The Arachnid Conclave: A Suspense Romance Novel (MC Saga Book 2)

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The Arachnid Conclave: A Suspense Romance Novel (MC Saga Book 2) Page 12

by Brogan Riley


  I’ve corrupted their net by seals and viruses that will keep the security system frozen for a while.

  I hope my dad reads the message or I’m totally fucked.

  My heart pounds in my chest. A cold sweat pricks my back. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be in their psychopathic hands even more.

  There’s silence, as dreadful as that before an avalanche starts. Hair rises on the back of my neck. A big hand grips my wrist and yanks me out of my hide-out. Hannah starts screaming. Her arms shoot towards me, and she grips my ankles. She pulls me back but the big hand is stronger.

  God, please help me.

  God, please save my baby.

  The hand grips the back of my neck and lifts me up like I’m a little doll. My glance meets a scorpion’s cold eyes.

  The other scorpion grips my wrist with two of her hands and she makes a quick twisting motion. I wail at the pain from my crushed bones and tissues. Blackness obscures my vision for a moment.

  I sway and they shove me out of the room. I fall to my knees. My vision clears and I raise my eyes. I see a woman. She looks like she’s insane.

  She’s Mistress Leticia. She’s holding an iron device in her hand. It looks like a medieval torture device.

  “No,” I gasp.

  Hannah

  The floor quakes as a few of the doors bang, emitting a long sound like a sequence of explosions in a mine. Smoke envelops me and I start coughing. Clattering and thumping sounds fill the air and mingle with human roars and shouts. Leticia turns around and starts running toward the farther end of the corridor. The iron device falls from her hand and bangs against the floor.

  I realise Chantal is clinging to me.

  One of the scorpions tears her away from me and I’m thrown back into the room. I hit the wall. I rise to my feet despite the pain exploding in my skull.

  I need to save her. She’s his daughter. He won’t save me if I let her die. He needs to know I’m not like them.

  I can hear people swear.

  I can hear people die.

  I sweep my arms in a chaotic attempt to pull away the curtain of smoke. Stupid Hannah. I roll my fingers into fists and fling myself out of the room, but I bounce off a male figure instead. I freeze.

  The smoke dissipates and I see a young man. I blink a few times. He’s not a scorpion. He’s not an arachnid.

  He’s a biker.

  I remember what bikers look like.

  Relief washes over my heart.

  “Please, help me,” I shriek.

  The gun is his hand stirs.

  “Please,” I say. “I’m Hannah. I’m not like them. Please, help me.”

  His beautiful grey eyes lock onto mine. “Let’s get you out of here,” he says in a husky voice.

  His voice is so beautiful. It soothes me and brings hope to my heart.

  He shakes off his leather cut and wraps it around me. I sigh as he lifts me off the floor and pulls me to his chest like I’m his bride.

  I feel safe.

  “Who are you?” I rasp.

  “I’m Jake.”

  “Do you know Liberator?”

  “I know him so damn well.” He kisses me on the forehead. “He’s my dad.”

  “Chantal—“

  “She’s safe, don’t worry. I’m taking you out of here.”

  I feel like emotions are flooding me. I drown in my happiness and relief. I can’t breathe.

  I drift off into oblivion.

  Chantal

  The mansion is burning with all the dead bodies left to incinerate inside of it. We’re watching the fire from a safe distant but the stench spreading out in the air makes me retch. Dante wraps his arms around me from behind as the desert’s cold night falls upon us. A chill bites my skin. I shiver from the cold and from the adrenaline still circling in my veins.

  “He just stopped and turned back,” Dante repeats.

  “My dad is famous for his sixth sense,” I say.

  Dante tightens his embrace around me. “Thank God we read that message…” His voice breaks.

  I run my good hand up and down his forearm. My other wrist is in a splint. It hurts as fuck but I refused to take any pills. My baby’s health is my priority.

  My dad holds his gun trained on Sabine’s forehead. “Give me one reason, bitch, one fucking reason why I should not put a bullet into your skull.”

