by Jennifer Ann
King Marty tips his head back with a hearty laugh that rattles against my empty stomach. “If you expect me to believe a word of this, you’re a foolish, foolish man. Lucinda was South Side trash, but she was no fool.”
“Your brother confided in me on his death bed, said he was sterile. Lucinda pretended Ryker was his, and he didn’t want to lose her, so he went along with the lie. It would take a mere blood test to prove it’s true.”
I wrap my arms around my middle, willing this to be some kind of a nightmare.
King Marty’s laughter becomes a sickened sneer. “If my brother knew you were with Lucinda, he would’ve slit your throat in your sleep.”
“That’s precisely the reason we kept our relationship a secret. It started long before I began working for you, and it went on for decades. I had no interest in my child, only his mother. I fed her drugs so she’d always come back to me for more. When that slut threatened to leave me for another man, I did everyone a favor and injected her with a lethal dose.”
King Marty inhales a sharp breath. “You killed Lucinda?”
“You bastard!” I roar, staring directly into Terrance’s calloused expression. “There’s no way Ryker’s related to a monster like you. Why would a father want to hurt his own son by killing his mother, and kidnapping his girlfriend?”
His lips curl in disgust. “Because you’re a whore, just like his mother. I’m not going to allow my offspring to make the same mistake I did.”
Despite the sickening rush in my stomach, I boldly smile back at him and laugh. The insult doesn’t bother me. There’s not an ounce of truth to it. If anything, I was deprived of sex before Ryker.
But my flippant response must get under Terrance’s skin because he rushes at me with a guttural roar. King Marty jumps between us, knocking him to the ground. “Run!” he yells as they’re scuffling.
Dazed, I scurry past them into the hallway, taking a split-second to get my bearings straight. The sounds of King Marty and Terrance fighting among Terrance’s shouts for Walt follow me as I race to the stairway, silently praying that someone isn’t waiting at the top.
As I’m pushing on the door, the loud blast of a gun echoes through the bunker. Then another. I jump with each one, stomach folding over itself.
Oh god, was one of them shot?
Swallowing a growing ball of fear, I’m more determined than ever to escape. I’m able to swing the heavy door open, met with a veil of confusing darkness and the smell of rain. I blindly run across the dirt floor with my hands held out in front of me, water sloshing through my stomach.
Finally I catch a ray of light peering between cracks of the building’s siding and head in that direction until I find a door. Tears of gratitude rush down my cheeks as I yank on the handle, pulling the door open and stepping out into the pouring rain.
I’m literally in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing more than an empty lot where a house once stood, and fields of tall corn.
It’s eerie, like a scene from a horror movie. Not having any sense of direction, I take off on the gravel road, splashing my bare feet through puddles as cold rain soaks me to the bone. I move at a speed faster than I’ve ever reached on the treadmill, chills racing across my pebbled skin. If I don’t die from fright or a gunshot, it’s possible pneumonia will finish me off before I figure out where the hell Terrance brought me.
I’ve made it all the way down the long driveway before I hear the roar of an engine, and car lights flash behind me.
Fuck!
Before I can veer off into the cornfield, the car skids to a loud stop beside me in the ditch, kicking up a cloud of gravel and rainwater. I shield my face from the flying rocks, realizing my mistake when a set of arms snag me from behind. There’s barely enough time to turn and register Walt’s my captor before his fist comes at my face.
Warm lips on my forehead and large hands on my face among the sound of a steady beep rouse me from a dreamless sleep. With the memory of Walt’s fist coming at me in the rain, I startle fully awake, struggling to get away.
As the hands tighten on my face, intense baby blues fill my vision, locked on mine. “It’s okay, gorgeous. It’s me.”
“Ryker?” I take his bearded face in my hands, heart clenching, eyes watering. “Oh my god, am I dreaming? You’re supposed to be in Guam!”
“You’re safe,” he assures me, pressing his forehead to mine. There’s a hitch in his voice when he adds, “You’re okay, baby.”
