Page 6 of Striker’s Foul (Shiver of Chaos #3)

We roll out less than ten minutes later. When we pull up to the roadhouse, lights and sirens are blaring inside the building, but no police are on scene yet. Commander, Browser, and Rio jump out of an SUV with a couple of men I don’t recognize. We all rush for the door.

I search for Jude and Amelia before looking for the attacker.

They’re sitting on the floor near the bar with a dog.

A man lies unconscious on the floor, taped up.

Jude doesn’t look hurt, but Amelia’s face is swelling, and bruises are forming on her neck.

As I pass the man, I kick him in the side, not caring about his safety. He touched my woman.

“Take care of him,” I order Rio, and he grunts. “Amelia,” I say softly, knowing she’s already on edge. Her eyes dart around the room, expecting another attack. She looks up at me, but the dog growls low in his throat.

“Blaze, no,” Jude commands, and I kneel beside her as police sirens finally sound in the distance.

“What happened?” I ask her.

Amelia points at the man. “He attacked me. I fought him off, but I got distracted when Jude came downstairs. He hit me. Then he tried to choke me. He told me—” Her voice breaks, and she starts to sob.

“It’s okay, angel. I got you and our son.”

“He told me I should’ve never come home. I fought him like I learned in training, then Jude laid him out.”

I look at my son and hold out my knuckles for him to knock. “Good job, kiddo.”

“I might have killed him,” Jude says as he looks at him. “I kicked him hard in the groin.”

“Serves him right for coming after our woman.”

Jude nods in agreement and lays his head on his mom’s shoulder.

Julian and Gambit kneel on each side of me.

“I’m Gambit,” he says, introducing himself.

“I’ve been friends with your dad for a very long time.

Want to come with me so the EMTs can check over your mom?

” he asks, trying to get Jude to leave her side.

Like me, he knows she won’t show any more pain or weakness than she already has in front of him.

“Um…” Jude looks at her, then at me.

“It’s okay, son. He’s not only a friend but also my brother,” I say.

“Okay.” Jude gets up. “I’ll be right over here, Mom.” He tries to reassure her.

I move closer. Gently, I touch her face where the bruising is, then palpate around her neck.

“I got it, Striker.”

I look up at the new voice and realize it’s Trevor. I trust him to help my woman, but he’s a man.

“Nope. Where’s Jas? No man is touching my woman except me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Amelia says, then pauses like she’s debating whether to say more and upset me. “Luke.”

I raise a brow at her, then turn back to Trevor.

“Jas isn’t working tonight. I swear, I get where you’re coming from, but she needs help. If it were my wife, I wouldn’t want another man touching her. But you know I can help her.”

“No.” I’m not backing down. “Get your wife or call Jas and tell her to come here. I’m not allowing it.”

“I need help, Luke.”

“I know, angel. I can help you. If you let me, I can treat you.”

“Striker, let him help her,” Commander says, trying to get me to give in.

I want to, God do I, but the thought of a man touching my woman makes me want to kill someone.

“Commander, you don’t understand, and until you have a woman, you won’t.”

“I can do it,” a feminine voice says from behind us. I turn to see who it is. “I’m the roadhouse manager. I was alerted when the panic alarm went off. I was a nurse in the ER for years before working here.”

“Wixel,” Trevor says, his voice tight.

“Trevor.” She acknowledges him. “I know you have a problem with me, but I’m not the same woman. I’m different, and I want to help. I can give you the information. I would never hurt Amelia. She helped me and didn’t care about my past.”

“Okay,” I say. I don’t care who she is or what she did. If she’s able and willing to help my woman, then I’m game.

“I need you to back off and give me some room. Can I please have a pair of medium gloves?” she orders each of us.

I watch as she gently feels around Amelia’s face and neck like I did, then checks her pupils and vitals.

She leans back and slips off her gloves.

“Without an X-ray to confirm, I don’t see any fractures.

She doesn’t have a concussion. Her pupils are equal and reactive.

Vitals are all good. She should get that X-ray just in case, but I’ll understand if she doesn’t want to. ”

“Thank you. I don’t feel like anything is broken, so I don’t need to go in,” Amelia says softly to her. I nod when she looks at me.

“Thank you, Leticia,” Trevor says, his voice losing the bitterness it held earlier.

“I’ll get the area cleaned up and help you upstairs,” Leticia says, still by Amelia’s side.

“You aren’t staying here. Not after this,” I demand.

