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Iron Will: Lords of Carnage: Ironwood MC

Page 18

by Loveling, Daphne

I’m listening with half an ear. “What a jerk,” I mumble.

  “You’re tellin’ me. Frankly, I got the feeling he was trying to work up the guts to ask about me payin’ him back in other ways, if you get my drift.” Bethany’s eyes flit back to Paisley. “What a loser,” she finishes, disgusted.

  “So, did you settle up with him?” I ask.

  Bethany shrugs. “I gave him two-hundred dollars and told him to take it or leave it. It cleared out my checking account, but at least I’m finished with him.”

  We’ve arrived at my house. I pull into the driveway, then help Paisley out of the back seat as her mom continues chattering. I leave the box of my stuff in the trunk for now. I can get it after I’ve dropped Paisley off at school and taken Bethany wherever she needs to go.

  I can only blame my troubled thoughts and Bethany’s distraction for what happens next.

  For not paying attention as we go up the walk together.

  For not hearing the engine of another car as it pulls up outside.

  For me leaving the front screen door unlocked on an unseasonably warm fall day.

  “So, grilled cheese it is!” I say brightly. “You have a choice of cheddar or provolone, Miss Paisley.”

  Paisley wrinkles her nose. “What’s provolone?”

  “She’s good with cheddar,” Bethany says, sinking into a chair at my tiny kitchen table. “On the other hand, this crazy kid likes wheat bread more than white. Go figure.”

  “Wow. That is crazy.” I pull out the bread and a pan and get to work on lunch. “So, Paisley,” I ask, “Are you happy to get back to school?”

  I almost hesitate to ask the question, knowing that Paisley has had a rough time with some of her classmates. But to my surprise, she bobs her head excitedly and flashes a grin.

  “Addi’s mom says when we get to school we’re supposed to ask where her room is, so I can find it if I ever need to go talk to her. And also she said she can start driving me home after school so me and Addi can play in her classroom until she’s done working.”

  “Bailey’s been so nice,” Bethany sighs. “I can’t believe she’s okay with taking care of Paisley after school. It sure will help me while I start looking for another job.”

  “That’s great!” And it really is. God, things really seem like maybe they’re starting to pick up for the two of them. Funny, it seems like it’s all because of the MC, directly or indirectly.

  Ironically, the only part that isn’t going great is the part I was supposed to be taking care of.

  I set some buttered bread in the pan that’s heating on the stove, and start to slice pieces of cheese to lay on top.

  “Do you need any help?” Bethany asks, starting to rise from her chair.

  “No, I—”

  A loud crash from the front of the house interrupts me, making all three of us jump.

  “Where the fuck are you?” a high, angry male voice booms.

  Paisley lets out a small scream, claps her hand to her mouth, and clings to her mother.

  Dammit! I don’t know how we didn’t notice, but he must have followed us here. Turning off the burner in disgust, I throw down the knife and stomp toward the living room, shouting, “Mickey, you get out of my house right n—”

  Which is when I come face to face with the barrel of a gun.

  Mickey points the thing at me, shoving it toward me. I back up towards the kitchen, almost stumbling on the threshold. When Paisley sees him, she screams again and buries her face in her mother’s shoulder.

  “Mickey, what the hell are you doing here?” Bethany yells.

  “You shut the fuck up, bitch!” He waves the gun over toward her. I feel sick, half-expecting it to go off any second. Mickey’s an excitable type, but I’ve never seen him like this. His eyes are open far too wide, the whites showing, and his movements are jerky and erratic. He smells like sour sweat.

  “You stole my car!” Bethany accuses, narrowing her eyes at him.

  “You didn’t fuckin’ bail me out!” Mickey screams. “You didn’t fuckin’ bail me out! You left me in that jail to rot! You fuckin’ bitch! You fuckin’ bitch!”

  “Why should I bail you out, Mickey?” Bethany yells right back at him. “You were the one stupid enough to try to steal drugs from a goddamn hospital! We are over, Mickey! I’m not your fucking doormat anymore!”