Both confused and elated, I kiss him, crying against his mouth with the familiar velvety-soft touch and his rich scent. He pulls me into his strong embrace and kisses me back, brushing his tongue against mine until I’m warmed from the inside out, and my heart slows to a steady beat.
My soul soars when it sinks in that I’m safe in the arms of the man I love. The nightmare could’ve ended so many other ways, but we somehow found our way back to each other. Fate brought him back to me. Among tears of blissful joy, I break the connection of our lips to press soft kisses all over his gorgeous face.
I draw back to get my bearings straight. I immediately recognize the typical South Side hospital room from Charlize’s most recent stay. It’s a little outdated, but clean, and I have the room to myself. Muted sunlight tries to shine through vertical curtains. There’s an IV stuck in the back of my hand, and I’m wearing a fresh hospital gown. Best of all, I’m dry and warm. “What happened? How’d I get here?”
When my eyes return to his, they’re impossibly dark. “A bartender found you half naked and unconscious outside of Slick Willie’s.” He slowly shakes his head, lips trembling with rage. “Thank fuck it was her and not some junkie.” Sliding his hand over the side of my hair, he continues to shake his head, like he’s having a hard time wrapping his head around the situation. “Do you remember anything?”
My last memory involves Walt knocking me out. Why would he do that, then dump me on the South Side? “Terrance came to your house while I was on the phone with you. I figured it was Morrison—that’s why I hung up in such a hurry. He promised he wouldn’t hurt Char if I went along with him and didn’t put up a fight.” Realizing Terrance is not likely a man of his word, I dig my fingers into his arms and suck in a sharp breath. “Oh god! Please tell me she’s okay!”
“She’s fine. She was really shook up when you disappeared though. Gave Morrison a little scare after she forgot to eat. Her blood sugar went really low, but she was still with it enough to tell him what to do. She’s home with Raven, probably still sleeping. You were still out when I got here, so I promised Raven I’d call once you were awake so she could bring your sister to see you.” Concern floods his expression as he continues smoothing down my hair. “Where did he take you?”
“I don’t know. He forced me into the trunk of a car, used some kind of ether to knock me out. When I came to, we were in an old barn-like building, and he took me into an underground bunker.” I stop to run my tongue along my dry lips, debating how much of what Terrance said I should repeat. What if he was making shit up to get under King Marty’s skin? “They were harvesting organs down there.”
Ryker hands me a plastic cup of water with a straw, anger still lingering in his expression. “Drink this. They put you on an IV because you were so dehydrated. Other than the bruise on your face and a big bump on the back of your head, the doctor said you’re unharmed. What’d they do to you, babe?”
While taking a sip of the water, I bring my fingertips up to graze over my throbbing eye. My nose hurts, too. The way Ryker scowls, I’m guessing I have a good shiner from Walt’s punch.
“Who hit you?” he demands, venom dripping in his tone.
“One of Terrance’s men—Walt. He caught me trying to escape. I don’t understand how I got here. I figured he would take me back to the bunker.” I wrap my fingers around his thick wrist, stopping him from stroking my hair. “Your uncle was down there with me.”
Shoulders dropping, his eyes flicker downward. “My uncle’s dead.”
/> I gasp as my heart slams still. “What?”
“A cop found his body in the street right outside my house in the middle of the night. He was shot in the chest a few times. Guessing Terrance dumped him there to send me a message.”
A surge of vomit rises in my throat knowing a dead body was deposited that close to Charlize. What if they had gone for her next?
Most of all, I feel awful that he’s lost his uncle.
“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Tears spill down my face as I drag my fingers through his meticulously-trimmed beard. “Your uncle attacked Terrance, and told me to run. I heard gunshots on my way out, but your uncle made me promise I’d keep going without looking back.” My lips waver with a sad smile. “Your uncle was a good man. In the short time we were alone, he told me he didn’t know at first Terrance was killing those college kids. He came back to stop him, but they held him captive. Your uncle didn’t order the hit on Trask either. Terrance did.”
