Inside the main room of the church, fifteen brothers were already gathered, packing, and ready to go. Flick switched another set of lights on, gathering all eyes and attention.
“Emily’s gonna have to stay at the club,” I said before he could speak. “It’s too dangerous for her to be out there now. Somebody’s gotta stay with her.”
Flick opened his mouth, only for the doors to bust open.
“You can’t keep me here!” I spun around, finding my stepsister’s wide eyes glaring back at me from the front door. “I have Sam. I need to get back to him. I need to search for my mom. I—”
“Just until we can figure something out, Em.” I gritted my teeth.
Holding his hands over his junk, Archer came stumbling into church behind her.
“Woman kicked me in the fucking nuts.” Accent thick, he shook his head, face pale, sweaty blond hair falling over one of his eyes. I would’ve laughed, if I hadn’t felt like killing someone.
“What about Sam? What if he’s in danger?” Emily asked, ignoring everyone but me.
“I’ll send a group out to keep an eye on him,” Flick answered, rubbing a hand over his mouth.
I added in, “Tell him you need a vacation or something. You’ve got to stay here. It’s not safe for you to leave the compound right now.”
Her eyes narrowed at me. “I already had a vacation, remember? With Sam. My fiancé. Sam who I live with.”
My body shook with anger and I pinched the bridge of my nose. I wanted to have patience, but how the hell could I knowing Summer and Lisa were missing? Possibly in danger?
“Fine. We’ll set you up at home.” Flick exhaled, coming to the rescue. “I’ll send a crew out to watch your house.”
“I don’t need anyone to watch my house.” She moved in front of Flick, poking his chest with a finger. A couple of brothers chuckled under their breath, but Flick looked ready to snap.
“The hell you don’t, girl.” He growled back at her, his eyes moving over her face. I gripped her upper arm, pulling her away.
“This is all your fault.” She shoved me then, two hands on my chest. “This club, your stupid father…” she roared, then lowered her voice for only my ears. “You should’ve stayed away like you were warned.”
I stiffened. “What’d you just say?”
“You heard me.” Her upper lip curled. And that’s when it all clicked into place. Emily was the one who’d written that letter to me before I left the Pen. Emily was the reason I’d nearly fucked up my whole world.
I lowered my chin to my chest, taking it all in, seething. “You need to get the fuck out.”
A slap. Her hand. My cheek. “I hate you,” she hissed.
My blood ran cold. “Good.”
Giving her my back, pretending she hadn’t just stabbed it, I looked to Flick and said, “We gonna do this or what?”
Forty-One
Summer
Tremors racked my body, and the wood-paneled walls of the barely lit room did little to keep my imagination from running wild. Everything inside of me ached, the pain so excruciating in my head I’d rather die than experience it another second.
I’d been in and out of consciousness for God only knew how long, my body dried up of blood and tears. For the first time in days, hours, minutes, I was finally awake and somewhat aware, though I’m pretty sure I had a concussion.
Someone had tended the wound on my head while I was out. It no longer bled into my eyes but was covered instead with a dirty, white bandage, which hung over the side of my head haphazardly. I was dressed in the same clothes though, all layered with the stale stench of mildewed rain, blood, and my sweat.
On a bare mattress across the dark-lit room, Lisa lay on her back, asleep. Her arm was bent out at an odd angle off to the side, likely broken, while her neck and face were covered in tiny cuts and dried blood from broken glass. She’d refused treatment when it was offered—I vaguely remember her screaming, Don’t touch me, before I’d lost consciousness.
After the car had flipped, we were pulled out and put into another one within minutes. Lisa was awake the entire time, while disorientation kept me from focusing on faces or locations. I’d woken partially to find we had stopped just outside the front of what looked to be an old, abandoned cabin somewhere in the woods, only for my eyes to shut again.
How was I not dead? That had been running through in my head since the moment I was pulled from the car.
