were in his office, and Yates was clinical and in control, talking to the others as I played ‘keep King from losing his mind’ while he held me, shaking slightly, and soaked in blood. He was absolutely not okay right now, and while he was managing to sit and hold me, I had a feeling that there was only one thing that would solve this, and it was a rather bloody situation.
I had attempted to convince King to shower, but instead he had just sat on the edge of my bed as I’d gotten dressed, the others having moved the body from where it’d been soaking my wood floors with blood. An image that I wouldn’t soon forget. I had no idea where they had taken the body to, especially since the FBI field agents were now questioning Owen regarding his involvement in this. I don’t think anyone had considered that particular betrayal, and it hurt. But I was far more focused on hoping that he wouldn’t talk about Max, because it would be difficult to explain where exactly he had gone off to. Or maybe they wouldn’t…maybe they would ignore it.
Honestly, I had a feeling if enough money became involved, almost anything could be put aside. Forgotten. I nearly shook my head at that.
I curled my legs up, not caring that my clothes were getting blood on them. I was wearing a pair of black sweats, my leg still wrapped from the explosion earlier, and a long-sleeve shirt that kept me warm. I knew that when the adrenaline crashed I would get cold, and Yates had nearly insisted that I wear a coat. Although, even now, this haze and numbness was keeping me very comfortable. It took a minute to sort through my brain before I finally got it working, wanting to help my boys out.
“Did you listen to the video yet?” My question was directed at Yates.
“Not yet,” he answered. “I don’t understand how the hell he got up there. We were standing right outside.”
I relayed the story to them, from the moment I woke up to everything that Max had said, but I cut the story off at the end, not needing to relive those terrifying moments. Instead I kept it simple. “Dixon Glenn is in the area, being protected by the Denim Moths, and Max was sent to kill me in order for Abby to be released from wherever she’s being held. I have no idea why he wanted him to kill me, but maybe it was because the original hit didn’t work? Either way, I think that Owen has been allowing Glenn’s people to bypass the normal security protocols. So when you guys stepped outside, he snuck him in. Max mentioned that they have Owen’s daughter tied up in his basement. Essentially, if we can find the Denim Moths, we can find Dixon Glenn.”
“You get all that?” Yates asked Dermot, who nodded while typing something out and picking up the phone. I raised a brow.
“He’s telling Callum,” Sterling explained. “He is covering up the Max situation and keeping the FBI field agents focused on the security and getting Owen’s daughter.”
Oh, good.
“Do we know where these bastards are located?” Lincoln demanded softly.
Stratton let out a grunt. “Yeah, I know exactly where they are located.”
I tightened my hold on King as he looked up at me. “You good? Or should we wait to do this another night?”
He shook his head, his eyes dark as I realized he very much wanted to get this done tonight… I did worry why he wasn’t offering a verbal response though. A quiet King was never a good thing.
“Bunny, you are going to—”
“Go wherever you go,” I interrupted before Yates could finish that thought with something ridiculous. “I am staying with all of you. If we are bringing enough people to overwhelm the Denim Moths three times over, then I will be there. Put me in bubble wrap or anything else you want, but I will one hundred percent be there. I won’t be able to move on unless I see all of this end myself. I will always be looking over my shoulder.”
After another moment of staring at me, Yates nodded sharply, clearly knowing he wouldn’t win this argument. Also, the fact that he agreed so quickly made me know he was set on finishing this tonight and bringing a conclusion to this absolute miserable symphony of constant problems and threats.
“I don’t know how we didn’t consider the Denim Moths,” Sterling said.
“I was wondering about their sudden increase in drug distribution,” Yates admitted. “I just assumed it was part of the larger problem, not that they were at the center of it.”
“King.” Dermot’s tone was hard. “I need you ready to go. We need to grab shit from the back room, so snap out of it until we get there.”
Kingston let out a dark growl as his eyes moved to his cousin. Dermot didn’t move his gaze, but I did notice he looked almost slightly unsure. To be fair, King was nearly feral at this point…which was weirdly hot, but I think I had jumped on the crazy train a while ago. I was one hundred and ten percent past the point of caring.
“Why don’t you help Dermot,” I suggested. He looked down at me, his fingers wrapping around my throat as he stared at my pulse for a minute before nodding. I stood with him, and he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead before following Dermot towards the secret door. All the guys filed through it, leaving only me and Yates.
He motioned for me, and I didn’t hesitate to go to him, sitting on top of the desk as he stood and trapped me there, looking over my expression. “Are you sure you want to go? I don’t doubt your safety there, especially with our numbers, but what you went through tonight—”
“Is one thing in a line of many,” I admitted.
Yates pressed his forehead to mine and spoke quietly, “I didn’t watch the video because I don’t think I can manage it while keeping a cool head.”
I tried to figure out what I could say to make him feel better and spoke honestly, “It made me feel more safe knowing that you were possibly watching me. I like knowing that you’re always there.”
“Even with it being a gross invasion of your privacy?”