Blood & Bones: Sig (Blood Fury MC Book 2)

by Jeanne St. James

“Yes,” Stella said carefully, “but to pinpoint who...”

  “Sure as fuck she knows who.”

  “But... proof’s needed for...”

  “No. It’s not. She may be carryin’ the proof.”

  Stella’s eyes went wide again and she stared at Red, who wasn’t saying a word, just lying there with her eyes closed. Almost like she was wishing the floor would swallow her whole and she’d disappear.

  He got it. There’d been plenty of days he felt like that, too.

  “If she’s... She definitely needs to go to the ER then... And get the—”

  Sig finally exploded. All this jawing wasn’t helping Red. “Stel, just need you to fuckin’ help her. Goddamn it. That’s it. No more. Ain’t gettin’ the fuckin’ pigs involved yet. I’m gonna handle it.”

  “Sig...”

  “Stella.”

  “You don’t know what’s all involved here, do you? Quite possibly...” She threw her hands up in frustration. “Are you going to risk going back to prison for a stranger if you decide to handle this on your own?”

  Sig frowned at the silent woman on his floor. “She ain’t a stranger.”

  “Wait. You know her?”

  He paused and pressed his fingers to his temple, rubbing it. The pain shooting through his brain was killing him.

  Hell, everything was killing him.

  And Stella asking all of these questions he didn’t have answers for was making it worse.

  Until Red talked, they wouldn’t know shit. But what he did know was he needed to get her cleaned up and food in her belly.

  Stella sighed loudly, then asked, “You got food up in this pig sty?”

  “Some. More downstairs, if we need it.”

  She nodded. “Okay, we won’t move her to the house. Not until we can figure out what the hell happened. Go fill your tub. I’m going to stay with her, try getting her up. Once she’s in the tub, I need you to cook something light. Nothing heavy. She needs fluids, too. More than water. Like Gatorade or something similar. You have some, or do the boys have some downstairs?”

  “Downstairs, I think. For their fuckin’ hangovers.” And his, too, but he left that part out.

  Stella’s lips flattened out. “Go. Go get the tub running. Then go down and grab some and also grab whatever you can cook. You hear me?”

  Sig stared at Red for a moment.

  “Sig...”

  He ripped his gaze from the woman who he had no doubt was broken inside and out and glanced at Stella. “Yeah.”

  Stella gave him a nod. “Go.”

  He nodded back and headed into the bathroom, now glad it had a tub, which he’d told Trip was useless in a bachelor’s apartment. But Trip had said he got a good deal on it and to suck it up, it was only a fucking tub. “Just fuckin’ live with it,” was his final say on it.

  Sig shook his head as he started the water, making sure it was hot and squeezed some body wash into it, making suds.

  Red was probably going to need more than one long soak to get all the dirt off her. But he’d leave that to Stella.

  While he’d handle the rest.

  Chapter Four

  Autumn blinked. Then blinked again.

  All she saw was carpet that needed a good vacuuming. And a pair of dirty boots.

  Those boots belonged to the man who captured her in the woods.

  He’d caught her escaping.

  She had finally been free and now she wasn’t.

  She was never going to get free.

  Never again.

  She just wanted to die. To get it all over with.

  Those boots suddenly disappeared.

  Then a hand brushed the hair away from her face again and it was surprisingly gentle. She hadn’t been touched like that in a long time.

  Every touch she received in the last year had been harsh. Painful. Unwanted.

  Not soft or caring.

  “Hey, I’m Stella. I’m going to help you, if you’d let me.”

  Stella.

  Sig.

  “What’s your name?”

  She turned her head barely enough to see the woman on her knees next to her.

  “If you’re not ready to tell me yet, that’s okay.” She got to her feet and Autumn heard flip-flops head in the same direction the boots went.

  Autumn’s gaze landed on the door. Freedom laid beyond it. It wasn’t far. She could make it.

