“Uh no. Janessa isn’t ready for that, and I’m not sure I am either.”
“Then I’d suggest you be extra careful,” Tex said. He nodded toward Kalani. “We didn’t plan for Noah or Clayton. Wraith sure as hell didn’t plan to knock up Rin. That’s my baby girl over there. I don’t really want any details of your sex life, or to even think about the fact she’s having sex at all, but be careful. If the two of you really aren’t ready for kids, don’t take any chances.”
I tried not to give anything away, but I must not have succeeded. He shook his head and looked away a moment, then sighed heavily.
“Dammit, Irish.”
“I asked if she was sure. I offered to…” I slammed my mouth shut as he looked at me. “Right, so…”
“I’d suggest you find out as soon as you can. If she’s pregnant, you’ll need as much time as you can to prepare. Janessa hasn’t led an easy life. I’ve tried to make up for it the past five years, but I can’t undo the time she spent with her mother’s family or at the asylum. She’s known love and compassion since I came back into her life, but I sometimes worry that the first fourteen years may have scarred her. Watch her carefully. She’s yours to protect now.”
I looked at the woman cuddled against me. The things Tex said made me wonder what her life had been like before. We hadn’t really talked much, and in a lot of ways we were strangers. I didn’t regret claiming her. We would have the rest of our lives to learn everything about each other.
Assuming we could stop The Inferno before they came for her again.
Chapter Nine
Janessa
The morning light was barely coming through the window when I woke. Seamus was still asleep, one arm across my waist and the other shoved under his pillow. It took some skill, but I managed to slip from the bed without him noticing. I’d been trapped in the house for three days, and I needed some fresh air. I knew if he was awake, he’d find a way to keep me inside. My family had come to visit every day, but it wasn’t the same. If I left the house, it felt like I had two dozen sets of eyes on me at any given time. I hated that feeling and it just seemed better to stay in the house.
I quickly dressed, ran a brush through my hair, cleaned my face and teeth, then crept from the room. At the front door, I put on my shoes and then left the house as quietly as I could. I took in a deep breath when I got outside and started toward the front of the compound. Even I just walked along the roadway for a bit, the fact I was blissfully alone was enough to make me happy.
As I neared the front gate, the frantic voice of a girl caught my attention. I hurried along the road and didn’t stop until I’d reached the Prospect keeping a girl and a toddler out. The older one couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen, and tears were streaming down her cheeks.
“Please,” the girl begged. “I have to see Seamus. It’s really important. My mom told me if anything ever happened to her, that I had to come ask for Seamus.”
I eyed the girl, knowing she was way too old to be his daughter. What connection to Seamus have with her mother? I placed a hand on Killian’s shoulder.
“Let me talk to her,” I said.
Killian shook his head. “Irish would have my ass if I let you talk to her, especially if you step outside this gate. And I’m not about to let her in here.”
I studied the girl, then the smaller one in her arms. When the toddler looked at me, it felt like I’d been punched in the chest. She couldn’t be more than two or three. I knew those eyes. I’d been dreaming about them the last five years. The little toddler had Seamus’ eyes, which meant…
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Shella Murphy,” the girl said. “And this is Payson.”
“Why did your mom tell you to come find Seamus? And where is your mother?” I asked.
“She had a one-night stand with him.” Shella looked at the girl in her arms. “Payson was the result, but she never wanted to tell Seamus. She said he was too wild to ever take care of a kid and she didn’t want him to feel trapped. But my mom died this week. Payson’s three and I don’t want her going into the foster care system.”
My heart ached, both over the fact I wasn’t going to be the woman to give Seamus his first child, and also at the loss these two had experienced. I smacked Killian on the arm.
“Either let them in or I’m going out,” I said.
“You’re just going to take her word for it?” he asked.
“Did you see Payson’s eyes? Because I look at those eyes every morning. I don’t need a DNA test to prove that kid belongs to Seamus, which means she’s mine too.”
