“It’s bruising already,” commented Trick. “She’s gonna be pissed, walking round with that egg on her head.”
“Is she alright?” asked Greta. She shrugged when all eyes widened and focused on her. “Not that I care. I’m just wondering.”
“Hi there gorgeous, you’re awake,” crooned Marcus. Instantly everyone crowded around the sofa.
Too distracted by the realization that Taryn had come round, Trey didn’t even shoot his enforcer a scowl for using an endearment with his mate. “Hey, baby, you okay? You scared twenty years off my life.”
Damn that light was bright. Taryn groaned as sharp, icy pains began shooting rhythmically through her head. Oh God, she wasn’t going to throw up, was she? She sure felt like it. Confused and dazed, she peered around her to see the entire pack hovering.
Grace pushed her way through the enforcers. “How’re you feeling?”
“Like my head has been stomped on. Repeatedly. By a giant.” Tentatively she brought her hand to her forehead and moaned at the feel of the bump. Realizing she was on the floor, she tried pulling herself up, but her body was like jello and her elbows gave out. She slipped onto her back again, but that was okay because she didn’t feel like doing anything.
Carefully, Trey scooped her up and held her against his chest. Begrudgingly he allowed the stubborn woman to take over holding the ice pack to her head. “You really f**king scared me.”
“Do you feel dizzy, honey? Disorientated?” asked Grace, biting her lower lip.
Was she kidding? “I blacked out, of course I do.”
“What about headaches. Do you have one? These are all signs of concussion.”
“A headache?” Trey pointed to the bump on her head. “What do you think?”
Grace rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. Keep that ice pack on that bump.”
“Can’t you heal it?” asked Trick.
Taryn shook her head. “Healers can’t heal themselves.”
“That’s okay,” said Grace. “I know a remedy that’ll clear that right up. Ice, egg whites, and chocolate.”
“Huh?”
“I told you, chocolate is the answer, no matter the question.”
Dominic frowned. “I thought that was sex.”
Dante bumped Grace aside, startling a hmph sound from her. She kicked him in the shin and then left the room – presumably heading to the kitchen to mix up her weird concoction. Dante didn’t even flinch at the kick. “So what happened? Did you fall?”
She frowned. Now that the haze had begun to clear, a very important detail struck her. “Someone…”
“Someone what?” pressed Trey, breezing his thumb along her jaw.
“It felt like someone grabbed my ankle.”
“There was no one there when I got there.”
“Someone grabbed my ankle,” she said with more conviction. “They grabbed it, and they pulled it to make me fall. Then I was being dragged down the steps.” She lifted her hands and stared at the burning abrasions on her palms. If the same burning and tingling coming from her elbows and knees were anything to go by, she had similar abrasions there.
“That’s probably just from when you placed your hands out to break your fall.”
Dante took a closer look and shook his head. “No, those are scrapes…You can see where the skin was peeling like her hands were dragging along the floor.”
“Okay, well maybe she slipped down a few steps.”
“I didn’t slip.”
Not liking what this could mean, Trey shook his head. He didn’t want to believe it. “Baby…No one here would hurt you.”
Her brow arched. “Oh really?”
“Spray painting your car is one thing -”
“What about LJ?”
“Who?”
“The raven. Someone killed him and hung him upside down outside my window. That someone is not balanced.”
Dante winced. “Yeah, that was some sick shit.”
“Killing a bird and trying to seriously hurt you are two very different things.” He kissed the uninjured side of her forehead and scanned the room for Rhett, intending to tell him to go ask Grace to make Taryn a coffee. That was when he noticed Ryan. “Ryan, what’re doing over here? Have you left the gate unguarded?”
He frowned. “I’m not on guard duty this morning.”
“You’re not?”
“No.”
“Tao is the one on duty,” Trick informed him.
Trey’s frown now matched Ryan’s. “Brock said you’ve been trying to call me from the security shack.”
“I haven’t tried calling you at all.”
An uneasy feeling came over Trey. “Where’s Brock?” Looking confused and defensive, the guy stepped forward. “Why did you say Ryan wanted to talk to me?”
Brock double-blinked. “I didn’t. I haven’t spoken to you all morning.”
“But you sent a message to my cell phone.”
“No.”
“Where is it?” demanded Dante. “Where’s your cell?”
Brock dug his hand into his empty pockets and shrugged. “I must have left it in my room or in the kitchen.”
“Well that’s convenient.” Dante marched out of the room with Marcus and Trick on his heels.
Trey switched his attention back to Taryn. Suspicion was written all over her face. “They pledged their loyalty to you,” he reminded her, or maybe himself.
“Not all of them.”
She was right, and he knew Selma and Kirk disliked her enough to hurt her, he just didn’t believe for one minute that they had the guts to do it. Not only would they be very much aware that there was a strong chance Taryn would kick their ass, but they would then be branded traitors and exiled. Selma and Kirk didn’t have the nerve to take that kind of risk – which was partly why they acted so big and bad. As for Hope…he suspected that the only reason she hadn’t offered her loyalty to Taryn was because she was following Selma’s lead, just like always.
Dante’s re-entry brought him out of his thoughts. “You have the phone?”
His Beta nodded. “The message is right there.”
Brock spluttered. “What do you mean the message is there? I didn’t send him any message, dammit.”
“Well it’s right there in your Sent box,” said Dominic.
Brock snatched the phone, read the message and his face reddened. “Then someone else must have sent it. I didn’t. Why would I? Why would anyone even lie to you about Ryan wanting to talk to you?”