Page 66 of Dirty Monsters

“Oh bro, you’re starting this relationship off on bad ground,” Kane mocked us.

A growl erupted from deep within, rage simmering in the molecules below the skin. But I ignored him and concentrated on her. “You get to decide. Tell me what to do. Whatever you want is what happens now.”

Her lips quivered as she trained her eyes on me, trying to decide if I was being truthful. I wished I could open my thoughts to her so she could see I was being honest. I was there with her. We were on the same damn side this time.

I stared at her while also keeping an eye on Kane. He had some balls not to run. He had all the confidence in the world I wouldn’t do anything else to him. But for her, I would. All she had to do was say the word.

“Kill him,” she whispered.

Kane yelled, “Are we done here?”

He didn't hear her, but I did. So without even needing to think about it, I turned back to Kane and charged him, pounding his face over and over again until blood was running down my knuckles and pooling onto the ground, making his spit stain seem pathetic in comparison.

All I saw was red and a faint vision of Kane hurting her—then and now. I didn't have to know all the details of this time around to know he deserved the beating I was giving him. And fuck, it felt good. Years and years of pent-up anger—at him, at the Carringtons, and misplaced anger at Wren—were all at the forefront of my mind.

There was a chance I might regret it later, but right then, it was what I needed to do. For both Wren and for myself.

The only thing I heard was Kane’s moans and the faint sound of a roaring engine, the squealing of tires, and the fog of exhaust as it filtered through the air.It rumbled louder than the blood rushing to my brain, louder than my heart beating in my chest.

Turning to peer over my shoulder, Wren had disappeared. My bike was no longer parked where I left it.

My eyes scanned the parking lot even though I knew I wouldn't find her.

I jumped up, running after her while screaming her name. She didn’t slow down or stop. She drove out into traffic, nearly hitting a car in the side. She didn’t know how to drive my bike well enough to be fleeing so fast on it.

My heart started beating faster, and I ran back, past my brother’s battered body, and up the stairs to Lip’s apartment.

I stood at his front door pounding for a good minute before he appeared, a friendly smile on his face before the sight of the blood on me had him scanning me in fear.

“Need to borrow your bike,” I said harshly.

He turned to grab his keys without hesitation, and I headed back toward the parking lot. Wren was gonna get herself killed on my bike, and I’d give my life before I let her hurt herself. She might have been scared, she might have believed she couldn’t trust me, but she had survived so much. I wouldn’t let that be how she got herself killed.

As I threw my leg over Lip’s bike, an idea skittered through my head. What if she asked me to kill him, knowing I would, so she could get rid of both of us? Was that her plan?

She left me once when I fell off my fucking horse. She told me straight-up she hoped I was hurt and that I would die. It would be the perfect way to make sure Kane and I were both out of her life completely.

But then I remembered her face, her fear. Not only a fear of Kane but also a fear I had hurt her, used her, and set her up. She wanted to trust me, wanted me to be the good guy.

Regardless of how she felt about me, I knew I felt a lot of shit for her, and I would kill Kane, go to jail, and protect her from crashing my bike. I would do whatever I had to in order to save her. Not only her body but her mind.

I raced off, hoping I wouldn't find her crashed on the side of the road somewhere along the way. I didn't picture her heading back to Beachside, so I had to think about where she might be headed in a town she knew nothing about. Luckily, the strip of beach only had one main road and as long as I stayed on it, I knew I would find her.

I revved Lips’s bike faster, popping the front tire up in my hurried state. It was late, and very few cars were out driving this time of night in this sleepy beach town.

Another saving grace.

After I rode about two miles up the road, I slowed a little when I saw taillights in a parking lot along the beachfront. One taillight, to be exact. Like the one on my bike.

When I approached, I could see the bike laid over on its side, still cranked and smoking.

“Fuck!” I yelled, worried about Wren.

I pulled in and laid Lip’s bike over as well, rushing to where I hoped to find Wren safe. The light from the bright moon lit up the lot, and I started to yell for Wren, begging her to make a noise or anything to help me know where she went.

It was useless. She was scared as fuck. I wasn't there for her when she needed me. I didn't warn her about Kane. She was running from me as much as she was Kane.

I didn't let her fear stop me, though.