  Sabine flashes him a defiant smile that turns into a devilish grin in the red aura emitted from the burning mansion. “You definitely should put a bullet into my skull.”

  “Sabine’s helped me, dad,” I say. “Please, don’t hurt her.”

  My dad lets out a series of furious growls.

  I suspect Sabine was involved in putting him in prison many years ago. I guess, he has the right to hate her. I don’t know that ugly part of her. I know she’s helped me.

  My eyes sweep over Jake still holding Hannah in his arms. She’s so tiny compared to him. So grateful each time her good eye meets his.

  My brother is so gentle with her. I’ve never seen that part of him. Like ever. Like he’s not Jake anymore.

  My eyes sweep over the survivors.

  We’ve saved eight lives. It’s Hannah, four young women, two young men, and Sabine.

  They want asylum with our club, but Sabine wants to die apparently.

  “Dad, please,” I say. “Just give her another chance.”

  “She’s fucking crazy,” my dad growls, “and fucking traitorous like a snake.”

  “So kill me, you idiot,” Sabine says.

  My dad tilts his head, his eyes narrowed, and he flashes her a predatory grin. “No, changed my mind, bitch. You’re gonna get a job in my clubhouse. You will earn your asylum with your hard work.”

  Sabine rolls her eyes. “You’ve always been too soft.”

  “And you’ve hardened, bitch,” my dad says and nods several times as if in amazement.

  The sound of the fire digesting the mansion travels through the air like a dense exhalation of justice.

  I know all the locations of their cells. I know numbers. I know how to reveal all the names. They use a special code to encrypt their messages. By the time they learn about the fall of this cell, we’ll have gathered all the information we need.

  We’re gonna play with them.

  We’re gonna hunt them down.

  We’re gonna kill them all.

  “I thought I’d gone mad,” Dante says, his voice sounding pained.

  I turn to face him. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Move people,” my dad interrupts our conversation.

  Yes, the two helicopters that belong to one of Zeus’s friends are waiting for us. The FBI will find out about the fire sooner or later. I’d say it will be sooner.

  We have to vanish as always.

  Dante grabs my good wrist and pulls me forward. The humming of the helicopters guides us. The sound grows in strength as a cloud of dust strikes my face. My eyes and mouth fill with the desert sand. I start coughing. Dante bends me, moves me forward, and lifts me up. I’m blind and deaf, but two pairs of strong hands pull me inside a helicopter.

  I sit down, pulling my knees to my chest. I rub my eyes. I see Jake sitting opposite me and nursing Hannah within his body. Something pricks my heart. They look so beautiful together.

  My dad pulls me into his arms and buries me in his bear-like embrace. “Let’s go home.”

  Hannah

  “Hey!” Jake’s beautiful voice wakes me. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine, thank you.” I don’t like the jet but Jake is with me so I feel safe. We’d spent a few hours in some rich man’s beach house. He’d fed us and had given us clean clothes. His doctors had looked at our wounds. Then we’d walked over to his private jet airport.

  Liberator has asked me a lot of questions. I couldn’t answer them. I don’t remember who my parents were, but Jake said he’d find them.

  “You want a cup of tea or something?” Jake asks.


  “What a chivalrous knight,” Chantal says from across the jet room.

  “Shut up,” Jake snaps.

  Chantal rolls her eyes. She rises to her feet, pulling up the chequered blanket wrapped around her back, drops beside me, and squeezes my shoulder. “We did a really good job. I’m proud of you.”

  “You did a good job,” I say. “I’m just an ant and…” My voice falters.

  I’m not an ant.

  I’m a seventeen-year-old girl. I’m a human. I’m in love with Jake. He is my hero.

  He is my everything.

  Jake kneels in front of me and holds my hands in his. Heat radiates from his skin to mine. “Everything’s gonna be fine,” he says.

  “Fasten the belts,” Liberator growls from his seat.

  I shudder, but Jake chuckles. He strokes my head and returns to his seat. Chantal does the same. Her husband kisses her on the mouth and they start whispering to each other. Joy laces their voices.

  Jake winks at me from his seat.

