by Sarah Bale
The hostess points to the table and he heads my way. He looks different than he did the last time I saw him. He’s thinner, his face gaunt, and there are dark smudges under his eyes, like he hasn’t been sleeping. His once shaggy hair is now buzzed close to his scalp. When he gets to the table, he drops his messenger bag on the floor and sits across from me. The only telltale sign of his fear is that he pales as he looks around.
“I’m assuming they’re here somewhere?”
I don’t like the tone he’s using with me. This was his fucking idea. Or maybe it wasn’t. Because he’s acting like he doesn’t want to be here anymore than I do.
“I’m guessing you didn’t pass King on your way in?”
“No. If I had, I might have hit him.”
That makes me snort. “Sure. And he would have hit you right back.”
“Whatever. Do I need to be prepared for them to come in and put a bag over my head before waterboarding me, or can they hold off until I’ve had dinner?”
The anger in his voice is raw, and it pisses me off.
“What do you expect, Chase? The last time we were at a restaurant, I found out you were working with my fucking father.”
He flinches. “And then I paid for it, didn’t I?”
He moves his hand onto the table, and I bite back a gasp. The flesh is scarred and burned from where Bash tortured him. The bones are gnarled and don’t sit right under his skin. It’s hard to look at, but I don’t turn away, even though the sight makes my insides uneasy.
“The surgeons told me today that my best bet at this point it to have it amputated. They think I’ll have better luck with a prosthetic. Of course, the same can’t be said for other body parts that those monsters injured.”
The hate in his eyes is palpable, but he’s not going to get a lick of sympathy from me.
“If you asked me here to make me feel sorry for you, then I’m afraid you’ve wasted both our time. You were literally helping a man that hurt me more than you can ever imagine. And, it wasn’t just a few days, Chase. He hurt me for years. What happened to you was nothing compared what happened to me.”
He stares at me, unblinking. My gut was right – I shouldn’t have come here. Chase doesn’t give a flying fuck about making amends. No, he’s here to make me feel like shit, and I’m not going to give him that kind of power over me. Not when I didn’t ask for this.
“If that’s all you wanted to say, then I think it’s best if I leave now.”
I reach for my purse when Chase sighs.
“Has he reached out to you?”
My skin crawls, but I act calm. “Who?”
I don’t have to ask, but I need to hear him say it.
“Your father.”
“No.”
“He sent me something in the mail.” Chase lifts a large envelope from his messenger bag and pushes it toward me. “He said it’s for you.”
“What makes you think I’m going to open that?”
“He said he’d know if you didn’t, and that I’d be the one to pay.” He pauses. “He sent this to my parents’ house. I’m not naïve enough to think he’ll hurt me. He’ll hurt my dads to get to me.”
He’s right. If my father took the time to figure out where Chase’s parents lived, then that’s who he’ll hurt.
Chase pushes the envelope toward me. “Open it.”
My phone rings at the same time. Unknown Caller flashes across the screen. I feel hot and clammy.
My mouth is dry as I answer. “Hello?”
“Livi. Be a good girl, baby, and open the envelope. I really don’t want to hurt Chase’s dads. They seem like cool dudes. Right now, they’re sitting on their porch drinking some beer. Terrible way to die if you ask me.”
I put my hand to my chest, trying to ease the pain that rips through me. Hearing his voice – fuck – I feel like that little kid who couldn’t fight back and I hate it.
Chase whispers, “He has eyes everywhere. Please, just open it.”
“Livi, open it before I get pissed.”
Blood roars through my ears, and my breaths come out in short pants. My chest tightens, and I know a panic attack is on the horizon. With my free hand, I press against the table, trying to center myself.
“Fucking open it now, or he’s going to be down a dad when he gets home,” my father snarls into my ear.
Cradling the phone against my shoulder, I used both hands to open the envelope. Several photos fall out, and Lucy’s face stares back at me. No, it’s not the Lucy I knew. This version of Lucy has been through hell and back. I know because I looked the same way six years ago. My sweet friend will never be the same, and it’s all because of me.
But there’s something else in the envelope. I shake it and gasp as a finger rolls onto the table.
Chase’s eyes widen. “Is that a-”
The room blurs and I sway in my seat.
“Did you find my little gift? She cried like a little bitch when I cut it off. Figure that’s the least I could do since your bikers killed my helper.”
“You sick fucker.” My mouth is so dry that the words come out in a rasp.
“Careful with the name calling, Livi, or the next gift you get will be a much more important body part, like her tongue.”
The room is still spinning, and I have to grip the table to stay in my seat.
“Is she alive?”
There’s a scream on the other end, and I think I hear someone call out my name, but I can’t be sure.
“She’s still alive, but only because I know how much she means to my girl.”
It’s a lie, though. He doesn’t give a shit what she means to me. She’s alive because he knows hurting her hurts me. It’s the same reason he’s threatening Chase’s fathers. It’s his favorite type of mind fuck.
“Where is she?”
“Ah. Now we’re getting somewhere. I’m sure your bikers are in the restaurant, so you won’t be getting information from me at this time. Don’t even think about changing your number, either. I’ll be in contact very soon.”