“I know,” Ryker tells me, wrapping his hand around mine. “We found Bender in Guam. He took us to meet with someone who knew the real story of what happened to Trask and those girls.” Lacing our fingers together, his eyes lock with mine. “My uncle really helped you escape?”
“Yeah. After I told him I love you, he said he was going to get me out of there.”
His eyebrows rise. “You told him you love me?”
Nodding, I run my teeth over my dry bottom lip. “I did…because I do.”
Darkness finally fading from his features, a little smile dances across his lips. “I’ve never been in love before. Infatuated, maybe. That’s probably what I was feeling the night I found you in Pinky’s.” Beautiful eyes glowing with sincerity, he drags a gentle finger up and down along my cheek. “But when we first got to Guam, Rook said something that made me think about us—how much you mean to me…the shit you do to my head when you’re fighting for your sister…or telling me that you believe in my music. Then Morrison called, said you were missing. I was fucking gutted. I refused to accept that I might’ve lost you, because I knew I wouldn’t survive it. And that’s when I knew without a trace of doubt that I love you.” The smile spreads across his kissable lips, making my heart flutter and stealing my breath. “The intense things I feel for you couldn’t be explained any other way.”
I’m overjoyed by his words, but reluctant as he captures my mouth. As he delivers a toe-tingling kiss, my stomach drops. This conversation is far from over, and the worst is yet to come. But I don’t have the strength to ruin him that way. How can I possibly tell him the man he’ll have to bury may not actually be his family?
15
Ryker
Late into the night after my uncle’s graveside service, the guys, Brooke, and Raven stick around drinking craft beers by my backyard fireplace, listening to music and reminiscing about the old days. With the pending murder investigation, the funeral was delayed an entire week and a half. For someone who once ruled over the neighborhood, attendance was considerably small, involving a few of his oldest business partners, and my friends. The sheriff and a handful of his deputies stood watch around the perimeter of the cemetery for any sign of Terrance.
It was the worst day of my life, having to bury the last remaining member of my father’s family. The thing that stings the most about this whole cluster-fuck? The last time I saw my uncle, I was so goddamned angry. I didn’t have a chance to talk to him after learning the truth in Guam. Once I convinced myself he had killed Trask, I began to despise him. There’s this darkness associated with having those feelings that may never subside.
But there’s no looking back, no changing the past. It is what it is. Moving forward, I’ll throw everything I’ve got left in me into the band, Bender, Charlize, and Zoe. They’re the only family I have left.
As Rook shares hilarious stories about the older guys he’s been jamming with in Connecticut, he holds his wife’s hand the entire time, occasionally rubbing her belly. It’s a real fuckin’ trip seeing the responsible version of my old friend. And Brooke either grew hotter in the past five years, or motherhood’s exceptionally attractive on her. Regardless, I couldn’t be happier for my old friend. She’s good, and she saved him when his life was at its darkest. I’m even happier for him knowing exactly how he feels, having found a woman I’d walk to the ends of the earth for the way he would for Brooke.
It’s been bothering the hell out of me that Zoe hasn’t been herself since she was released from the hospital. Her sexual appetite hasn’t changed any, but whenever I’m not buried deep inside her, she’s notably quiet. As everyone else laughs and gets involved in the conversations, she sits curled up at my side, playing with the hem of the tasteful little black dress she wore to the funeral. She seemed especially upset a few days back while I was making arrangements for my uncle’s service. Then during the reading of his will, she walked out when the attorney got to the part where his entire estate was left to me.
I’ve asked her to repeat her story several times, making her swear she wasn’t excluding anything Terrance or his thugs did to her. And the one time I asked her if my uncle had done something, or said something upsetting while they were alone, she broke down with uncontrollable sobs, saying again that he was a good man, and he had saved her life. Raven told me to drop it, but I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right. I don’t know if it’s some kind of survivor’s guilt thing, or she felt close to Uncle Marty after whatever happened to them in that shelter. But I’m starting to think she’s more shaken by his death than anyone.