  I’ve never seen her like this, either. For the first time since I met Bethany, she doesn’t seem afraid of Mickey. Which, considering the situation, worries me. It seems evident to me that he could go off at any minute — that this gun in his hand, if it’s loaded, could kill any one of us. Maybe all of us.

  I start to feel dizzy. Weakly, I slide into an unoccupied kitchen chair.

  “You’re comin’ with me to see Mazur!” Mickey yells at Bethany. “Thanks to you, I had to borrow money from him to bail me out! He’s gonna come after me unless I pay him back.”

  “That’s your problem!” Bethany shoots back. “I ain’t got any money anyway! You took everything I had!”

  “You’re gonna work it off, bitch,” Mickey seethes, narrowing his eyes. “And you’re gonna start right the fuck now.”

  This isn’t going to end well. Mickey’s not going to leave without Bethany. And Bethany, bless her heart, seems to have finally grown the backbone to stand up to him once and for all. Mickey’s eyes are wide and unfocused as he shouts at all of us, the gun in his hand waving wildly. Any second now, his finger could slip. There’s nothing I can do — no way for me to get to him before he’d have time to take aim at me and pull the trigger.

  “Mickey.” I cut in, speaking as calmly as I can although my voice is shaking. “You really need to leave now. Take Bethany’s car. You can sell it or something, to get the money. Just leave her and Paisley alone.” I shoot Bethany a look that I hope says, Let’s just say whatever it takes to get him out of here.

  But Mickey’s wounded pride seems to have made him almost crazy. “You shut up, you fuckin’ cunt!” he shouts at me. He opens his mouth to say more, but then suddenly stops. Narrowing his eyes, a malicious grin transforms his features.

  “You’re comin’ with us,” he sneers. “You and your fuckin’ ATM card.”

  Bethany speaks up again. “We are not coming with you, Mickey. I already told you that.”

  “And this says you are!” Mickey lifts the gun and aims it at her head. At the last second, he raises it, points it at the wall behind her, and fires.

  Paisley screams and begins to sob uncontrollably. I stifle the cry that’s lodged in my throat.

  “Now get the fuck up and come on!” Micky shouts.

  I don’t think we have a choice. We have to go with Mickey. At least for now. I’m no longer sure he won’t use the gun on us if he feels he has to. We’re alone, unarmed. No one will be able to help us. Desperately, I try to think of some way to get us out of this.

  And then, suddenly, out of the blue, the ghost of an idea comes to me.

  It’s not much of one, but it’s all I have.

  Clinging to a desperate hope, I start to move my arm, as slowly as I can, so Mickey won’t notice any movement. He’s pointing the gun at Bethany and Paisley, watching them as they rise from their chairs and come around the table. My eyes still locked on him, I reach into my blazer pocket. I thumb my cell phone ringer to silent, then move to the volume button and hold it until I’m sure it’s down all the way. As Mickey continues to yell at Bethany, I keep my motions as small as possible, slipping the phone out of my pocket. Under the table, I take quick, furtive glances at the screen out of the corner of my eye, until I manage to find the number I want in my contacts, and press it.

  I slip my phone back in the pocket, praying Mickey won’t hear it ringing on the other end.

  The heel of my hand is over the earpiece, so I barely catch the muffled voice when he answers. I wait a second or two, then take a deep breath and break into Bethany and Mickey’s argument.

  “Mickey,” I say loudly, hearing my voice shake. “I k
now you’re angry at Bethany, but breaking into my house with a loaded gun and threatening us is not the answer.”

  “I told you to shut up, bitch!” he spits at me.

  I try again, wanting to make sure Rourke can hear what’s happening, and that he knows where we are.

  “How did you find my house, Mickey? How did you know where I live?”

  “I didn’t.” He sneers at me, showing his overly-large teeth. “You dumb bitches. I followed you from the motel. You didn’t even see my car.”

  “My car,” Bethany mutters. Mickey looks like he’s going to explode at her. I try to make eye contact with her, try to signal to her to back down, but her eyes are locked on him.

  “Mickey, look,” I say. “Please, for the last time. You need to put away that gun and leave my house. Right now. And let us go. Please don’t kidnap us in Bethany’s car.”

  “The fuck I will!” he yells. He turns to me, spittle flying from his mouth. “Get up outta that chair. Move!”

