Page 20

His fingers close around mine.

"Easy, darlin'. You're good."

A man approaches from the common room.

"Vex."

"Prez."

His attention moves to me.

"Kierra Wilkinson?"

I nod.

"I'm Grim. President of the Damned Sinners."

"Hello."

He offers his hand.

I shake it.

"I'm sorry about what happened today," he says. "We should've gotten to you sooner."

I blink.

"You're apologizing?"

"You're under our protection. That makes you our responsibility."

There's no hesitation in his voice.

I don't quite know what to say.

Another man approaches.

"Razor," he introduces himself. "Let's get that knee checked."

He leads us down a corridor, with Vex close enough behind me that I can feel his presence without looking.

Razor opens a door and gestures for me to enter.

The medical room has an examination bed, cabinets filled with supplies, and enough equipment to make me wonder how often these men end up needing it.

Probably more often than I'd like to know.

I climb onto the bed while Razor washes his hands.

Vex takes up position beside me.

Naturally.

Razor examines my knee while my rescuer watches every move.

"Bruising," Razor says. "Doesn't look broken, but I want you keeping the weight off it as much as possible."

"She hit it getting shoved into the car," Vex supplies. "Bastard had a gun against her ribs."