Standing on the porch, Haizley’s hands went to her lips, trying to hide her split lip and bruised face. Her eyes darted between us, her face a mask of concern. “I was at a ranch and the horse hit me in the face,” she stammered, her voice shaking. “It’s nothing, really. I should have been more careful.”
“Bullshit,” Danny said, his voice sharp with anger. “I know a punch when I see one.”
Guiding her gently inside, Danny’s protective nature took over.
I knew he sensed her unease and his protective instincts kicked in.
As Haizley sat at the table, wincing when the ice bag made contact with her swollen lip, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness myself. This woman had become a friend, a confidant, and now she was here, hurt and in need of our help.
“What the hell happened, Haizley?” I asked, my voice gentle but insistent. “And don’t you dare tell us it was a horse.”
“It’s nothing, really. I swear.”
Danny growled, turning to Nav, who stood off to the side. “What the fuck happened to her, Zach? Did Gunner do this shit?”
“NO!” Haizley yelled. “He would never hit me!”
“Well, someone fucking hit you. Who was it?”
“You might as well tell him, Doc.” Nav sighed, then added, “Because he’s going to find out eventually.”
“Fine,” Haizley groaned, the word catching in her throat like a shard of glass. Nav’s shadow fell across her as he moved to stand behind her, his presence a solid, silent weight in the already heavy air. “Someone broke into my house two nights ago.”
Danny’s growl vibrated through the floorboards. My stomach clenched. This wasn’t just a burglary. Something far darker hung in the air, thick and suffocating.
“His name was Greg,” she admitted, her voice low and controlled.
“Was?” Danny’s whisper was barely audible, but the unspoken question hung between them, heavy with implication.
“I killed him,” she whispered.
Her words hung in the air, stark and brutal. Danny looked at Nav, his expression unreadable, a storm gathering behind his eyes. I felt a cold dread snake its way through me, knowing damn well this was going to be my life. There was no way Danny could let this go. Not when Haizley had come to mean something to the both of us.
Yet, this wasn’t the usual club business.
This was something... different.
Nav sighed, the sound weary and burdened. “He’s the fucker the club’s been looking for. Son of a bitch was drugging and raping women. We got wind of something when Sam, Jackass’ woman, was drugged at the bar.”
The casual brutality of his words struck me hard.
This wasn’t just a single act. It was a pattern, a trail of broken lives.
“Have there been others?” I asked. My question formed a lump in my throat as I looked up at the two men, the weight of their unspoken knowledge pressing down on me.
Nav sighed again, a deeper, more desolate sound this time. “Yeah.”
The single word was confirmation of my worst fears.
“What else aren’t you telling me?” Danny’s words burst out, sharp and demanding.
“We’ve had two bodies pop up in the last four months,” Nav confessed, the air growing colder around me. “We’re not sure they are related, but I’m looking into it. Declan, the town sheriff and King’s brother, is still investigating.”
“I need a computer,” Danny demanded, his voice hard. His practical response to any horrific situation. I knew he felt the familiar pull toward a technological solution, the need to dive into data and unravel the truth.
“No,” Haizley said, rising to her feet, her sudden strength surprising me. Standing before Danny, she radiated fierce determination, the kind born from grief and outrage. “I appreciate your concern and your willingness to help, but you need to let the authorities handle this. You are only just recovering from a major trauma, and I don’t want anything to set it back. Now, let’s forget about me and go into the living room and talk.” Her voice held an edge of steely resolve, but underneath, I sensed a tremor of something else... fear?
Or was it something stranger, something akin to... acceptance?