  Next to Bethany, poor Paisley is still sobbing and trembling like a leaf. I’m afraid to press my luck at this point, but decide to try one more time to get my message across to the person I hope is listening on the other end of the phone. “Where are you taking us, Mickey?”

  “First of all, you are gonna clean out your bank account for me,” he sneers. “So get the fuck up, now! And no more talkin’, or I put a bullet in your head as soon as I get that goddamn money.”

  I stand up, so shaky that I almost stumble. Numbly, I follow Bethany and Paisley out the front door, terrified Mickey will completely lose control of his temper or accidentally pull the trigger and kill one of us. I don’t dare talk anymore.

  Mickey orders all three of us in the front seat of the car. He gets into the back, and tells all of us to stay quiet and keep facing forward. He directs Bethany to drive to the nearest bank and pull into an ATM drive-though.

  I don’t have any idea what happens after I get Mickey the money from my bank account. I have no idea whether he’ll take me with them, or leave me on the side of the road, or do something worse. What I do know is he’s not thinking all that clearly — and that he might be on drugs. And he’s so angry, it’s almost impossible to predict what he’ll do next.

  One thing is certain. I can’t let him separate me from Bethany and Paisley. No matter what happens, I won’t leave them.

  I just have to stall, keep looking for an opening, and pray.

  Pray that Rourke heard me.

  And pray that he gets to us in time.

  27

  Rourke

  Turns out, that ride I was planning to go on doesn’t happen.

  I’m out in my driveway, trying to decide how to time it so I’ll end up in a good place for lunch, when my phone rings. Grumbling, I pull it out of my pocket, hoping it ain’t Axel calling me back to the clubhouse. But instead, it’s Laney.

  She’s never called me before. Not sure what she’d be calling about, since I just saw her a couple hours ago, but I sure as hell don’t mind seeing her name on the screen. I accept the call and pull the phone up to my ear.

  “Hey,” I say.

  But on the other end, no voice greets me back. Instead, it’s a muffle of sounds. Almost like it’s under water. The kind of noise you get when someone butt dials you.

  “Well, fuck,” I snort.

  I’m deciding whether to hang up or to shout into the phone, to let her know she called me by mistake. Just when I figure I might as well end the call, Laney’s unmistakeable voice comes through the earpiece. Muted, but definitely her.

  “Mickey, I know you’re angry at Bethany, but breaking into my house with a loaded gun and threatening us is not the answer.”

  “You can fuck off, bitch!” someone in the background yells.

  Mickey.

  “How did you find my house, Mickey? How did you know where I live?” Laney asks. Her voice is clear as a bell. Almost as though she knows I’m on the line and she’s trying to make sure I hear it.

  Which… fuck, which of course she is!

  “I didn’t. You dumb bitches,” Mickey’s voice shoots back. He says something else after that, but I can’t make it out.

  “Mickey, look,” I hear then. “Please, for the last time. You need to put away that gun and leave my house. Right now. And let us go. Please don’t kidnap us in Bethany’s car.”

  Jesus fuck. Mickey’s at her house. And he’s got a gun. And Bethany and Paisley are there with her.

  It’s the hardest goddamn thing I’ve ever done to hang up that call. But I can’t risk having Mickey hear any noise from my end and realize Laney’s contacted someone outside the house. Heart in my throat, I punch in Yoda’s number and just about go out of my goddamn mind waiting until he answers.

  “Yoda!” I yell as I fire up my engine. “Mickey’s got Bethany and Laney! He’s at Laney’s house, and he’s got a gun on them! Where you at?”

  “Clubhouse!” Yoda yells back. “Fuck, what’s the address?”

  I tell him. “Get there now. But keep an eye on Bethany’s car! I’m pretty sure he’s plannin’ to kidnap them!”

  Following the speed limit, it takes about eight minutes to get from my house to Laney’s. I make it in just over four.

  I’m the first Lord to make it there. Laney’s car is out front, but it’s the only one. “Fuck!” I yell. I practically dump my bike next to the curb and run up the short hill of steps to Laney’s place. I push through the unlocked screen door, yanking my gun out of my waistband. “Laney!” I yell, my voice booming through the house. “Laney!”

