The Scars That Define Us (The Devil's Dust #2)(52)

“Fine,” I whisper, not having the energy to argue anymore.

“You don’t look so well,” he states, noticing my discomfort.

“Everything that’s been going on, I’m just past the point of stressed,” I respond.

“Let’s go to bed, babe,” he says, pushing me toward the bedroom.

I climb in bed and smother myself in the soft blanket as Shadow curls himself around me, nuzzling into my neck.

“I could never hate you, Dani,” he whispers against the skin of my neck.

“I know,” I agree, staring into the darkness.

***

A week goes by and the stress has not let up any. Seeing Babs slip in and out of consciousness everyday hurts. After spending the day at the beach with Shadow, we head back to the clubhouse. He heads off to church and I plant my ass at the bar. It’s not the same without Babs behind it; the club isn’t the same. I look around, wondering if Candy is still here and if she’s dumb enough to mess with me again, but I don’t see any sign of her. I lift from the stool and head into the kitchen in search of something to snack on; maybe it will help my queasy stomach. I hear glass jars clink into each other, catching my attention as I look toward the fridge. It slams shut and I am face-to-face with Locks. He looks at me and sniffs as he stares daggers at me. I feel a sudden rage rise, vengeance for Babs.

“Been by to see Babs?” I ask, knowing the answer.

“You would do well to keep your mouth shut, bitch,” he snarls.

My eyes widen in anger, shocked he would talk to me like that.

“Excuse me?” I question.

He stomps toward me, his boots thudding against the dirty floor.

“You heard me. Your daddy might think your shit don’t stink but I’m here to tell you it does. You should be six feet under, and everyone around here knows it.”

“Fuck you!” I scream, pushing him in his chest.

He looks down at where I pushed him and suddenly backhands me, making me stumble into the counter. My hands grip the stainless-steel sink and the dirty dishes in the sink catch my attention, a knife in particular. I reach in and grip the dirty butcher knife then turn around and glare at Locks. He has a smug look on his face, proud he just hit me, and by the looks of him flexing his hand, he’s ready to do it again. The feeling of rage, which surfaces when things get ugly, pushes forward, crawling over my rational thinking. I grip the knife and assess where I should stab him. No man will ever hit me. Just as I push off the sink ready to attack, the kitchen doors fling open and Shadow walks in. He takes in the scene with a raised brow. “What’s going on?” he demands.

I look at Locks, whose attention is on Shadow.

“You need to keep that bitch on a leash!” Locks yells as he points at me.

“You f*cking hit her?” Shadow asks pointedly.

Locks looks at me with a smirk. The cool-down from adrenaline raises the pain in my cheek where he hit me. I lift my hand to touch the tender spot and wince.

“Did he hit you?” Shadow questions me. If the heat rising from cheek indicates anything, I’m sure Shadow knows the answer.

Shadow strides forward with a crazed look in his eye. He grabs Locks by his leather cut with both hands and pulls him within a hair’s length from his face.

“You just signed your own death certificate, brother,” Shadow threatens.

Before Locks can react, Shadow head-butts him in the face, making Locks fall to his knees dazed and confused. Shadow paces back and forth in front of him, flexing his hands with anger. Locks tries to stand but Shadow throws an upper cut to his jaw and throws him back into the kitchen chairs.

“What the hell is going on in here?” my dad bellows, pushing through the doors to the kitchen with force. I set the knife back into the sink, hoping my father didn’t see it.

“He put his hands on Dani, and I’m going to kill him,” Shadow yells.

“He touch you, Dani?” my dad asks.

“I can take care of myself,” I reply, straightening my shirt.

“Get the f*ck out of here, Locks, before I f*cking kill you myself,” my dad orders, nodding toward the doors.

“Fine, but this club went to shit when that little bitch showed up. Remember that,” Locks spits, his voice cracking as he pushes past everyone.

“What the f*ck was that?” Shadow asks my dad. “He’s going to f*cking pay for hitting Dani.” Shadow walks up to me, taking me by the chin and surveying my face. My right cheek feels hot and irritated from the hit.

“I understand that. Trust me. I want him dead for that just as much as you,” my dad admits, rubbing the back of his head in frustration. “But until I figure out what the hell he’s up to, I need him alive.” He blows out a strangled breath and looks at my cheek. “You okay, doll?”

I nod in reply.

“Stay out of his way. You see him, you walk the other way,” he demands.

I nod again, but really I want to grab that dirty knife and shove it into Locks’ kidney. Show him what happens when he puts his hands on me.

“What do you think he has up his sleeve?” Shadow asks, letting my chin go.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s in with another club. We need to keep an eye on our merchandise.” My dad shakes his head, shrugging.

“Think he would sell it from under us?” Shadow asks, his tone high with shock.