Bleed Me (Haunted Roads Book 3)

by India R. Adams

  Scars had healed…

  But old wounds reopened…

  My father, Legend, had gained many enemies during his biker reign. From what I was told, it wasn’t his cruelty that earned him those adversaries. Some simply do not appreciate those more powerful than themselves. Legend had many devoted clubs that supported and respected him. That was why, in a short amount of time, he was able to gain so many biker clubs willing to do patch-overs throughout this country, making Steel Stallions into a force to be reckoned with. Other clubs were not fond of the growth and set out to ‘teach’ him a lesson. Hence, Art and I became victims in a war we hadn’t created.

  After my father and Diesel brutally retrieved their children, support clubs that aided our enemies dispersed, each licking their wounds and going their separate ways, not realizing they had taken down the king of it all. Bringing me home ended up being Legend’s final act as a Stallion. The guilt I carried was immense.

  By the time rivals realized my brother had become President of the mother chapter, it was too late for them to regroup and attack. My brother, so much like my father, had instinctively strengthened the bonds that linked all the Stallion chapters. Their loyalty was now his.

  Lynx’s choice in making his club the dominant one was crafty, but he made one grave mistake. He valued the young club member of our enemy, believing the child didn’t have the ability to be twisted and cruel.

  Seth was his name.

  In Greek mythology ‘Seth’ was the god of deserts, storms, and disaster. He was named well. For years, I watched his gruesome upbringing. He watched my suffering by his club’s hands. We both watched his growing interest in sadistic ways, one of us in horror and the other in fascination.

  That evil motherfucker had a train set that he used in ways the toy was never intended. I hated him then, and I hate him now.

  I warned my brother, but he failed to listen since I was still so young myself when I was rescued. All he saw was a damaged girl, confused and misled.

  Now, a decade later, Seth was a young man, and he was out for blood. He was hungry for revenge. We had annihilated his father’s club. So, the young man gathered allies who were more than willing to offer assistance in order to take down one of the big dogs.

  Seth was a dog, too—a rabid one—who needed to be wiped from the face of this planet.

  As soon as Giver and I healed from our gunshot wounds and were able to ride again, we joined in the attempts to locate Seth. There were Stallion chapters dispersed all over the country, terrorizing rival chapters for information.

  They had none.

  Again, that rabid dog had gone underground.

  Tired from a trip to Idaho, our brothers went home, while Giver and I went straight to Saph’s. Phone calls home, while traveling, told us Saph was taking another step in her life. She had met a man and was ecstatic over him. I was so happy for her. She deserved a life outside of school and our kids. Giver had been happy for her, too, but asked that she not bring a stranger around Gracie and Ice since there were many unknowns with our situation. In Sapphire style, she totally understood and had Old Ladies or members babysit when she went on dates with this man.

  I smiled when Giver’s bike picked up speed, and I had to do the same in order to keep up with him. We ached to hold our babies. Those two kids had become the center of our world. It is amazing the love a child can pull from your heart and soul, how much life they can breathe into a tired spirit.

  That’s why they were covered by a member or Prospect at all times. There was no word or sign that our enemy was in Austin, but we took no chances. We kept our true treasures protected while we fought to give them ultimate safety. If someone wanted me dead, or at least to hurt me, Giver, Gracie, Ice, my brothers, or Saph were the way to go.

  Parking in Saph’s driveway, Giver grumbled when seeing the Prospect’s bike there. “I don’t like this kid. Why is he here?” He unloaded off his bike.

  The Prospect was in his early twenties, the same age as James, so I found it comical how he called him a kid. Giver refused to admit he didn’t care for the crush the ‘kid’ had on me.

  Putting my gloves in my side satchel I used for traveling, I chuckled, then headed up Saph’s porch steps. “Let’s go get magic hugs before you get all crabby.” The sun was just now setting so we knew we weren’t too late. The kids would still be awake.