“Yours?” the girl asked, her brow furrowed.
“Janessa and Irish are together,” Killian said. “She’s going to be his wife. If what you’re saying is true and Payson is Irish’s kid, then that makes Janessa her stepmom.”
Shella blinked rapidly and nodded, but not before I noticed the tears in her eyes. She handed Payson to me, and the little girl grabbed onto my shirt. She was unusually quiet for someone so small.
“I see my truck is over in front of the clubhouse. Any idea where the keys are?” I asked Killian.
“In the driver’s seat.” He hesitated. “Janessa, you shouldn’t leave the compound. You know it’s not safe. You should at least take some men with you.”
I ignored Killian, knowing that taking care of these kids was more important. Besides, we were just going to pick up their things and come straight back. We’d hardly be gone anytime. I tipped my head toward the truck. “Come on, Shella. Let’s go to your place and see what Payson needs to bring with her, and you can tell me where you plan to stay.”
Shella nodded but nibbled at her lip as we walked over to my truck. I had a car seat in the back that I’d put in for Clayton and I used it to buckle Payson and keep her safe. Shella got into the front and buckled as I started the engine. She gave me instructions to a side of town with small, older homes. They weren’t rundown, and it wasn’t the worst area I’d ever seen, but the people here were obviously struggling to make ends meet. She pointed to a white clapboard home and I pulled into the driveway. There was an older car parked in the carport, but no signs of life other than that.
“Who’s staying with you?” I asked.
“My mom’s friend. She’s only here until arrangements can be made. That’s her car,” Shella said, pointing to the carport.
“Why didn’t she bring you to the compound?” I asked.
Shella shrugged and looked away. I had a feeling there was a story there. I got out, unbuckled Payson, and followed Shella into the house. The place was moderately clean, and very sparsely furnished. If Seamus knew his daughter had been living like this, he’d blow a gasket. Well, after he had a coronary from the shock of having a kid he knew nothing about.
I paused at a picture of the two girls with a woman I assumed was their mom, and the blood in my veins froze. I knew that face, had seen it not too long ago on the news. Their mom was the woman who had been attacked by The Inferno and had died from her injuries. Had she been picked on purpose? Did they know of her connection with Seamus somehow?
“That’s my mom. Irina Murphy,” Shella said.
The woman didn’t look old enough to have a daughter Shella’s age, and I could see why Seamus had been taken with her. She was beautiful, with long blonde hair and big blue eyes. I envied her a little. Even though Seamus was mine and she’d never truly had him, she’d had his daughter and it hurt. Little Payson was adorable, though, with her daddy’s eyes and her momma’s hair.
As I followed Shella through the house, I noticed a woman passed out on a bed, fully dressed and snoring. Bottles littered the floor and the stench of alcohol made my nose wrinkle. I could now understand why Shella had walked to the compound and not asked her mother’s friend for a lift. I hoped the only reason she’d been drinking so heavily was the loss of her friend, but that much alcohol would likely kill someone, especially a person not used to consuming large amounts.
&nbs
p; Shella led me into a small room with a twin bed and a much smaller, toddler bed. There was one dresser that looked like it had seen better days, and I didn’t see a single toy or book in sight. Shella opened the closet and pulled out a pair of dress shoes that had to belong to Payson they were so tiny, then she opened one of the dresser drawers and pulled out all the clothes.
“We don’t have a suitcase, but I can put everything into a plastic sack,” Shella said.
“Where are Payson’s toys?” I asked.
Shella pressed her lips tightly together and didn’t say anything, which was answer enough. This little family had struggled so much that the little girl in my arms didn’t have a single toy or book.
“Shella, if Seamus is taking Payson, who are you going to stay with?” I asked. “Is your father going to take you in?”
“My mom said my dad was a deadbeat loser. One night when she’d had too much to drink, she admitted that she’s gotten knocked up after a concert in high school. She never even knew the guy’s name. I’ll probably end up in the foster system.”
