by KB Winters
I looked through the peephole and instead of some punk with long hair or dreads or a buzz cut, it was the most unwanted visitor of all.
Ronan? How did my father find me here?
I schooled my expression and gave myself a few extra seconds to make sure I was totally calm and cool. I wanted my emotions completely under control before I came face-to-face with the man who should have rescued me. But didn’t.
I stood there mulling over my dilemma for what seemed like an eternity. My confusion ended when Ronan banged on the door again.
“Open up, Savannah, I know you’re in there.”
I pulled open the door, leaving the security door locked, though, so we still had a barrier between us. I quickly pulled myself together and hid my shock. “Ronan. What are you doing here?” I asked as calmly as I could.
“Oh, Savannah!”
I listened to him gush about how happy he was to see me.
“You’re alive and well. My baby girl!”
He started talking up memories of my childhood, how he would play with me and make me laugh until I had tears in my eyes. After months of drowning in feelings of betrayal, I almost swooned with nostalgia.
Then I remembered who he was. The man who had sold me out. My father had to have known what Brendan was up to.
Ronan did a good job of pretending to be happy to see me, but a lot had changed in the months they had held me captive and used as currency by a motorcycle gang.
Could I believe his grieving dad BS? This was an unusual display of emotion from a man who for years and years had worked hard to deny me and Brendan even the smallest hint of emotion or paternal love.
I had a flash of Brendan as a little boy. Playful and happy when our mother was alive.
Would Brendan have turned out to be a semblance of a decent human being if Ronan had shown him a shred of affection and care? Ever since Charlie had told me Brendan had sicced the Black Jacks on me, I’d turned my anger on my brother. He deserved it for that horrible betrayal. But the real culprit was my father who turned him into the animal he’d become.
And there it was, our primal wound. Losing our mother. The point when our father shut down and turned into a cold, ruthless man who used his children as pawns to help him build his empire.
Anger began to pour into my veins. Rage hit me again for all my father had denied me.
“How did you find me?” He answered me with a creepy sneer. Looking at him, I couldn’t believe he used to be my hero.
Instead of being afraid, I let my anger be my guide. Instinctively, I knew why he was here. Word had gotten out that Brendan was dead, which meant I was all he had. The female child in a business dominated by toxic masculinity.
Ronan dipped his silver brows low. “What do you mean? I’m here to take you home, sweetheart. It’s us against the world, baby girl. You and me. Like you always wanted.”
Like I always wanted? Hah! He wasn’t here to offer me what I wanted. He wasn’t going to offer me control. That was what I wanted. He’d never given me the time of day other than when he’d ordered me to keep his books. He’d turned me into a glorified fucking bookkeeper. That sure as hell wasn’t what I wanted.
I sent back that same sneering look. “You know what I wanted, more than anything? I worked so hard all of my life to get you to see me, not as your employee but as your little girl. Your flesh and blood. But what did you do? You let every last one of your enemies drug me and fuck me into oblivion. Me, your own daughter. So now I don’t want anything from you. Stay out of my life!”
My chest heaved as my emotions threatened to overwhelm me, but I refused to let him see how much he’d hurt me. I squashed my feelings, and we just stared at each other through the protective screen door, the air crackling with the tension between us. I’d never confronted my father like this. It was supposed to be liberating, letting go of deep held emotions. But it was breaking my heart that I had to say these things to him. To the man who’d given me life.
But I was speaking the truth, standing up for myself. After what I’d been through, after what Ronan had put me through, I deserved that much. If he couldn’t be a real father to me, the way I’d seen Max be a father to Charlie, he could at least see the damage he’d done to our relationship.
In some corner of his cold heart, he would have to live with his truth. His son had been murdered, and he’d killed his relationship with his daughter. Some father he was.
He could die a lonely old man for all I cared.
His brown eyes darted up and down the street, his first sign of nervousness. It told me he was afraid he’d been spotted, that whoever was protecting me might have a rifle trained on him.
We had nothing left to say to one another. I wanted him out of here, away from me. Away from Charlie’s house. This was the man I’d spent my whole life idolizing, and he’d turned out to be my greatest heartache.
“You need to leave,” I said coldly.
He blinked, the only tell that I’d gotten to him. “I will,” he said with a smile. “When you come to your senses and agree to come with me.”
He glanced at the street again. Tension settled in his whole body as a patrol car did a slow stroll through the neighborhood. “Come on, baby girl. You know I love you. Let me in.”
He issued the order so easily, as if I would obey him.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Savannah, you belong with me. With family. Let’s get the hell out of here before that biker comes back.”
That biker. “How long have you known where I was?”
“What difference does that make? I’m here now, so grab your shit and let’s get going.”
I heard a shift in his voice. He began to sound desperate. He had a plan, and it involved me. I couldn’t put all the pieces together, not yet. But years of chess had taught me well. Was he going to sell me out to the Black Jacks again? Or did he have another debt for which I’d be the payment?
“Family? You think you’re my family? What kind of family doesn’t come find me when the Jacks were turning me out? Where were you then with all your family bullshit?”
He shoved his hands deep into the pocket of his gray slacks, looking every inch the sleazy businessman he’d always been, but I was too fucking blind to see.
