“Of course you’re not a saint,” I scoffed. “No one is. You’re mouthy and rude as fuck, and you say shit before you think about the destruction it would cause when we both know if you’d just take two seconds to think it through, you wouldn’t say it. You’re stubborn and independent to a fault, which is irritating as fuck.”
Cecilia nodded, like I was finally reading her right.
“When you feel cornered, you lash out. You hate confrontation, and if someone forces it, you say the absolute worst thing you can—not to hurt them, but to get them to back off,” I continued. “You don’t want people to see that you’re kind because then they’d expect more from you. They’d expect you to talk and work shit out, and you refuse to let anyone in that far.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered, wrapping Olive back up in her blanket.
“I know I’ve never loved another person as much as I love you,” I confessed so quietly I wasn’t even sure she’d heard me. “And I don’t think I ever will.”
Chapter 13
Cecilia
I stared at Mark, completely at a loss. What the hell did he think he was doing?
“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say to that,” I said finally.
I wanted to rage. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to pull him under the covers with me and let him whisper all of those things to me while I raked my nails down his back and bit him for it.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied with a sigh.
My rage built.
“How dare you,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “How dare you say that to me now.”
“Cec—”
“No, now you get to listen,” I ordered, raising my hand in a stop motion. “I cannot take one more thing. Do you get that? I cannot handle one more single thing. I am at my limit. This is it. Okay?”
“I don’t expect you to handle anything,” he shot back.
“You just drop that bomb on my lap, and what? I’m supposed to ignore it?”
“I didn’t drop a bomb, and it wasn’t the first time I’ve told you I loved you.”
“This, whatever this was, it was different and you know it.”
He reached for my face and I jerked my head back. No. He didn’t get to do this now. He didn’t get to make this about him. Not again.
“I’m not sure what you expected,” I said, my voice hard. “That I’d confess my undying love and we’d ride off into the sunset? That somehow, now that you’d told me you loved me, that we could just start back where we were before?”
“No, I didn’t think that.”
“You left me pregnant and alone,” I said, my voice vibrating with the anger and resentment I was trying so hard to control. “Because you weren’t ready. Because you wanted to get out of Eugene. Because you wanted to play soldier. You. You. You. Would you like to know what I see when I look at you? Because I see you, too. I see a person that goes out of his way to help others because he wants other people to think well of him, but deep down inside of him is pure self-centered selfishness. Someone who has no idea what it means to stick it out long-term. Who didn’t even go home to take care of his sick mother until it was time to put her in the ground. That’s what I see when I look at you.”
Mark’s face paled and lost all expression. Without a word, he got to his feet and left the room.
And I sat there, breathing like I’d run a marathon, my ears ringing and my heart pounding.
Fuck him and his declarations of love. They were years too late. Couldn’t he see that I couldn’t take anymore? I was so close to my breaking point, I was half tempted to walk outside the gates and yell for Drake to come and get me just so we could finish the cat-and-mouse bullshit. I just wanted it to be over. I didn’t want to be scared anymore, and it felt like I was scared of everything.
After the shooting, I’d been terrified. Every noise, every sharp movement, going to school, driving in the car, even the dark had made me want to crawl out of my own skin. It had taken years for me to get past it, years before I’d even been able to sleep with a nightlight instead of a lamp. I’d deliberately put myself into dangerous situations until I’d become numb to self-preservation. I would’ve rather died than go back to how I’d felt back then.
But I hadn’t died and I was right back where I’d started anyway, and it was a thousand times worse now. I looked down at Olive.
Somehow, in the span of a little less than two weeks, my priorities had completely changed. It wasn’t about me anymore. It was her. Only her. I’d kill for her. Die for her. Sacrifice anyone else for her. The terror that gripped me when I imagined Drake getting ahold of her was debilitating. I found myself counting the steps to the doorway, cataloging all the exits, paying attention to the places we could hide and filing them away, just in case. I would do anything, literally anything, to keep her safe.
Protecting Olive held all of my focus. I’d always be thankful to Mark and his team for coming to get us and protecting us when there was no one else. That was a debt I’d never be able to repay. But that didn’t mean that I forgave him for abandoning me all those years ago. Frankly, I didn’t know when I’d have the emotional space to even contemplate it.