  Even tired, routines can’t be denied. When something feels ‘off’, bells in your subconscious ring. Twisting my key, I quickly realized the front door wasn’t locked. Saph always followed our precautions. She had been a bunny long enough to know we didn’t scare easy. If we told her that locked doors are a must, she made sure to lock them.

  My sight had barely landed on Giver before he was pulling out his gun. With it pointed at the closed entrance, he nodded for me to open the door, then move out of his way.

  Grabbing my own gun, my boot lightly knocked the door open, then I backed away two steps to not get shot if anyone was waiting inside. Giver was gifted with the gun, yes, but he was also a bit alpha and didn’t give a shit about me outranking him when my life was on the line. So, he would be going in first, not interested in any argument from me.

  As the door swung open, we were greeted with silence. I couldn’t see inside yet, but no toddlers were laughing. No TV was playing cartoons.

  With his left hand, Giver tapped his back; he had spotted something that had him needing his back protected. My gun aimed with a straight arm, I quickly pressed my back to his. He walked forward, and I followed, walking backward. He whispered, “One down.”

  My heart exploded with fear. I fought to keep my breath under control. Where are my babies? I knew Giver wasn’t referring to Gracie or Ice because he never would have been so calm if either were on the ground.

  As he turned to the left, my gun followed to the right.

  Headed toward the kitchen and dining room, I saw the Prospect on the floor in the living room, face down, not moving.

  Heading down the hallway toward Saph and the kids’ rooms, I kept my gun aimed at the hallway entry to be sure no one was following us.

  Giver led us into Saph’s room first. Checking behind the door and closet, we learned it was empty. Exiting her room, me still walking backward, I noticed her made bed and clean room. She loved her house and kept it immaculate. Desperate to see her safe, my throat tightened.

  Entering Ice’s room, the closest to Saph’s, Giver’s steady breathing started to change. In a whisper, I begged, “Talk to me.”

  “He’s not here,” he whispered back.

  When he turned to face the door again, that gave me a view of Ice’s room and his crib. That adorable baby wasn’t anywhere to be seen. I swallowed down a sob of panic.

  Next was Gracie’s bedroom. Giver’s breathing was becoming completely labored, which had me groaning. “Noooooooo.” Whatever he saw was causing him to unravel.

  “No.” He fought for control. “Empty.”

  I sagged against him. Empty meant hope was still possible.

  Giver, now leaving the room, gave me a chance to study her room. Her little pink toddler bed was made, just like her mama’s. All her toys were in their proper place. Please be alive.

  No intruders were hiding in the bathroom or kitchen, so we rushed to the Prospect, no longer guarding each other’s backs. Rolling him over, we were surprised to see him blink. He struggled to open his mouth. The blood revealed a hard hit to the back of his head.

  Giver shook his shoulders, demanding, “Where are they?”

  The Prospect just kept blinking. I begged, “Did someone take them?”

  “C-Captain.”

  “Yes! Talk to me now!”

  His arm lifted then and fell over his head, his finger extended. The Prospect was pointing toward the back door. Giver pulled out his cell phone while we both ran to the door. Running onto the back porch, he yelled into his cell, “Dagger! Saph’s! Now—”

  “No!” I screamed when seeing Saph out in the y
ard, on her stomach like the Prospect had been. My feet were moving before I even told them to carry me to her.

  “Bring everyone!” screamed my husband, chasing me. “No, babe, no!”

  He must have seen the blood pooled in the grass, that I was too panicked to notice, and was trying to save me the horror of what I was about to see.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  After the Blood Wedding, there were so many bodies to dispose of. I was shocked at just how many the boys had slaughtered. I remember how haunting it was to witness. Each body was so… lifeless.

  That was Sapphire’s.

  Julie Anne Anderson.

  Lynx had me remember that name for hospital reasons ever since she was pregnant with my first child. My Gracie. Now she was lying face down in the backyard of the home I had bought her. I wanted to drop to my knees. I wanted to reach into my chest and rip out my beating heart so that it would stop disrespecting the mother of my children by being alive. But there was no time. As soon as Justice rolled Saph over and saw the perfect hole in the middle of her forehead, it was as if the blood in her body drained away… just like Julie Anne Anderson’s had.