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Sixteen,” she said. “I’ll be seventeen in a few months.”
Holy shit! She was almost as old as me! I’d pegged her for quite a bit younger, and I wondered if a lack of nutritious meals had kept her from filling out. I looked around and knew I needed to make a decision and make it quick. The woman in the other room could wake up, and I knew drunk women could be highly unpleasant. Not that my mom was a drinker, but I’d seen others, when I was younger and still lived with my mom and grandparents.
“Pack your things, Shella. You’re coming with us,” I said.
Her eyes went wide and she hesitated only a moment before pulling her clothes out of the dresser and closet too. Everything looked a little too worn and threadbare in spots. I knew they were going to need new clothes and shoes but had to have something to wear until we could take them shopping. After Shella had stuffed all their belongings into a garbage bag, we went back out to my truck. I was driving through the middle of town when I heard it… the unmistakable sound of motorcycle engines. I thought Seamus had woken and realized I’d slipped out of the compound, but when I saw the men coming up on my bumper way too fast, I knew they weren’t Devil’s Boneyard, or anyone else I called family.
My heart started to pound harder, and I gripped the steering wheel. I glanced at Shella and Payson, making sure they were secure, then pressed the pedal harder hoping we could outrun them. I’d have gladly welcome a police officer pulling me over right then, but none seemed to be in sight. We were nearing the outskirts of town, getting closer to the compound, when two of them veered off, then swerved toward the side of my truck.
I panicked and jerked the wheel, nearly going off the road. The second time they did it, I plowed my truck into a light post. My chest ached from the seatbelt restraining me and Payson was crying and screaming in the backseat. I glanced at Shella, noticing that she was pale and looked scared as hell, but she was still breathing and didn’t look hurt. I unbuckled and climbed over the back of the seat to reach Payson. I’d no sooner unfastened the car seat buckle and pulled her into my arms than the rear door of my truck was jerked open and one of the men reached for me.
I kicked at him and thrust Payson toward Shella. My purse was at home, and I was cursing myself for being an idiot and leaving it behind, especially since it had my new gun inside. A flash of silver caught my eye and I saw one of the sets of throwing knives my dad had given me. I hadn’t even realized they were in my truck until now. I wrapped my fingers around the sheath as they pulled me from the truck.
I gripped one of the blades tight and slashed at the wannabe biker who was manhandling me. I didn’t know who this fucker was, but the fact he didn’t have any so much as the word Prospect on his cut meant he was a great big nobody. The guy laughed and released me, but I had nowhere to run. Not that I would ever leave the girls behind. I looked at the four men, taking note of as much about them as possible this time. They’d attacked during the day and couldn’t hide in the darkness.
The one who had grabbed me might wear a cut with The Inferno colors, but he didn’t have any other patches or titles on his cut, which meant he was a lowly pissant. Every club in the country had some sort of text boasting of the man’s rank. Same for the other three. They may have caught me by surprise before, but not this time.
“Lock the doors,” I screamed at Shella as I slammed shut the one I’d just been pulled from. I heard the locks engage and the men around me snickered.
“You think that’s going to keep us out? Once we’re done with you, we’ll take care of them.” There was a gleam in his eyes that I didn’t much like. I’d die before I let them get their hands on those sweet girls. Payson belonged to Seamus, and Shella belonged to Payson. As far as I was concerned, that meant they were both mine to protect right now.
“Your funeral,” I said. “I’m a Devil’s Boneyard old lady, and those kids belong to me and Irish. You hurt any of us and you’re going to die a slow and painful death.”
“I’m shaking in my boots,” one of them said.
“You should be.”
The younger of the four waved a hand at the knife I still clutched. “You aren’t going to do anything with that. Might as well drop it and accept your fate. Need to send a message to the local club, and you seem like the perfect way to do it. The two young ones will make a nice profit when we sell them.”