Though she’s good at concealing the nasty bruise on her face with makeup, it’s hard to stop myself from becoming unglued whenever I imagine that Walt asshole punching my girl. As soon as we figure out where those cowards are hiding, I plan to make Terrance and every last guy under him pay for hurting three of the people I care about most in this world. I refuse to let Trask and my uncle’s deaths go unpunished.
“I’m going to bed,” Charlize announces, hopping to her feet among a yawn.
“It was so nice to meet you,” Brooke calls out, flashing her a bright smile. “Good luck with school this fall.”
Charlize’s returning smile is a little awkward, but she’s getting there. “Good luck with the baby…and everything.”
She bends to kiss me on the cheek—something she started doing after Zoe told me they’re moving in, and I offered to hire a decorator to makeover Charlize’s room to her liking. She’s been fuckin’ giddy ever since, showing me ideas she found online. I don’t know much about her before they first agreed to stay here, but Zoe has told me several times that her sister’s becoming a different person. One she can tolerate. No better feeling than seeing that kid coming out of her shell.
Zoe stands beside her sister, eyes landing on mine. “I think I’m going in too.” While playing with Charlize’s hair, she flashes me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, babe. I’m still trying to catch up on sleep.”
“Don’t apologize for being tired,” I tell her, trying to keep my voice steady so I don’t sound like a dick. Why the hell does she feel the need to be apologetic with me?
She wishes everyone goodnight, exchanging a lingering hug with both Raven and Brooke as they each whisper something to her. When Brooke and Zoe first met a few days ago, they hit it off like they’ve known each other for years, laughing and carrying on an endless conversation. Rook and I were grinning at each other like a couple of goons. It was a good fucking feeling. Like it confirmed the fact that Zoe belongs with me and my crew.
I walk the sisters to the door leading inside the house, stopping to pull Zoe into my arms. “I fucking love you, gorgeous,” I whisper before burying my face in the crook of her neck. “Don’t know that I could’ve made it through today without you.”
“I love you too, baby. I know this has been hard, but you’ll get through it.” Letting out a breathy sigh, her arms squeeze around my back. “You’re strong like that.”
“Go fill the tub. I’ll wrap things up with the
guys, then I’ll come in to wash your hair.”
“It’s okay,” she insists. “Rook’s only in town a few days. You should spend time with them. You don’t have to fuss over me.”
“I do, because I know how much you love it. Besides, I’m tired as shit.” I slide my lips along her neck, hoping she’s in the mood for more than a bath. I could use the release. “The only thing I want to do right now is pamper my girl, and hold her while I fall asleep.”
She gives in with a soft, breathy, “Okay.”
I brush my lips over hers, letting the kiss linger until she releases me to follow her sister through the doors. Once I’m sure they’re safely inside, I double check the security alarm. Knowing they’re out of sight leaves me uneasy as hell. I haven’t slept for shit since I got the call saying Zoe was dumped at the hospital, unconscious. It may only be a matter of time before Terrance comes back for one or both of them. I’ve been packing a pistol on me at all times, and plan to take the girls to the gun range in the next week. They need to be prepared for anything.
“Zoe’s great,” Brooke tells me as I rejoin them. She grins from ear-to-ear, hazel eyes bright. “Charlize too.”
Running my fingers along my beard, I take the open seat beside her. “I think this thing with Terrance really messed Zoe up.”
While adjusting her glasses, Brooke nods knowingly. “I’m sure it did. Learning your uncle died helping her may have created some underlying feelings of guilt, too. It’s going to take time for her to fully recover. You need to find her a good therapist. I can give you the names of some that would be a good fit for her, assuming they’re still practicing in the area. In the meantime, let her know you’re there for her.” She tips her chin at Raven. “All of you. Don’t make her go out if she’s not up for it. Hang out here and watch her favorite movies—anything that doesn’t involve violence.”
Raven stops flirting with Morrison long enough to study Brooke, eyebrows shooting up. “You some kind of therapist or something?”