“Okay.”
“And Livi—don’t try anything stupid.”
The line goes dead, and I sit there, staring at Chase for what feels like forever.
Finally, I whisper, “I need to leave.”
“Wait. I need to know that we’re done here. I won’t contact you again, but I need the same promise from you.”
“Chase, you’re the one who reached out to me. I’m perfectly fine forgetting you’re even alive.”
He flinches, and I feel like a bitch. Because we both know how his fate would’ve turned out if I hadn’t begged my boyfriends to stop before they killed him.
“I’m sorry,” I say in a low tone. “That was uncalled for.”
“No, you’re right. It’s best if we both forget ever meeting each other.” He looks down before saying, “After graduation, my family is moving. I’m not going to tell you where, but I do need to ask something. Will he be able to find me?”
His eyes are brimming with tears when he looks up. I know the answer he’s looking for, but I can’t give it to him. Not without lying.
“I’m not sure, Chase. He knows people. As long as he’s alive, then there’s a chance.”
“That’s what I thought.” He stands. “I hope for both our sakes that your boyfriends find him and kill him, just like they killed Mitch.”
He walks away without looking back. As he leaves, a waiter heads my way. Shit. Grabbing a napkin, I carefully pick the finger up and put it back in the envelope before shoving the photos in. I manage to do all this as the waiter walks up.
He asks, “Would you like to order now?”
“No, thank you. I actually need to leave.”
“Have a good evening, miss.”
When he’s gone, I grab my phone and send Agent Hill a text.
Me: My father contacted me. Can you meet me at the clubhouse in twenty?
Agent Hill: I was afraid of that. I’ll be there.
Saint and King are waiting for me as soon as I get to the truck.
“Fuck. What happened?”
I catch them up on everything and show them the envelope.
“Agent Hill is meeting us at the clubhouse.”
King says, “I knew we shouldn’t have let you go in there alone. I should have fucking stayed.”
“He had eyes on me. He knew when Chase handed me the envelope and made sure I opened it. Said he’d contact me again. I think this is it. I think he’s about to make a move.”
Saint reaches over, putting his hand on my leg. “Then he’s just signed his death warrant.”
I hope so. God, I fucking hope so. But he’s been ahead of us every way. It worries me that he might be the one controlling this game, and that we’re playing right into his hand.
Saint
I glance over at Liv. She’s fucking quiet as we drive back to the clubhouse, her hands clasped in her lap, though they tremble now and then. Shit. We shouldn’t have let her come, but this might be the only way to get her father to make a move.
When we arrive to the clubhouse, Agent Hill is already there. Liv hands him the envelope, and he grimaces.
“I’ll send this off for DNA testing.”
“Someone screamed in the background when he called. I think—I think it might be her.”
He nods. “If she’s alive, we’ll find her. How long were you on the phone with him?”
“I don’t know. A few minutes?”
“Hopefully it was long enough to get a lock on the signal and we can figure out where he called from.”
She nods. “He said he’d call again.”
I ask, “Is there anything we need to do?”
Because right now I’m feeling pretty fucking helpless.
“Not much we can do right now.”
Liv whispers, “Can Dr. Cross come see me here?”
“I’m sure she can. If not, you can set up a Zoom meeting.”
“Okay.” She weakly smiles. “I’m not feeling so hot. I think I’m going to lie down for a bit.”
King follows her, rubbing her lower back as they walk.
When she’s gone Agent Hill says, “I shouldn’t have left. My gut said it was a decoy, but I had to follow up on the tip.”
“I understand. Do you think he’s going to do something soon?”
He taps the envelope. “The finger is pretty fresh. That means he’s thought this through.”
Shit.
“I’ll make sure we’re ready on our end.”
He nods. “I’ll do the same.”
When he’s gone, I close my eyes and inhale deeply. Time to find the motherfucker and let him see what me and my boys can do.
15
Olivia
King follows me to my room and helps me into bed. I don’t even bother undressing. I’m so tired, and, if I’m being honest, I’m so scared.
King slides in next to me, pulling me into his embrace.
When we’re surrounded in darkness I finally ask, “Do you think Lucy is alive?”
“I do.”
“I do, too,” I admit. “How fucked up is it that I wish she was dead?”
“I get it.”
My eyes water and I blink back the unshed tears. “I just keep thinking about everything he could be doing to her.”
Things he did to me…
“She’s not like me. She’s sweet and pretty innocent. I don’t know if she can handle what he’s dishing out.”
Because I almost didn’t. It happened to me for a long time, and I was trained to take his punishments.
King brushes his lips against my forehead. “You have to have faith that she’s strong enough to pull through.”
This time tears run down my cheeks.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone rooting for me – not until I met you guys. If I had that back then…”
My voice cracks and I stop speaking. If they had been in my lives back then, none of this would have happened. They would have killed him, and I would be free now.
“I’m not going to pretend to know what you went through, Liv, but I do know one thing. You are the strongest fucking person I’ve ever met. I’m sorry no one stood up for you then, but you don’t have to carry that burden now.”