Amelia slowly stands. “This is my home. I won’t be chased from it. And we have alarms. My son and I will be okay for the night.”

“Our son,” I growl.

“Our son,” she repeats with a small nod.

“I’m staying, then.”

“No,” she says without pause.

“Then I’ll sit outside the rest of the night.”

“Fine.” Her voice carries a bit of grit.

“Hello, Ms. Granville. I’m Sheriff Castor Evander. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

I follow Amelia’s gaze to the man who attacked her. He’s conscious now, and his mask has been removed. Cuffed and forced to his feet, he looks back at her.

“I’ll kill you next time,” he sneers.

I don’t care that Evander is standing there. I walk over and punch the guy square in the face.

“Touch my woman again, and they won’t find your body.”

“Did you hear that? He threatened me,” the guy cries to Evander.

“I didn’t hear anything except you threatening my victim.”

“He’s been in here several times during business hours. I thought he was with Luke’s club because he wore a leather vest.” She points at her attacker as they walk him outside.

“Not one of ours,” both Gambit and I say at the same time.

But it makes me wonder if the guy was trying to make it look like our club attacked Amelia.

Evander takes Amelia’s and Jude’s statements, then leaves. The ambulances and her manager leave as well. Now, only my brothers, Commander, and his men remain.

“Guys, we should have exterior guards, then set the motion detectors inside for the night. I’ll arrange for more guards when the bar is open.” Commander takes charge like he always does.

“I’ll have a couple of our men on it too,” Gambit says, and they discuss plans while I get my family upstairs to their apartment.

When I step over the threshold into their space, I catch her clean vanilla and lavender scent. The dog moves to a bed in the living room.

“I’m going to bed, Mom.” Jude kisses her cheek before heading to a room off the hallway.

“You don’t have to stay outside. You’re welcome to stay here. There’s a spare room back there,” Amelia says, pointing behind the kitchen.

I nod. “Go get in bed, angel. You look like you’re ready to drop. Take an anti-inflammatory, and I’ll bring you an ice pack.”

I step into the kitchen and open the freezer. Sure enough, my girl has ice packs ready. Having an athlete in the house means she’s always prepared. I grab one, wrap it in a dishcloth, and head toward the room she entered off the living room. I knock, and she answers.

When I step inside, I have to force myself to stay in control. She’s wearing silky shorts and a matching button-down top. It’s covered in steers, stars, cowboy hats, and boots. I shake my head and walk over to her.

“I was going to say don’t come in, but then I realized you’ve seen me in less.” She jokes.

I pull her into my body.

“Angel, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you in anything less than this. And your body has changed since you gave birth to our son.”

She starts to pull away and huffs.

“Not in a bad way,” I add quickly. “You’re sexier than I remember, even in my dreams.”

I slide my hand along her unbruised cheek. She leans into it, and I lower my head. I press a kiss to her forehead. Neither of us is ready for me to take her lips again. Because the second I taste her, I’ll want to bury myself in her completely.

I turn to walk out of the room.

“I’m scared,” she says softly.

I stop and turn back to her.

“Get in bed, angel,” I order, and she listens to me.

She presses the ice pack to her cheek and leans back against the pillow. I move to the other side of the bed, slip my boots off, and lie down on top of the blankets.

She turns out the light, and we lie there in the semi-dark. The parking lot lights cast a soft glow through the window.

“Why didn’t you go pro?” she asks, breaking the quiet.

“I had a choice to make, and soccer wasn’t on that list. I went with what felt like the lesser of two evils.”

“Why?” she asks, rolling toward me.

I want to tell her it all. But will she listen?

“Are you sure you’re ready to hear that? Why don’t you tell me why you didn’t tell me about Jude?”

She’s silent for so long, I begin to doubt she’s going to answer me.

“After Harold told me you didn’t want anything to do with me, that all you wanted was a fun month before leaving for training camp, I didn’t know what to do.

I cried for days. When I thought I was sick from lack of food and crying so much, my mom knew better.

She had me take a pregnancy test. You’d already been gone for a couple of weeks by then. I didn’t know how to find you.”

She pauses, and I want to tell her I never said that, but I need her to continue.

“Mama planned everything. She sent me to my grandparents in Texas. But before that, we told Harold.”

I notice she doesn’t call him Father.

“He disowned me. Called me a whore and told me to get an abortion. I refused. He said he should’ve never given you the money you asked him for. My mother put me on a plane the next day with a court document stating my name was legally Granville. Harold had signed off on it.”