“Honey, baby girl. You have to understand my position.”
“No Ronan, I don’t have to understand a goddamn thing. I’m not going with you. That’s what you have to understand.”
“And what? You’ll stay here? You think that dirty fucking biker gives a shit about you? That you’re more than a cheap, easy fuck to him?”
“Don’t you even talk about Charlie. You have no idea…”
And before I could finish my sentence, he kicked the screen door and screamed, “Let me in, bitch!”
I fell back, my heart pounding from surprise or fear I couldn’t tell. It all fell apart in the next moment, the relative peace between us, the attempt at civility.
Ronan erupted like a volcano, cursing at me to open the door, kicking and pounding on the screen with such violence the latch gave way and before I knew it, he was upon me, pinning me against the wall in the entry way.
“Fuck!” he said, his sour breath in my face. “We don’t have time for your bullshit, Savannah. We have to get out of here. Now! Do you hear me?”
Ronan reached for me, and at his touch, I froze. His hand on my skin made me realize he was truly no longer my father. In that moment, I was scared—no—I was fucking terrified. From the way he slammed me against the wall, as though I were a rag doll he could just throw around, I knew he had some evil purpose for me. I was defenseless, as weak and helpless as I had been with Roadkill.
Only this time, I wasn’t high.
I had to protect myself. I didn’t know what had gotten into him, but Ronan was out for blood. Mine.
I pushed away from him and ran for the living room. Not fast enough. He yanked me by my hair and shoved me to the ground.
“Y
ou comin’ with me or do I have to beat the shit out of you first?” he growled.
Was this really my father? He was bigger than me, but I was younger and had some of my strength back. I kicked and fought and rolled away from him. His fist came down hard on my shoulder, but I punched back, landing a blow to his eye that stunned him long enough for me to get to my knees.
“You bitch!” he screamed across the room. “You’d do that to your father?”
He was out of control and coming for me. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed the first object within reach, a small bowl on the hall table. I hurled it at him but it missed, crashing to the floor and spraying Ronan with glass.
I tried to run, but he caught my shirt. I yanked out of his grasp and took a step back. “Get your fucking hands off me!” I shouted.
“We don’t have time to fight about this,” he snarled. He was worried, which meant he was ruthless. And that spelled danger for me.
“No!” I said, this time freeing myself from his meaty hold. “How about you fuck off right now and don’t come back.”
“Or what?” he snarled. His brown eyes filled with an ugly laughter and that only enraged me even more. “What are you gonna do, daughter, if I don’t fuck right off?” He advanced on me, using his swollen belly and broad chest to intimidate me. And then he came close, raising his fist.
My heart pumped terror throughout my body. I knew what Ronan did to people who crossed him. I took another step backward and almost fell against the sofa. And there was my chance. But could I pull it off? Did I have the nerve? Was there another way?
“Don’t do this, Ronan. Please.”
“You had your chance, Savannah. You’re a fucking prissy bitch. And now you have to take what’s coming to you.”
Those words echoed in my head, bouncing around like one of those metal fucking pinball games. What was coming to me? I knew what that meant. I may not come out of this alive.
I launched myself on to the sofa, a move that caught Ronan by surprise. I reached for the end table and groped the underside. It happened in a flash.
Got it. The nine millimeter. It was an unfamiliar weight in my hands, but I got used to it in a hurry.
“Don’t take another fucking step, Ronan,” I warned.
He laughed, actually laughed as I raised the gun and aimed it at him. My hands shook, sure, but I was rock solid. Mostly.
“You wouldn’t dare.” He shook his head, smiling as if he was talking to one of his old ass gangster friends. He reached into his breast pocket and I saw the glint of metal.
“We’ll see,” I said, surprising myself with my courage. “Don’t take another step.”
His pistol was in full view when he advanced on me. I squeezed the trigger, barely grazing his left bicep. I prayed that would stop him.
It didn’t.
He took another step forward, frightening me with his eyes. I had no choice. I sucked in a deep breath the way Brendan had taught me and squeezed the trigger on the exhale. This time the hit landed dead center; a red circle formed against the bright white of his shirt.
Ronan smiled. “Brendan taught you well. Center mass.”
He clutched his chest, breathing fast and labored as he dropped to his knees. He fell face forward into the hardwood floor of Charlie’s living room, missing the area rug by just a few inches.
I stared at my father as he bled out, a strange kind of fascination that I couldn’t turn away from as his smile faded along with the color in his face before the light in his eyes went out forever.
Ronan Rhymer was dead. Done in by his own damn daughter.
This was not the end I wanted, but the one he’d asked for.
Heavy footsteps sounded behind me, and I turned with a gasp, gun aimed at whoever was there to fight next. But it wasn’t the enemy. When I saw Charlie’s smile, I thought about the bond that drew us together. He’d killed my brother. I’d killed my father.
“Charlie,” I breathed, all nerves, confusion, but mostly relief. “You’re here.”
“I am. Looks like I missed the party.”
My arm fell heavy against my side and I went to him and wrapped my arms around him.
“Are you okay? What did the cops want?”