  Then she screamed as if someone had just murdered her sister.

  Because they had.

  This deranged being just stole a soul-sister from my wife.

  Suddenly feeling as if I had an angel at my back, giving me the strength to move forward—without the mother of my children—I snatched Justice up from the ground and pulled her to me, wrapping her so tight in my arms. My voice trembled. “Give it to me. Give me that memory, Justice. Give me what you just saw so you can breathe. I need you breathing right now. I need you to stand by my side, finding any sign you can so you can help lead me to our children.”

  She shook, grasping my cut with such desperation. In my embrace, she fucking shook to her core. Even her voice shook, matching the terror thrumming through her body. “Dear God in Heaven above, I vow to thee… you give me back my children, unharmed, I will become your weapon of choice. I will do your bidding. I will destroy who you see fit. I will help anyone you feel is in need.”

  Silence…

  I could feel her words being carried through the air…

  Then, I heard a distant—so very faint—cry.

  We both stopped breathing.

  We both held as still as possible, just in case we hadn’t imagined the sound.

  We both gasped upon hearing it again.

  In my arms, Justice peered over her shoulder and into the woods and whispered, “Ice.”

  Running… Our boots pounded the dirt as we ran as fast as our terrified legs would move. Without slowing down and with guns drawn, we entered the woods, seeking out that wail. Prepared to send a spray of bullets into anyone or anything trying to prevent us from reaching Gracie or Ice, we charged with the insanity we needed to face the unknown. With a welcomed madness, I smiled. It was me who was facing the unthinkable. My children were so important to me, I refused to let an alter ego step in and take over.

  As the cry bounced off trees and got distorted, our needed direction became elusive. Justice and I slowed, trying to determine where we needed to run next. I wanted to roar my children’s names but didn’t want the kidnappers to be alerted as to who exactly was coming for them. Vengeance would be ours.

  Again, Justice put her back to mine. We moved in a circle, guns aimed to shoot anything that moved. I whispered, “I think they’re running with him.”

  When she gasped, I practically flew, spinning in the air to face her threat head-on. Her back now to my chest, both my arms were over her shoulders, both hands now with guns, itchy fingers on triggers. Ever since this war began, we were all double and triple-packin’. I was going to shoot anyone who meant Justice harm, and I was sure to have enough weapons and ammo to get the job done right.

  When I saw no attack, my eyes scanned until I found a blanket on the ground ten feet in front of us. In the center of the blue material was the Stallion emblem and the name Ice. The mother in her took over, rushing forward, dropping to her knees. Convinced it could possibly be a trap, I pointed my guns wildly, protecting her.

  Tears breaching her grey eyes, she pulled the blanket to her face and smelled it, like a lioness scenting her cub. “Giver—”

  “We will get them back. I swear it. Now, I need my Captain front and center.”

  She threw the blanket over her shoulder, then doubled-up with guns. Anger laced that beautiful face as she growled, “Let’s go.”

  As we went deeper into the woods, I smirked. “That’s my girl.”

  “Better. Fucking. Know. It.”

  Leaves crunching under my boots, I promised, “Sometimes that is all I know, babe.”

  “Justice and Giver.”

  “Any storm.”

  Within minutes, another cry bled into the growing night.

  We picked up our pace, hoping our enemies weren’t toying with us because there was no convincing either of us to stop following the cries of a child we both were willing to die for. No questions asked.

  A tiny whisper from a long-ago voice had chills breaking out all over my body. “Kenny.”

  Oh my God.

  “Justice,” I quietly called for her to follow me to the right, as I followed the most angelic sound I had ever heard.

  Justice’s breathing was labored as she followed me, not doubting my gut, not asking questions even though the cries had ceased. My Old Lady trusted me as much as I trusted her.

  The next whisper had my stomach tightening and stole my breath. “Daddy?”