  My hand jerks up and I smooth my fingers over my scar.

  My heart crumbles into pieces.

  Sabine shakes her head and looks at me with pity. She turns her face toward the window and looks out.

  I lean back in my seat.

  I wish Jake wanted to sit beside me. I wish he kissed me.

  I wish he loved me.

  He must hear my thoughts because he rises to his feet and strides over to me. My heart stops beating. I squeeze my eye shut and flinch in embarrassment.

  “Hey, Hannah, you okay?”

  I inhale his smell—rainforest and smoke. He smells like a hero. He really is a hero.

  I open my eye and avert my face so he doesn’t look at my scar. He leans toward me and throws his arm around my back. His mouth touches the top of my head.

  I wish he kissed me on the mouth.

  He doesn’t.

  Why would he? I’m not his wife.

  I’m damaged.

  “Why so sad?” he asks.

  “I’m very happy, sir,” I murmur.

  My glance meets Liberator’s. I know I shouldn’t look him straight in the eyes. He’s the leader. My behaviour is inappropriate.

  But I keep staring at him.

  His fierce grey eyes fill with curiosity as he sweeps them over Jake and me.

  “Dad, what do you think?” Jake thrusts his chin out toward him, his hand on my head. “This little flea will be a perfect asset to our club.”

  “You need to ask her nicely if she wants to stay with us,” Liberator says and grins like he has fun at our expense.

  “I want to stay with the club,” I gasp.

  “You see, Dad?” Jake says.

  Liberator nods and scratches his head. “She’s gonna stay in the lighthouse then.”

  Jake nods. “I can sleep on the couch downstairs.”

  Liberator shakes his head. “You’re gonna sleep on the couch in the clubhouse.”

  Chantal and her husband start laughing.

  “You see?” Jake says to me with humour. “My own dad just kicked me out of my own house.”

  “I can sleep in the clubhouse, sir,” I say.

  “No way in hell,” Jake says in a menacing voice.

  Chapter 16

  Chantal

  I step out of the jet. My feet touch the ground and my mom’s arms abduct me. She sobs as her body shakes. The reality hits me hard.

  They are dead. Gina, Priest, Thunder, and one of the club girls. My chest feels painfully hollow at the thought of what Sonja must be going through now.

  Each of them is a wound on my heart that will never disappear.

  My mom pulls away from me. She freezes as her eyes fall upon Sabine.

  “Hello Poppy,” Sabine says.

  “Hello,” my mom says in a cold voice.

  I see Santi walking towards us. He grips Sabine’s arm and drags her away from us.

  My mom takes a deep breath and smiles at me but I know that meeting has been very disturbing to her.

  We get in a state-of-the-art touring caravan and Jake takes the driver’s seat. My dad settles himself in the front; my mom sits down beside me so I’m between her and Dante. Hannah curls up into a seat in the back. Jake starts the engine and nods at my dad. Our drive home begins. Two similar caravans follow us.

  We’re heading home. I don’t know if it still exists though. Dante didn’t tell me much. I know there’re some cops involved.

  I know the future is uncertain.

  I get off the caravan five hours later. My eyes roam over my surroundings. The compound wears the signs of fire. The smell of ash still lingers in the air. Alien faces mingle with those of my friends and relatives.

  The funerals are very modest and quiet. We’re tough people. We grieve in silence and with a shot of vodka in our hand. The urns join the one that belongs to Jessica.

  Dante asks me that we go visit his parents. I know he’ll leave me soon to do club business. I know he has to do this just like all the club members have to.

  We sit at the table in the living room of our caravan.

  “You wanted to tell me something, Chantal.”

  I huff out. “You’re gonna be a daddy.”

  He freezes, pain and joy mixing all over his face. “How are you feeling?”

  “Not bad given the fact that I’ve spent a lot of time in the air recently.”

  His hand searches for mine. “I’m a happy man, you know.” He plants a kiss in the hollow of my palm.

  “I don’t want you to go,” I squeak, “but I know you have to.”

  “Yes, I have to go.” He leans towards me and kisses me on the temple.