  Planting her palm on the floor she pushed herself to a seat, her only focus that escape route.

  She had no idea where she’d been taken, she just knew she was no longer on that hellhole of a mountain.

  On the ride in, she’d noticed it was a farm of some sort. And she was above a barn. She had noticed some fields in the distance and a tree line. If she could get to that tree line, maybe she could disappear.

  But she had no clothes, no money, no credit cards, nothing.

  Even if she had a phone, she had no one to call.

  Except for 911.

  And like that Sig said, once the police saw her, they’d go up that mountain and arrest Vernon, if not more of them, doing more harm than good by tipping off the Shirleys to where she was.

  Then they’d come find her.

  To take back what they deemed as theirs.

  She was not giving them that. Not ever.

  Because what they thought was theirs, was also hers. And right now, she had full control of it.

  Then the woman... Stella... was back, squatting beside her. “Red, the tub’s almost full. I’m going to help you, okay? We’ll get you cleaned up, feeling better. Sig will make you something to eat in the meantime. I’m sure you’re hungry. And thirsty.”

  Hunger wasn’t anything new. She was used to it now. The hollow ache in her stomach. The fuzziness in her brain.

  Even when they brought her food, she had refused to eat it.

  Food would keep her living longer. And the longer she lived, the longer her nightmare continued.

  And she had just wanted it all to end.

  But they had forced her...

  “C’mon,” Stella encouraged softly. “Let’s get you to your feet and into the tub. You’ll feel better once you soak in that warm water. I promise.”

  “Why?” Autumn got caught in her dry throat as the woman helped her to her feet. She tried again. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why are you helping me?” Her voice was so raw, it hurt.

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “No, I don’t. But I’d like to.”

  She was lying. Why would this woman want to get to know her?

  Autumn closed her eyes for a second as dizziness made her sway.

  “Sig!”

  Heavy booted feet quickly approached her.

  “Can you help me get her into the tub?”

  Without a word, she was scooped up again. She lifted her eyes and met his. Brown.

  They held pain. His face would be handsome if it wasn’t so messed up. Like he’d gotten into a fight.

  And the agony he was trying to hide also etched his face.

  Within a few strides, he carried her into the bathroom and put her on her feet only long enough for Stella to pull the T-shirt over her head and untie the flannel shirt from around her waist.

  She should care this Sig was seeing her naked again.

  But she didn’t.

  She no longer cared anymore. Her body had no longer become her own a year ago. It was only a container for the organs that kept her alive and the seed they had planted inside her.

  Sig picked her up once more and, with a grimace twisting that face, gently placed her into the warm water, getting the front of his shirt soaked.

  She felt the need to thank him, but she couldn’t push the words past her lips.

  She forgot what it was like to be thankful.

  It was a strange feeling.

  And she wasn’t sure why she was where she was. What their plans were for her.

&nbs
p; Maybe she shouldn’t be thankful at all.

  But whatever their plans were, she was too tired to care at the moment.

  The warm soapy water pulled at her, making her even more weary.

  Even so, it was a thousand times better than the bucket of water and sponge she’d been occasionally given to use. Or the cold spray of the hose when she began to stink too badly.

  “What do you need from me? Besides some clothes, shampoo and that kind of stuff.”

  “Anything that will make me feel human again and... and not like breeding stock.”

  Stella’s face paled, her pretty blue eyes wide. “Breeding stock?” she whispered.

  Autumn closed her eyes. She didn’t know these people. She didn’t know if she could trust them.

  A clean washcloth appeared in front of her face.

  “Do you want to do it yourself? Or I can help you, if you want.”

  Autumn grabbed the cloth between her fingers and stared at it. “I...”

  “Do what you can while I run and grab you some things. I can help you get the spots you can’t reach when I get back. Sig’s out in the kitchen now, making you something to eat. I have no idea if he can cook. I hope so... I’ll be back...”