The windows to the old cabin were boarded off, the doors locked from the outside. I couldn’t tell if it was day or night, and part of me didn’t want to know how long it had been. If I found out only hours had passed, I would likely cry again. If it had been days on the other hand, I was certain I’d give up altogether.
Amid my fear and confusion, I’d finally garnered enough energy to stand. But the second I was upright my legs gave way as dizziness nearly encompassed me whole. It was why I was on the floor by the door now, knees to my chest, head tipped back against the wall. I could barely stand without feeling as though I was going to pass out or vomit. Regardless of the nausea, my stomach growled, proof that it had been a while since I last ate. Proof too, that more than a few hours had passed.
I opened my mouth to try and wake Lisa again, but my throat burned so terribly it was as though razorblades were embedded inside. I pawed at my neck, like that would make it work better. I was dehydrated and desperately in need of water.
We needed to get out of there, somehow. Soon. Preferably before whoever brought us here came back.
Thoughts of my father’s face flashed through my mind right then. I hadn’t spoken to him since the night I’d gotten my new furniture. He’d be worried sick, frantic in a search to find me.
My hands shook as I braced them against the floor, warmth gathering in my eyes once more, sans the tears. With a giant breath that hurt to take in, I pushed myself up again and managed to croak out, “Lisa?”
Body throbbing, I limped closer to the bed, head spinning, knees and legs on fire. I’d do something to try and wake her, I just had to make it there first. Then I would try to find something to break through the windows, though I knew it was a long shot. Another step closer and I was there at her side, but voices sounding from outside the house had me freezing in place.
“They were both out cold. Checked on them myself a few minutes ago,” a small, masculine voice said.
“I’ve got to get them as far from here as I can.”
A lump lodged itself into my throat at the unfamiliar voices, choking me. The lock twisted on the door, and I jumped, turning just in time to see the shadows of two men step inside. Bright sunlight entered the room from behind them, and I lifted a hand to hold over my eyes. The door creaked shut with a click, and two sets of footfalls sounded across the plywood floor.
Breathing fast, I lowered my arm, blinking up at the faces now lit by one, lone lantern.
I gasped at what I saw, shock keeping hold of my screams.
One of the men looked so much like Niyol, I had to blink twice to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
That couldn’t be…
“You shouldn’t be up moving around,” the Niyol lookalike growled.
“Do not…” I gasped. “Come near me.”
“Hey, now. That’s no way to treat your future father-in-law.” He chuckled lazily, the sound sending a shot of fear into my belly.
Charles Lattimore had gotten out of prison.
A hand grabbed mine from behind and squeezed. Lisa was awake. I didn’t turn to acknowledge her. Instead, kept my gaze trained on this evil, awful man.
“Why are you…” I managed another breath. “Doing this?”
He put one hand on his hip, fingering the gun in his holster, his head cocked to the side as he studied me. A tattoo ran the length of his cheek, numbers I couldn’t make out.
“Because my son deserves to pay for what he did to me.” He shrugged casually, legs crossing at the ankle as he leaned against the door. “Death was too easy an out for him
.”
I shivered at the thought of what this man planned to do with me, but deep down, the thought of him hurting Niyol made me thankful I was here instead.
“Besides that, he’s blood.” Charles shrugged. “Can’t kill blood. It’s an unspoken rule in my world.”
A whimper sounded from the bed, distracting me from continuing. Instinct and fear had me turning toward Lisa. She was struggling to sit up, her arm pulled to her chest. Ignoring Charles and his friend, I managed to sit on the bed beside her, careful not to jostle her with my movements.
“Let her go,” she whispered to her former lover, glassy green eyes meeting mine. “She’s too pure for this.”
“No.” I squeezed her good hand. “Stop it, Lisa. I’m not leaving you.”
“This is all my fault.” She began to sob, heart-wrenching bellows that echoed loudly throughout the barren room.
“True.” Charles laughed at her. “But now that I’ve got you both here, wifey, what better way to drive Niyol insane than by taking what he thinks is his?” Niyol’s father’s eyes zeroed in on me and winked.