He pulled back with a smile and took the gun from my hand. “I’m fine. They were fishing, that’s all. I promise. I’m fine, Vannah. Just fine.”
And simply because I could, I pressed my lips to him and kissed him slow and hard, happy as fuck to see him. Relieved. “I’m glad.”
“You worried about me, Princess?”
For the first time in my whole damn life, I smiled at that dreaded nickname. “I was.” It was a big admission, one I didn’t know how to deal with, so I kissed him.
Again.
Only this time, I poured my whole fucking heart into that kiss.
Chapter Thirty-One
Charlie
As much as it killed me, I pulled back from the hottest kiss of my life. Something was different about her today. Probably her dead old man on my floor. “Worried about me?” She smiled, and I cupped her face, sliding my thumb across her bottom lip.
“I thought you might end up behind bars. You know how cops are.” Her dark brows crinkled in the middle; concern etched on her face as she leaned into my hand. “What are we going to do now?”
I stepped over to Ronan’s body and felt for a pulse. Nothing. “He’s dead.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and pushed the button to Dallas Jr. He answered on the first ring. “Need a crew. My house STAT.”
“You got it boss,” he replied. And I ended the call.
“What did the cops want?” Savannah blinked and took a step back. “I mean, if you want to tell me.”
“What happened here? Don’t tell me you let the old man get in your head?” There was so much to talk about, too much to even know what the fuck to talk about first.
“Yes. No. I don’t know. Maybe a little.”
She’d told me the whole story. Self-defense for sure. She looked down at her dad, lying dead on my floor, a wistful look on her face. “But he’s dead now. Am I supposed to feel something?”
I wrapped my arm around her waist. “Don’t know. Feelings are not my strong suit. Just feel however you feel.”
“I don’t know what I feel. Can we deal with his fat, dead body soon? It creeps me out.”
“Crew’s on their way.”
“What did the cops want?”
Family shit was complicated. I knew that better than most, so I told her what she wanted to know. “They found Brendan’s body and wanted to question me about it.”
“Why you? What do they know?” I hadn’t realized it until that moment, but it was satisfying as hell that she knew they didn’t have anything on me.
“Nothing. I think when Beck stopped by and found you here, it got her mind to spinning tales. She asked how you would feel knowing I was being investigated for your brother’s murder, like that would get me to say something.”
Savannah laughed and shook her head. “That’s what’s wrong with cops. They think they have all the answers. I already know you killed my brother. And I just killed my father. If you want, I’ll even play the role of grieving sister, daughter. Whatever you need.”
“Thanks, but it’s not necessary. They can’t even pinpoint his time of death, so they’ll have a difficult time narrowing down a suspect or a witness.”
She smiled and nodded. “Well, that’s good. I’m glad you’re back.”
I was glad too, especially seeing that Savannah worried about me. That meant she cared, didn’t it? Meant I wasn’t alone in the strange feelings that had come over me recently.
“Me too.” I nodded. “I went to check in at the clubhouse and then I went for a ride. A long one, to clear my head and get some thinking done.”
“Yeah? Did you get some quality thinkin’ in?” She was coming down from her brush with death, but her hands stayed glued to my biceps, telling me she needed to get centered.
�
�I did. Had a lot on my mind.” Just then, a knock sounded from the door.
“Charlie? You in there?” It was Dallas and the cleanup crew, so I went to the door and let them in.
“Hey man, thanks,” I said as they got to work cleaning up the crime scene.
“Not a problem.” Dallas Jr. had grown up in and around the club, so he knew not to ask questions. Not in front of people, anyway. And I was sure he didn’t like seeing Savannah or her father at my house. I was also sure he wouldn’t say anything to anyone.
Savannah and I walked into the kitchen while the crew cleaned up her mess. “So what’s on your mind that kept you out so long?” Savannah asked as she plopped down onto the kitchen chair.
I turned to see if anyone was close enough to hear me. They weren’t.
“The MC and the future. The Ashby family. You and me.”
Truth was I spent most of the time trying to make sense of my feelings for Savannah. Was it smart to fall for this woman? Was I even falling for her? Did she feel the same? I had far more fucking questions than answers, and I didn’t like how that made me feel.
“Yeah? What about us?”
Good fucking question. “That’s the thing, Savannah, I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting you at all, never mind that you’re a smartass bombshell with a killer sense of humor. I could have handled the Ice Princess and kept my distance. I could have continued with my plan to keep you around as long as you were useful to me and then give you a fistful of cash so you could go on about your life. That was my plan. At first.”
She nodded, her face expressionless except a small quirk of a lopsided grin. “I figured.”
“But I can’t let you go, Vannah. Not now. Somewhere along the way you started to matter to me, and not as just some hot fuck, which you totally are.” She smiled at me. “But as something more than a fuck. Something more than casual. Hell, I don’t know woman, just something more. Fuck.”
From her expression, drained of emotion, or maybe just drained of energy, maybe now wasn’t the time. But some things needed to be said.
“You do realize with Ronan and Brendan gone, you are now the head of The Crusaders, babe. You are no longer the heiress apparent; you’re the boss bitch in charge.”