  With one last concerned look at Autumn, the woman rushed from the bathroom, leaving the door wide open.

  Then he appeared in the doorway and the smell of something cooking followed him in.

  “Got you some Powerade. Cherry. Need to drink this whole thing. Yeah?”

  She stared at the bottle in his hand as he stood tall over her next to the tub. She lifted her eyes to his.

  Brown.

  Holding a different type of pain this time.

  He cracked the lid on the bottle, removed it, and held it out to her. “Sorry. Don’t got a straw.”

  She said nothing as she took it and put it to her lips. When she began to drink, she couldn’t stop. She hadn’t realized she’d been that thirsty. But she had no idea when was the last time she drank anything.

  She tipped the bottle higher and some of the red liquid slid down her chin and discolored the already brown bathwater.

  “Whoa,” he said, pulling it from her fingers. “Not sure if you should be drinkin’ it so fuckin’ quickly.”

  “You kind of talk like them.”

  Them. Maybe this was all a trap and he was one of them.

  He frowned and set the bottle down on the floor next to the tub. “Yeah, but the difference is I ain’t a hillbilly, inbred, redneck, white trash motherfucker. Just a white trash motherfucker who rides a hog.” His lips thinned for a few seconds, his fingers curled against his thighs and he blew out a soft breath. “Forgot to add ex-con. Anyway, gonna be all right in here? Gotta check the stove. Suck at cookin’ but can make scrambled eggs and toast. Most stupid motherfuckers like me can.”

  Not waiting for an answer, he turned and walked out.

  She scrubbed the washcloth down her face, then over her chest and arms. But the water was so dirty, it was only getting off the worst of it.

  She leaned over, turned on the faucet full blast and partially opened the drain. She rinsed the washcloth under the warm water and continued to work on her crusty skin as best as she could.

  But she quickly tired. Her muscles were weak and her brain still fuzzy. The seed inside her had begun to sap most of her energy a long time ago.

  Then she was back. That Stella.

  Shampoo, conditioner, a razor, lotion and more in a bucket. She dumped the contents onto the floor, and tucked the bucket under the running water. “Lean your head back,” was all she said.

  Autumn complied and a bucketful of warm water was poured over her mess of hair. It would be easier if the woman had brought along a pair of scissors and just cut it all off. She might need to dye it anyway when she escaped and went into hiding.

  Everyone noticed her hair. The color was hard to miss.

  But with a lot of patience, Stella wet her hair, shampooed it, rinsed and did it again. Four times it took to get it clean. And all the while the filthy water kept circling down the drain and clean water kept trying to keep up.

  After massaging conditioner into her hair, Stella began to carefully undo the gnarls with her fingers and a wide-toothed comb.

  Autumn closed her eyes again with how good that all felt. She hadn’t been to a salon since... She couldn’t remember when.

  For a moment, she almost felt human again. Almost.

  Until Stella asked, “How far along are you?”

  The water in the tub was no longer high enough to hide the curve of her belly. “I don’t know.”

  Stella shook her head and Autumn understood her confusion.

  “I... I lost track of time.” She had a good guess, but she wasn’t sure. One day, one week, one month blurred into the next. She had been given no way to keep track of time, and, really, she hadn’t wanted to. It might have been worse to know.

  “You need to see a doctor.”

  She had no money. No way to pay a doctor.

  “I have a great OB/GYN. Maybe—”

  Autumn cut her off. “I just need to go...” Maybe this woman, this Stella, could help her escape.

  Stella gently squeezed her bony shoulder. “Where?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you have family somewhere?”

  “I used to.”

  Stella’s dark eyebrows knitted together. “What does that mean?”

  “I... I can’t go to them.” No. It was because of them she ended up in Pennsylvania.

  In the woods. Up a mountain. In a cage.

  “Anyone else?”

  “No. Everyone I know is in Ohio. If I go back there, word will get back...” Word would get back up that mountain where she was. And if she went back to Ohio, she’d be forced to return. Once again, against her will.