I continued to plead with him, hoping there was a shred of decency left inside of him somewhere. “Please. Don’t do this.”
He scoffed. “Hate to break it to you, girl, but there is no other way around this.” His upper lip curled. “Guess you should’ve thought about that before you took a liking to my son’s dick.”
Movement behind him caught my eye, and I glanced up, seeing a younger guy’s face flashing with both fear and distrust. I remembered what he’d said outside the door and tried to use that to our advantage.
“Please, help us.”
“Do not talk to him,” Charles snarled, grabbing for my chin, digging his nails in so deep I was sure he drew blood. My shoulders began to tremble, and soon my whole body followed their movement.
I shut my eyes, hope falling away. “Please don’t do this.”
“Go ahead.” He grabbed me around the neck and squeezed. Hatred laced his dark eyes—eyes so blistering I feared they would explode. “Beg me not to kill you. That’ll make it so much more fun.” With a grunt, he shoved me back onto the bed, my body landing on top of Lisa’s legs. He straddled my waist, never removing his hand.
I clawed at his wrists, eyes blurring from the lack of oxygen.
“I don’t blame you for getting sucked into his world,” he snarled, never losing his grip. “Us Lattimores are charming men who always get what we want. It’s just a shame one of them isn’t worth the pot he pisses in.”
Lisa began to scream, her form jumping at Charles from the bed. The other guy was there to intercept, slamming her back and onto the floor. My eyes shut, my fight, my struggle, wavering the harder he squeezed.
Before another round of darkness could overtake me, Niyol’s father shoved me back against the mattress, but thankfully let go of my neck. I gasped for air and pressed a hand to my throat as I rolled onto my side and coughed.
“Do as he says.” Lisa crawled up next to me on the bed, her body close.
“Get them ready, boy,” Charles growled low from the other side of the room. “We’re wasting time.”
“He wants to hurt Niyol,” Lisa whispered into my ear. “And in order to keep him and Emily both safe, we have to go with him. But I won’t let him hurt you again.” Her face had grown paler as I blinked open my eyes to face her, right before she said, “I should have never let things get this far. This is all my fault.”
I blinked in confusion, my throat too sore for me to speak. That was the second time she’d mentioned that. What did she mean?
“Put these on.” Something landed on the bed between us. Two new dresses and blindfolds. I had no idea how I’d put them on when the simple act of breathing hurt so badly. “You got five minutes.” The kid’s feet thudded across the room, followed by the slam of a door.
I gasped for more air, panic overtaking everything. Oh, God, what if this was it? Truly?
“Shhh, Summer, I won’t let them hurt you again. I promise.” Lisa helped me undress, her voice far too calm for this. But her words made no sense; ramblings of a crazy person. “I made so many stupid, idiotic choices when I was a teenager.” She helped me get my arms through the dress, tossing my old clothes onto the floor. “If I hadn’t, then we would have never been put in this position.”
“What… do you mean?” I managed.
“I’ve known Charles Lattimore since I was sixteen years old.” She stared down at her hands, which both trembled on her lap.
My face fell at her words, my body still nearly limp on the mattress beside her.
“I got pregnant then by Charles. Then I married him not long after that. I lived as a Red Dragon old lady for almost two years before I got pregnant again… with Emily. Once she was born, I took her, and left.”
Slowly, I managed to sit up, a hand still pressed to my throat. I felt savaged, brutalized, the pain beyond the worst I’d ever experienced. Somehow, though, I managed to sort through the thoughts swirling like mad inside of my head; all the lies Lisa had told Emily, about not knowing Charles until later in life, about Emily being the result of a one-night stand…
Yet none of those things were true.
Lisa dropped her face into her hand, her bad arm still hanging limp. “I’m such a fool.”
The pieces began to put themselves together in my mind. Emily was almost three years younger than Niyol. Two years after her first child was born, Lisa got pregnant again. Her first child wasn’t Emily.
Oh, Jesus…
Tears streamed down Lisa’s cheeks when she met my gaze and the second it all clicked into place, she spoke words I was in no way ready to hear.
