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other place to go, no comfort to seek, even while her heart shattered into a million pieces.
    Silent sobs wracked her body. What the hell was wrong with her? She'd be stupid to try and take what he offered. Even if he actually meant it, the Saxons wouldn't let him help her. They would just track him down and kill him and make things even worse for her. Besides, she knew better than to trust anything with a dick. Trip might have promised safety and freedom, but once away from the Saxons' compound, he would be like any other man. Betrayal ran through their veins like blood.
    Handsome enough to have any woman he wanted, he would quickly tire of her and hand her over to his brothers. The only difference would be hope. She would have tasted hope by the time he gave her to the others, so returning to a life of being passed from one man to another and used however they wished would crush her even further. Buffalo was better than that.
    When the sobs finally eased, she fell into an exhausted sleep, not minding the cold floor under her body. The pain in her soul outweighed the ache of lying on concrete.

Chapter Five
    Trip stared after the girl's retreating back until Stella slapped his shoulder. "Let it go, man. We ain't strapped for that kind of trouble this trip anyway."
    "Yeah, I know." That didn't stop him from wishing he could help her. Still, he had to get his head back in the game while he still could. He glanced around the room. He didn't want to leave anything behind. A quick pat of his pockets assured him… Wait. His pocket knife. "You see my Buck knife around anywhere, man? I used it to shim the door."
    They both searched quickly and came up empty. "Must have got kicked under something or out in the hall. We got no time, brother." Stella knew what that knife meant to him, and wouldn't ask him to just leave it in other circumstances. It was the only thing he had left from an old biker that had mentored him back when he'd been lost.
    "Yeah, okay. I'll miss it, though." He followed Stella out to the big room. Should have known better than use a good knife that way. The twenty dollar spare he kept in his saddlebag would have been far easier to leave behind. Lesson learned the hard way.
    Things had settled down considerably out in the main room of the clubhouse where everything had gone to hell earlier. Someone had taken the dead girl's body away, and Trip spared a second to hope she would get a decent burial at least. From what he gathered from Tanya, and what he witnessed himself, her life with the Saxons MC had been anything but decent. Futile anger roiled through him once again.
    Over near the door, Buffalo lay on a table that looked ready to collapse under his weight. The biker's jeans had been cut away to reveal the grisly wound the dead girl inflicted on him before her throat was cut. Trip preferred not to see any of it, but the table sat square in front of the door, making it unavoidable.
    A skinny man wearing a Saxons cut bent over the Prez, calmly stitching the deep slash in the man's thigh. An empty rig lay on the table next to Buffalo's arm, and a belt loosely circled the massive bicep. The big man's face was slack, the drugs doing their job and knocking his ass out. They better have plenty more where that came from, because Trip figured when Buffalo woke, he'd need it.
    Freak watched the procedure with a grim smile. He glanced up when he noticed them. "You believe that shit?" He nodded toward Buffalo's groin.
    Trip paused and shuddered. "No. No, I do not." The man's big dick lay to one side, already stitched up where it had been sliced nearly in half. "Think he'll be okay?"
    The Saxon VP shrugged. "Who knows? Bushmaster here is as good as any sawbones. If Buffalo's cock can be saved, he'll do it." He gave a little laugh. "I still can't believe that little bitch grabbed Rainbow's knife right off his belt and went after Buffalo with it."
    "It's fucked up." Trip could believe it. After the way Buffalo raped her, he