  Justice and I spun to the right. Sticking out of a little bush was a pair of tiny pink biker boots. Inside the bush was a now almost-four-year-old Gracie, holding her fourteenth-month old brother, her hand over his mouth.

  Again, the mother in Justice overrode her Captain training. Holstering her weapons, she rushed in and pulled our babies into her arms, tears spilling from her tormented face.

  Again, I held steady, guns over the tops of my family’s heads, daring any fucking idiot to approach my reasons for breathing.

  As soon as I heard more crunching leaves, I ran to cut them off, stopping them from seeing Justice and the kids. I roared, my fingers tightening on the triggers—

  “Giver!” Men dropped to the ground. “It’s us!”

  I almost killed my brothers.

  No time to apologize, I ran back to my family, my guns no longer alone. A small army had joined me. Justice was on the ground, babies in her lap, guns pointed at us. I had never seen anything so fucking hot as that woman willing to kill for the ones clinging to her. Ah, shit. “Babe.”

  Her wild eyes saw our cavalry had arrived and dropped her guns to the ground. Clutching Gracie and Ice, she kissed them over and over, all the while checking them for injuries.

  Gracie was crying. Ice was wailing. They had clearly been terrified.

  My brothers rushed further into the woods to find whoever had killed Saph and scared the shit out of my kids while Justice kept rocking them, crying with them. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, my babies. Shh, I have you now. I have you.”

  My throat tightened for many reasons: the love pouring from her soul to theirs, the guilt she was carrying, and the evident fear I hadn’t recognized until that very moment. Justice was horrified of what Seth would have done to them, like he did to her.

  Gracie’s arms lifted for me. Fighting tears, I picked her up and held her so tight. “My baby. You’re okay.”

  Her little sniffles were painful to hear. “Bad mans weft us hewr. I hid Ice.”

  I kissed her wet chubby cheek. “You are so smart, baby. You protected your brother like such a good big sister.”

  “Mhmm,” she agreed. “I wuv him.” She pointed back from the direction we had ran. “Mama cwied fo us.”

  Picturing that mama with a bullet in her head, I choked out, “She loves you so much, baby.”

  Gracie nodded, her tiny lips trembling. “She run fo us.” In my embrace, she tried t
o show me her mama’s actions by making her little arms move like a runner’s. “But, dose bad mans push her.” She held a hand out and pointed, “Goves. Where’d goves.” Her chest began to heave. “Peeump! Daddy. Peeump!” My daughter was describing a silencer. She cried. “Mama fewll to da gwound.”

  My daughter witnessed her mother’s murder.

  She touched my face with the softest hand. “She needs kisses.” Tears dripped past the teeny lips that would never kiss her mama again.

  I had once thought, had anyone tried to hurt my children, I would be insanely angry and salivating for revenge. I was very unaware the depth to simply holding them again, feeling them safe in my arms, would bring me all the comfort I needed in this moment. How that would be enough to temporarily quell any rage of fire I had churning in my soul. Maybe my love for them was that complete.

  When my brothers returned, saying they found tire tracks and the perpetrator was gone, we chose not to go on a wild manhunt that night. We all agreed that getting families into lockdown and taking care of Sapphire was our top priority. As we took the long way back to the quiet road on which my children lived, Justice cried. Through her sobs, she told me, “You tell her goodbye for me. Okay?”

  That told me several things. One: the club was handling this murder their way. There would be no official death certificate, nor traditional funeral. Two: Justice was never going back to that house. She would never see Sapphire again. Three: I was burying that sweet girl, tonight.

  My chest seized with what I had to do ahead of me. Leaning close to her, I whispered, “I will. I promise.”

  At the awaiting cage, I kissed my family. With my heart pounding, I then sent them on their way, heavily guarded.

  As for the rest of us, we walked silently back to Sapphire’s. I didn’t try to hide my tears when I saw her body again. There was no shame in crying over the loss of the mother of my children. So, I let every agonized silent tear fall as I bent over and scooped up a body I had once been so deeply personal with.