Page 32 of Coach (Shady Valley Henchmen #8)

Este

I woke up to something tickling my nose.

Then, as if sensing I was back in the world, I felt a long, fat tongue lick up my cheek.

“Trix!” I yelped, my eyes flying open to find her on the bed right next to me. “Hey, baby, hey!”

I threw my arms around her, burying my face in her soft coat. It wasn’t something she generally liked, but she seemed to understand how badly I needed it and let me squeeze her for a minute.

“I was so worried about you.”

“When Colter finally gave me an update, he was already almost out the door,” Saul said, making me look up to find him standing there with a tray of food. “I figured I would just let her wake you up when she got here.”

“Best surprise ever,” I told him, swiping some tears off my cheeks. “She’s okay?”

“Clean bill of health. Seems like she had a couple of Benadryl in her system. She was just having a very deep, allergy-free sleep.”

“Thank God. You scared the heck out of me. But I knew you would find her. I heard you,” I added.

“You heard me?”

“In my house. I tried to scream, but I guess the basement was soundproofed pretty well.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know you were there sooner.”

“You’re not psychic. And you did find me pretty quickly. How did you know?”

“Rook. Rook found the old restraining order. We pieced it together pretty quickly from there. Detroit said he saw a much fitter version of the guy at the gym in town. I figured that if you’d seen him, you would have been gone.

So he had to be laying low. But he’d also want to keep an eye on you. Then I remembered the new neighbor…”

“You put it together a lot faster than I did.”

“You had no reason to suspect the neighbor.”

“His behavior was weird. But, no, you’re right. I’m not going to take on the blame. Your hands,” I said, glancing down at his busted knuckles.

“I had some… feelings about someone putting their hands on my woman.”

I knew I was supposed to be focusing on the whole beating someone up thing, but all I could hear was my woman .

“Your woman?” I asked.

“Yeah, my woman,” he said, shooting me a sexy smirk. “You have a problem with that?”

“Only that I’m just hearing about it now.”

“I was gonna get around to that,” he said, putting down the tray and tossing a treat on the new dog bed for Trix before coming over to the bed.

“Yeah, when?”

“When we talked through you getting kidnapped by the Russians and bribed not to tell me about it.”

“You heard about that, huh?” I asked, wincing. “I guess I have to give the money back.”

“You didn’t actually tell me. Though, I do have to replace their door.”

“Why?”

“Broke it down when I thought they’d taken you again. Might’ve held them at gunpoint for a few minutes.”

“You didn’t.”

“They handled it pretty well, considering.”

“I get the feeling that guns and violence are a pretty common part of their life.” I paused, reaching over to touch his hand. “Seems like maybe it’s a part of yours too.”

“I won’t deny that,” he admitted. “But it’s not an everyday thing. And it’s only to protect the club and our loved ones.”

“I’m not judging. I’m glad for that willingness to get your hands dirty. I’d probably still be in that basement right now.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’d gotten your ankles free. You’d have gotten your wrists too. Then probably snuck up and knocked the fucker out.”

“That was the plan. Or find the access point to the exterior doors.”

“Exactly. You would have gotten out sooner or later. I’m just glad we managed it sooner.”

“Me too.”

There was a soft knock at the door.

“Yeah?” Saul called.

The door inched open, and in walked Colter. With a giant basket in his arms.

“I’m just going to drop this right here,” he said, placing the basket on the record cabinet.

“You took Trix to the vet, right?” I asked.

“That was me.”

“Thank you. Really.”

“It was nothing. Don’t tell your mom about the hamburgers we got on the way home, okay, girl?” he asked my dog, shot a wink at me, then was gone again.

“That’s Colter’s thing. Gift baskets. But I want you to eat before we go through it. If you’re not too queasy.”

“That passed. I’m starving.”

“Good. Detroit and Saint both worked on breakfast, so it should be banging,” he told me as he went to grab the tray. “How is your head? Lungs?”

“I’m sore,” I admitted, immediately reaching for a piece of perfectly crispy bacon. “But my headache seems to be mostly better. I’m going to be fine,” I assured him.

“And you’re not gonna need to worry about your old coach again.”

“Was he arrested?”

“No, honey, he wasn’t arrested.”

Oh.

Oh .

That was, what, three murders I was connected to in two days? That was insane. But I had to admit that their deaths were of their own making.

Don’t steal from Russian mobsters.

Don’t kidnap and imprison women who are dating outlaw bikers.

Maybe I would feel more guilt when all the pain and shock subsided. Even if I didn’t, though, I was going to give myself grace.

I’d been living the past ten-plus years of my life in fight-or-flight. I wasn’t going to beat myself up about not being sad that my stalker was dead.

“What happens now?” I asked as we were halfway through our giant breakfast.

“Whatever you want.”

“What do you want?” I asked as he moved the tray away.

“Easy,” he said, reaching to pull me close. “You.”