  I’m met with silence. The living room is deserted. I go into the kitchen. There’s an open loaf of bread on the counter, and a block of cheese. A skillet is sitting on the stove with a piece of bread in it. It smells like gunpowder in here. I look around, scanning, and finally up at the far wall.

  A bullet hole.

  My stomach roils as I hear motorcycle engines approach outside. I turn and run back out the door in time to see Yoda pull up with Rogue and Mal.

  “We just missed them!” I shout. “This is Laney’s car, so they must have taken Bethany’s! There’s a bullet hole in the wall, but I didn’t see any blood.”

  Yoda pulls out his phone and holds it up to me. “The tracker I put on her car is still there. They ain’t gone far! Looks like they’re only a mile or so away. Car’s stopped right now.” He peers at the screen. “I think there’s a bank on that corner.”

  “I’m guessing they’re on their way out of town somewhere! Maybe to Mazur’s place.” I pause, my mind going a hundred directions at once. “We gotta hope he hasn’t hurt anyone yet.”

  “We can intercept them, if that’s where they’re goin’,” Yoda barks. “Wait until they get outside the city limits and surround them.”

  “I’ll call Axel,” Rogue says, grabbing his own cell. “Have him send a couple brothers out that way to meet us.”

  “No!” I counter, stopping them both. “Mickey’s the vindictive type. The type to shoot them if he sees us coming. We gotta ambush him. We can’t give him time to hurt them before we nab him.”

  “Wait,” Yoda frowns, staring at his phone. “Holy shit! They’re coming back this way.”

  What the fuck? “Okay, shit, get out of here before they see us! You guys go around back.”

  We run to the bikes, and Yoda and Rogue peel out. I follow them just around the corner, park mine out of sight, then run behind a detached garage next door to Laney’s place, praying the owners are at work.

  A minute later, Bethany’s car pulls up. She gets out the driver’s side, and then a second later the passenger door opens. Laney steps out, followed by Paisley.

  Then Mickey emerges from the back seat.

  He barks something at them, and the two women and the girl file up the walk, their bodies stiff, staring straight ahead. Laney opens the door, and they go inside.

  I pull my gun from my waistband but hold off on thumbing off the safety. I want to deal with this
without bullets unless I absolutely have to.

  I zig across the yard on the grass, so my boots won’t sound on the pavement and warn Mickey I’m here. Ducking under the large window to Laney’s front room, I strain forward to listen.

  From here, I can’t make out any words. I hear Bethany’s voice, though. Then, Mickey’s louder, sharper one in response.

  My boots aren’t made for sneaking, so I slip them off and slide up onto the front stoop.

  The voices I’m hearing aren’t close enough to come from the living room. The next logical place they could be is back in the kitchen. You can’t see the front door from there, which works in my favor. Slowly, I stick my head around the jamb of the open front door, ready to fire if I have to. Sure enough, there’s no one in sight.

  Pulling myself up into a crouch, I glide across the threshold and into the living room. The voices are a little louder here, and more distinct. Mickey’s shouting, sounding agitated. I move toward the kitchen, still silent, my eyes scanning all around me to make sure Mickey didn’t bring anyone with him.

  Paisley sees me first. She’s sitting at the kitchen table near the wall, her mother to her right. I barely see Mickey’s arm. He’s standing on the other side of the table in the middle of the room, his back to me.

  Paisley’s eyes meet mine, and I shake my head rapidly once. No. She blinks, then turns back to Mickey, expression unchanged.

  Good girl.

  I move forward, toward the hallway outside the kitchen. From this vantage, I can see all of Mickey from behind. In his right hand is the gun.

  Laney is in a chair on the other side of the table. Facing him.

  I shove my gun back into the waistband of my jeans. From this angle, if I try to shoot Mickey, I’m liable to hit one of the women or Paisley instead. Slowly, slowly, I move further down the hall.

  When Laney’s face comes into view, the only way I can tell she’s seen me is an almost imperceptible widening of her eyes. She freezes for an instant, then exhales slightly.

  “Mickey,” she says, clearing her throat. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

 

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