Bile rose in my throat, and I knew that I couldn’t go down this time. I couldn’t let them take me, not when Shella and Payson needed me. I drew back my arm and let my knife fly. It sank into the side of the youngest one, right between the ribs if I had to guess. He clutched at it, his eyes wide with shock, as he sank to his knees. When he started having blood bubbles come out of his mouth, I knew I’d hit his lung.
The other men didn’t seem impressed as they moved in closer. I reached for another knife, but before I could react, I heard the most beautiful sound ever. At least a half dozen Harleys were heading toward me from the general direction of the compound, and while I had no way of knowing for sure they were Devil’s Boneyard, I had to hope that help was on the way.
The man closest to me reached out and wrapped his hand around my wrist, jerking my body toward him. I lost my balance and dropped my knives. My heart pounded as I glanced at the girls in the truck, hoping they would be safe. The guy dragging me along shoved me toward his bike.
“You get on and come with us, we’ll think about leaving those girls alone,” he said.
I swallowed hard and nodded. Without another glance, I climbed onto the back of his bike. I had no doubt that I’d pay for it, but as long as Shella and Payson were safe that was all that mattered. As the biker climbed onto his motorcycle, revved the engine, then took off, I looked one last time toward the compound and saw Irish heading straight for me. I’d have recognized him no matter how far away he was. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I held out a hand to him, hoping that he would understand why I had to do this, and that someday he would forgive me.
The bike beneath me jerked and took off down the road. The other two men followed and I closed my eyes as I faced forward. After a moment, I tried to keep track of where we were going. If I had the chance, I would escape. I didn’t think they’d give me the opportunity. They’d likely kill me once there was some distance between us and the Devils. Irish would need to take care of his daughter before he could even think of coming for me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
It felt like we rode forever, but I knew it hadn’t been that long. Probably a twenty-minute ride from town, if that. They pulled the bikes down a dirt path and didn’t stop until a small house came into view. The porch sagged and the windows were covered in grime. Whoever owned it obviously hadn’t cared much for upkeep. The bike came to a stop and I got off, my legs shaking and my body trembling as I wondered how much I would suffer before they ended my life.
I was hauled into the house
and forced down onto a ratty couch with springs sticking up from the cushions in places. The men paced and kept looking out the windows, but no one touched me or said a word. I wasn’t sure what it meant, that I was here and they looked almost… worried? That couldn’t be right. They’d seemed to not fear the Devil’s Boneyard when they’d hauled me from my truck. What had changed in such a short time?
“Did you see the way he looked at her?” one of the men asked the one who seemed to be in charge, the one who had forced me onto his bike.
“Yeah. He’s not going to back down,” the man agreed.
“So we kill the fucker if he shows up here,” the third one said. “No big, right? It’s not like we haven’t killed before.”
“That wasn’t one club coming for her,” the first guy said. “There were at least four, and who knows if there are others. Whoever she is, they’re going to want her back. No one bands together like that. Not over a woman.”
The guy who’d taken me turned a glare my way. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I told you. I’m an old lady for Devil’s Boneyard.”
“That ain’t all you are. What else?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I’m a Dixie Reapers daughter.”
“And the other clubs?” the other one asked. “How are you related to them?”
“I’m not. Not by blood anyway. My Uncle Tank has a brother who’s in Devil’s Fury. My Aunt Laken is married to someone from Hades Abyss. All our clubs are tied together in one way or another, so you fuck with one of us, you get all of them.” Not that Tank and Laken were my blood relatives, but they were Reapers and that made them family just the same.
The one nearest the window paled and started cursing.
“I say we kill the bitch and dump her ass by the road,” the second one said, glancing around as if he expected the Boogeyman to jump out at any moment.
“There’s nowhere you can hide, no place you can run that will ever be far enough,” I said. “Irish and my dad will find you, and they will make you pay.”
Irish (Devil's Boneyard MC 4) Page 11