The moonlight reflects in his eyes, making him look as raw and primal as he did the night we first fucked. Instead of lust burning in the depths of his eyes I see love. Love for me. God, when will I ever get used to it?
“I love you, King.”
“I love you, too, babe.”
I lie still until I’m sure he’s asleep. When his soft snores fill the room, I slip from the bed and pad to the bathroom. Undressing, I lie naked on the cold tiles and let myself get lost in my dark thoughts.
My father’s probably raped Lucy by now. More than once, I’m sure. Has he shared her yet? Made her take it from more than one person at a time? Did he choke her until it was almost too late and then leave her in her own vomit? Has she prayed for death? Has she found a way to try to end her life? Are her arms full of track marks from drugs she wants no part of?
When I close my eyes, it’s like I’m there, in that filthy duplex in Baxley. I don’t want my thoughts to go there, but they do. He’d be in the room that he shared with my mother. She’s out or passed out somewhere. And I’m in my room, playing with my toys, trying to be quiet. I was never silent enough, though. Not matter how hard I tried. No matter how well I hid or how far I ran, he always found me.
A sob works its way up my throat, searing me with memories. If that little girl had someone in her corner, would I be where I am now? Would I have turned out okay? Pressing my fist to my mouth, I hold back the sobs. Crying shows that I’m weak. Crying allows monsters to take pleasure in my pain. Crying doesn’t do a goddamn thing to change anything.
I curl into a ball and hold my knees to my chest, willing the past to go away. I’m here. I’m safe. I’m loved. All things he tried to take from me. I only pray Lucy will find the same fortune.
The next morning, I wake up feeling like shit. King is still sleeping, so I dress and slip from my room. Saint’s door is closed, too. I leave them a note saying I’m going to the main part of the clubhouse to cook breakfast for everyone. I haven’t done it in a while and, after last night, I need to clear my head.
No one is up, which isn’t surprising. The guys usually party pretty hard and sleep in. The new bar is impressive. Jas would have liked it…
Ugh. No more sad thoughts.
Maybe if I think it enough, I’ll finally listen to myself. Doubtful, but worth a shot.
The clubhouse kitchen is behind the bar, much like the old one was. I step inside and admire the new equipment that doesn’t look like it’s been used. Saint did add a buffet window, so the guys can get their food without having to enter the kitchen, which is a nice touch. I decide to make a traditional breakfast, with eggs, biscuits and gravy, breakfast meats, and a bit of fresh fruit, for those who are maybe trying to eat a bit better.
By the time I’m done with the biscuits and bacon, some of the club whores are trickling in.
Claws glares at me. “Didn’t know you were still around.”
I smile sweetly in return. “That’s because I’m living in the club officer’s quarters with my boyfriends.”
Kiwi laughs loudly. “You tell her, Liv!”
“Whatever.” Claws then mutters under her breath, “Traitor.”
The room goes silent as battle lines are drawn.
“Claws, if you have something to say to me, then say it to my face. I’m right here.”
“You were working with the Feds,” she spits out.
The other whores step back, watching to see how this is going to play out. It’s probably been a long time coming with her, to be honest. She’s always had a chip on her shoulder where I’m concerned, but I’m tired of her shit.
“Yeah, I was. So what? I’m also the one who figured out who the mole was that was trying to take down the club.
A mole, I’d like to add, that you were awfully close to.”
Everyone looks at her. Her face turns bright red, but I’m not backing down.
“I didn’t know she was a mole.”
“Neither did I. But when I figured it out, I did what I could to protect this club.” I move closer. “Do you know she had Big E killed? That she was going to kill Saint next?”
This gets murmurs from the others.
“I don’t think she would have stopped there, either. And the guys she was working with wanted to bring a new drug into this club. A drug that would make you helpless while you were being raped over and over.”
Her eyes widen, but I’m not done.
“You would have fucking wished you could die, but you wouldn’t, unless someone accidentally overdosed you. You might not like me, Claws, but I wouldn’t wish that kind of life on my worst enemy.”
“Well, because of you, Jas left,” she retorts, grasping for straws.
“She left, but it has nothing to do with me. I’m sorry you never took the time to know her or know why she left. Anything else?”
“Whatever. Sissy, let’s go.”
Sissy darts a glance between the two of us. “I’m going to stay. I’m hungry, and that bacon smells great.”
It’s not friendship bracelets, but it’s a start.
I smile at Sissy. “I made some dip for the fruit, too.”
Her eyes light up. “You remembered that I like fruit? Thank you, Liv.”
Claws makes a sound in the back of her throat and storm off.
When she’s gone, Foxy says, “Good riddance. Now, someone hand me a plate. I’m starving. Those boys couldn’t get enough of this pussy last night and I’m paying for it today.”
This starts a round of rowdy shoptalk and I sit back, listening with a huge grin on my face. I go to the stove and start some more bacon. Suddenly, my stomach quakes and I fight back the nausea that’s threatening to make me barf all over the kitchen. The source of my discomfort is revealed as Sissy and Ducky walk away with plates filled with scrambled eggs. The smell goes away as soon as the chafer is covered, but the damage has been done.