“Charles is Emily’s father, Summer. And Niyol…” She sucked in a breath. “Niyol is my son.”
Forty-Two
Niyol
It took us less than an hour to figure out the truth. Several phone calls to some guys on the inside of the prison that Flick knew, people he’d done dirty work for, gave us the answer we’d been dreading.
Pops had gotten out.
Escaped.
Then, thanks to a few guards he’d paid off, his revenge plan against me was put into motion.
I don’t know how it happened, the logistics of his escape. Didn’t really care all that much either. The only thing I wanted to know was where Summer and Lisa were—and whether or not they were safe.
We’d been sitting in church for an hour, me pacing the floors, the rest of my brothers too damn calm for my own good. I looked to Flick, my entire body raging with fire.
“I’m done sitting around, motherfuckers. We need to be out there, looking for ’em.”
“Tryin’, Hawk.” Flick didn’t look like he was trying. If anything, he looked bored, least to everyone else. But I saw the twitch by his eye, felt the shake of the floor as he bounced his knee. He was ready to feel the blood of my old man on his hands, maybe even more than me.
Not sure what had happened within the last two years to break the two of them apart. Sure as hell couldn’t be because of me. But there was something there, something bad. Something I’d find out about in the coming weeks, if I was still alive.
Before I could punch another hole in the wall, Flick’s phone rang.
I was at his side before I could blink, reaching for it, until a hand grabbed the back of my shirt and tugged me away.
“This is not your job,” Archer growled into my ear.
Against him, I shook with rage. “Let me the fuck go.”
He yanked me back, then shoved me against a wall, getting into my face. “Let the man do his fucking job, Hawk.”
“That’s my fucking woman out there, damn it,” I seethed, shoving him back. He didn’t budge, solid mass under my hands. Archer had always been a skinny guy, but the past two years, I’d noticed, had done something to him.
“Yeah, I get it. We all do. Why the fuck do you think we’re here?”
I rubbed a hand down my face. “I can’t…” My th
roat closed off, my eyes blurring. I would not fucking cry, damn it. I didn’t fucking cry. Ever.
He dropped his forehead to mine, squeezing the front of my shirt, knuckles digging into my throat. A warning. A comfort.
“Get your shit together,” Archer shook me. “You want her back, then be a fucking Dragon. Not a pussy-whipped boyfriend.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. He was right. No way would I get through this thinking with my heart.
“We got a lead.” Flick slapped the table and stood. “Young kid. Dee is what he said his name was.”
“Who the hell’s Dee?” someone asked.
Archer stepped away, meeting Flick at his side. He looked down at the paper in Flick’s hand, swiped it up, then gave it to Slade, who’d been like a fly in the room, hovering. Quiet.
“Prison guard. Said he was with Pops,” Flick barked. “Give me stats on the motherfucker. Someone. We need a real name. Credentials.”
The brothers went in full-on research mode. Phones to their ears, until someone came back with news.
“Former Army,” Slade was the first to reply, now sitting behind a computer at the table. Smart motherfucker he was, he’d hacked into the prison system. “Name’s Andre Lopez, a former Marine from So Cal.”
“Good.” Flick nodded, then looked to another guy, a new prospect turned member while I’d been put away. I’d met him once. His patch name said Chop. “Location stats?”
“Looks to be a cabin outside Springfield, Illinois.”
“Let’s go then.” I balled my hands into fists. “Now.” Then stepped toward the door.
“Where the fuck you think you’re going?” Flick growled at my back.
I froze. “To get them.”
“No fucking way. Not with Pops there,” Slade said, grabbing my arm.
I narrowed my eyes at him, then Flick. “You can’t stop me.”
“Think I can.” Flick folded his arms. “You showing up there would be suicide, especially if this is a trap.”
Teeth gritted, I snarled out, “I’m. Fucking. Going.”
Her Wild Ride: An addictive, steamy biker MC romance suspense novel Page 26