After helping Mac, I’d gotten a text from Judge that Mrs. Danes had left. I’d needed to retrieve the panel that doubled as a camera and unlock the safe that held her identification.

While I’d been busy with that, Glitch had been getting Mrs. Danes settled in a hotel under a pseudonym.

As much as we fuckin’ hated changing shit on the fly, we’d gone with it since Danes wasn’t violent.

So we thought.

But the way Katarzyna shook in Glitch’s hold told me we were wrong about that.

“What the hell happened?” Between the lack of sleep, the changed plans, and the confusion, my brain was in a fog.

Or on a bad shrooms trip without the shrooms.

“Mrs. Danes told me she was about to leave for the salon when she saw Danes getting rough with Katarzyna,” Glitch said.

“Rough how?” Judge bit out.

“Yeah, how?” Ophelia echoed, looking just as furious. Maybe more.

Judge called her princess, and it was fitting. She was a petite woman who liked makeup and skirts and all that shit.

But I’d once watched her kick a man in the balls until he puked, so her fury wasn’t comical.

It was legit.

“Mr. Danes said… He’s a dupek.” Tears filled Katarzyna’s eyes as she flicked her wrist, finding the word. “Asshole.”

“Already knew that,” Judge said. “What happened today?”

When Katarzyna just stared up at Glitch, he filled us in on what Mrs. Danes had seen without breaking their eye contact. “He grabbed her tit hard enough to make her scream then he backhanded her. Made her nose bleed. Bleed.”

The broken glass.

The smudge of blood.

That motherfucker.

“We’ll handle it,” Judge said ominously.

Katarzyna finally tore her attention from Glitch. “It’s not a big—”

“We’ll handle it,” Glitch echoed.

I looked at Swedes’s old lady. “I don’t know if you have a spot—”

“I’ll make one,” Ria said with zero hesitation.

Ria ran an upscale housekeeping business that employed some of the biker bunnies who hung around Mayhem. They came through the clubhouse once a week—more often if there was a party. I’d never had them clean my place, but they’d gotten beer, bong water, and blood out of my clothes, so I knew they were good.

And Katarzyna needed good.

Her expression lit before she locked it down and looked at me with wide, pleading eyes.

“She’s undocumented,” I told them.

Ria unknowingly echoed my words from earlier. “We’ll figure it out.”

One thing dealt with.

Judge tilted Ophelia’s face up and phrased his order like a request so his wife didn’t twist his nipples off. “Why don’t you and Ria take her to get cleaned up and changed into some of the spare shit from the guest closet? Get her fed, too.”