  “Back?” Stella prodded.

  “Just back... I... can’t risk it. I just need to disappear. Will... Will you help me?”

  “Do you have money somewhere? Clothes? A place to go?”

  “No.”

  “How will you survive? You have nothing.”

  She knew that. She did. But hearing someone else say it made it so much more painfully clear. She had nothing.

  No one.

  Not even hope.

  Stella stopped working on a knot when Autumn drew her knees in closer and dropped her forehead to them, curling up as much as the tub would allow. As much as her belly would allow.

  Today was the first day in a long time that she cried. She didn’t think it was possible anymore. She cried in the woods when she spotted Sig. She cried on his motorcycle. She cried on his floor.

  Now she was crying in his tub.

  But the bath was making her feel human again.

  And that was the problem. It was making her remember what it was like to feel something.

  “You’re right. I have nothing,” she said in a broken whisper. Not even the seed that had been planted inside her. She didn’t even have that. Not really.

  Stella squeezed Autumn’s hand that was wrapped around her own shin. “No, I was wrong. You have something now. Us. And my ol’ man loves to remind me that something is better than nothing. I swear it’s his damn motto. That needs to be his next tattoo.”

  Autumn sniffled and wiped her nose on her own knee. “Old man? Your father?”

  A small smile curled Stella’s lips. “No. My ol’ man. My future husband. He’s a biker like Sig. They’re half-brothers. Ol’ man is just a term we use. Like husband or boyfriend.”

  Stella said nothing more as she finished getting the knots out of Autumn’s hair, then took the washcloth and scrubbed her back until it was clean.

  After a while, the water circling the tub became clear. Her fingers and toes were wrinkled and she began to shiver since it was no longer warm.

  Stella helped her up, wrapped a thick towel around her and used another one to towel-dry her hair. “I should’ve brought a hairdryer,” she muttered more
to herself than to Autumn.

  When she was done, she helped Autumn sit on the closed toilet seat and handed her the Powerade bottle.

  “Finish that. I brought a couple things you’ll fit into and then you can eat whatever Sig made. Though, it might be cold now. I’ll tell him to heat it back up.”

  She disappeared for a few moments, then was back with a T-shirt, black leggings and some socks.

  Once Autumn was dressed, Stella said, “We can get the police involved, if you want. Take you to the ER first and then report what happened there. They can arrest whoever did this to you, you know.”

  She didn’t want to do anything but disappear, to somewhere the Shirleys couldn’t find her. “No. They’ll want me back. They’ll do whatever they can to get me back.”

  “For the baby?”

  Autumn closed her eyes. She ignored that question. Just like she did her best to ignore the seed that grew inside her.

  From the beginning, she knew it was better not to get attached. So, she didn’t.

  She was just the host until she was no longer needed. Because she never planned on going along with everything else they had wanted from her.

  “Hey,” Stella whispered, grabbing her elbow. “C’mon, let’s see what Sig made you.”

  The woman with the long black hair with blue stripes assisted her out of the bathroom to the open kitchenette on the left at the end of the short hall.

  And there he was, the man who’d caught her in the woods, who helped her off that mountain, standing behind a short counter with two stools. One had a plate sitting in front of it and a glass of what could be OJ and another glass with what looked like water.

  His dark brown eyes followed her and Stella as they made their way to the stool. As she sat down, she stared at the plate half full with scrambled eggs, the other half two pieces of buttered toast.

  She breathed deeply, inhaling what real food smelled like again. And the seed inside her moved. Surprised, she pressed her hand to her belly. And the seed moved again. Restless.

  It hadn’t died like she feared.

  She had worried that if it died, she’d have to start the nightmare all over again until she gave them one that lived.

  But this one was alive.

  Fear shot through her. Now, they’d be determined to find her. To find it.

  “Did the baby kick?” Stella asked, her face soft and a small smile curling her lips.