  “I’m a biker’s wife.”

  “You are.”

  “Can I be a cry-baby for five minutes?”

  “You can.”

  I curl up into his chest and feel my tears soak his t-shirt. I allow myself to be weak for a few minutes. Then I wipe the tears away and flash Dante a cocky smile. It’s hard for me.

  But it’s even harder for him. Now that he knows about the baby, he must be heartbroken.

  I know some of old ladies become widows. That’s part of our life. My baby may be an orphan soon.

  I’ll be brave. I’ll have hope. I’m going to be my husband’s supporter, the best he could wish for.

  Two days later.

  We step into an expensive restaurant. I smooth a hand down the wide hem of my grey dress. The satin fabric reflects the light emitted from three crystal chandeliers.

  Dante pulls me towards our table. He’s wearing a white shirt and a grey suit. All female eyes turn to him as we take our seats. Pride fills my chest. This beautiful man is mine. All the bitches in the world can only look at him.

  “Chantal?” His hand searches for mine. “You’ve been very quiet, you know.” Concern fills his eyes.

  “I’ve been thinking about our baby. I’ll need a scan soon.”

  His face lights up just like it did when I told him about my pregnancy. He brings my hand up to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “I’m so damn happy, you know.”

  “Promise me you’ll come back to me.” I choke back tears.

  “I can promise you I’ll do my best to stay alive.”

  “Fair enough.”

  He shoves his hand into the pocket of his jacket and takes a small box out. It’s made of red velvet.

  I snatch it up. “At last. My brand is beautiful but I want to have a nice ring on my finger.”

  Dante chuckles. “Hope you like it.”

  I open the box and look down. The ring is beautiful but very modest. It’s made of white gold and holds a gem the colour of my eyes.

  A waiter approaches our table and waits to take our order. Dante deals with him while I try the ring on. It looks perfect.

  Dante smirks at me but one of his fingers twitches. “You like it?”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “I wanted everything to be as it should be.”

  “We’ll never be like the r
est of the world.”

  “I know.”

  My heart skips a beat. “You could go back to your old life.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  I nod, tears pricking my eyes. I’m so proud of him.

  The waiter delivers our order and we start eating.

  “Nervous?” Dante asks.

  “No. Why would I be nervous?” I grab one of the forks instinctively and look around. I slide my hand towards the edge of the table and fork falls into my clutch bag. My eyes meet Dante’s. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nobody’s perfect.”

  “You’re right.”

  “You have to love all of my flaws.”

  “I love them, Chantal. I love you more than anything.”

  I flash him a bright smile and focus on eating. A thought courses through my head. I stiffen.

  “Dante?”

  “What is it, baby girl?”

  “You have to take that fork out of my clutch bag.”

  His eyes flicker with amusement. “It’s just a tiny fork. They won’t even notice.”

  “But God will notice.”

  He nods, but I can see his laughter fighting for its way out of his chest. “Alright.” He grabs my bag, takes the fork out, and twists his chest, tossing the fork onto another table.

  “Thank you,” I say, feeling so damn grateful.

  “Anytime, baby.”

  Half an hour later, we leave the restaurant and get into a cab. Dante throws his arm around my back as his other hand massages my tummy in a circular motion. I look at the rear-view mirror and notice that the driver, an old dry man, is smiling at this gesture.

  “I have four kids,” the driver says.

  “I want to have five kids,” Dante says.

  The driver chuckles. “The little woman may be of a different opinion.”

  “If he keeps his promise I can bear ten of his kids,” I say.

  The driver nods. A sacred silence layers us for a moment. I look out the window. The sky is black with even darker clouds that float like gloomy specters. The city is bathed in rainwater and lights that create a misty sparkly aura.

  The cab stops. Dante pays and we get off. Thick droplets splash against my forehead as we walk over to his parents’ place, holding hands. My eyes slide up and down the façade. It’s a three story wooden building topped with a tiled roof. His parents step out of it. Warmth fills my chest at their joyful smiles. They’re so happy to meet me.

 

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