I looked up as someone opened the bedroom door. “What happened?” my mom asked quietly, coming into the room. “Mark just borrowed a bike and took off.”
“Nothing,” I said, rolling my eyes at the drama of it all. “I just laid out some difficult truths.”
“Difficult truths or typical Cecilia-style-annihilation?” my mom asked, sitting down on the bed.
“If you can’t take it, don’t dish it,” I replied stonily.
Mom inhaled slowly and let out a long breath. “We haven’t really talked about it—”
“I feel like this is kind of obvious, but now is not the time,” I replied before she could finish her sentence.
“Maybe now is the perfect time.”
“It isn’t.”
“Really?” she said curiously. “Because he’s here now. The man you never got over.”
“I’m over him.”
“If you are, then why have you never had another serious relationship?” she asked pointedly. “Don’t try to pretend that you’re immune. We can all see that you aren’t.”
“Maybe not,” I conceded. “But I can’t handle anything else right now.”
“Baby,” she said gently. “You let him in, and half that shit is lifted off your shoulders. Trust me on this.”
“If I let him in,” I countered, “it’s going to be a million times harder when he bails again when I need him.”
“I don’t see him going anywhere,” she replied.
“Give it time.”
“I swear to God, you have both your father’s stubbornness and mine, combined.”
“You saw the aftermath last time, why are you even bringing this up?”
“Because I did see the aftermath,” she said, shaking her head. “I saw the way it wrecked you. I also saw him come back, heart in his hands, and you wrecked him right back.”
“He left me,” I said, my voice rising in disbelief. “And then he came back afterward like he could just fix everything.”
“Life isn’t black and white, CeeCee,” she said. “Everyone screws up.”
“It wasn’t a screw up,” I said flatly. “He left, and I was so terrified and helpless and without options that I had an abortion. There’s no coming back from that.”
“You had options,” my mom pointed out. “You were never alone.”
I leaned forward and squeezed her hand. “I know I wasn’t. But we also both know that neither of us believed that I was ready to raise a child on my own.”
“Your father and I would have.”
“I know. I knew it then and I know it now. But I was an adult, and I had to make that decision. It wasn’t your responsibility to carry.”
Mom nodded and swallowed hard, her eyes growing glassy. “I always wished that I could’ve done more
. Done something.”
“You did exactly what you needed to,” I argued. “You held my hand and you supported me, even if you didn’t agree. That’s all I needed.”
“I was terrified that you’d regret it,” she said, her voice almost a whisper, “and that it would make you spiral even worse than you already were.”
“I don’t think anything would’ve made me worse,” I replied. “God, I was snorting so much coke.” I shook my head. “That was part of the reason I made the decision to go through with it. Who knows how much damage I’d done by that point?”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said with a huff. “I was doing anything and everything. I wanted to tear down the world, but I was content with self-destruction.”
“Jesus.”
“I’m past it,” I reminded her. “I’ve been past it for a long ass time.”
“You’re so much like me, you know?” She smiled sadly. “I wish that we could pass down all of our wisdom to our kids in a way that they’d actually pay attention. I never wanted you to go through the shit I went through.”
“We all have to figure things out ourselves,” I replied. “Thankfully, most of us do—eventually.”
“Ladybug,” my dad called, poking his head in the door. “I thought you might be in here. Everything alright?”
“It’s fine,” I replied as he came inside the room. “Just visiting.”
“What’d you do to Woody?” dad asked, stretching out on the bed with us, his back against the wall and legs crossed at the ankles. “He tore out of her like his ass was on fire.”
“You two are a bunch of Nosy Nancys,” I complained without heat.
“We’re your parents, we have the right.”
“The right to ask? Sure,” I joked. “The right to an answer?” I tilted my head from side to side like I wasn’t sure, snickering when he let out an annoyed huff.
“Plan tomorrow is to get to Eugene as fast as we can,” he said, changing the subject. “It’s gonna be another shitty drive, but nothin’ for it. Once we’re back home, we’ll take care of this shit for good.”
“I don’t know how you’ll do that,” I said quietly.
“You let your pop worry about that,” he replied. “You just keep your head down until we get you two safe.”
“I can’t believe they were tracking my phone,” I said, cringing. “I’m so sorry about that.”
“Forget it,” Dad replied with a wave of his hand. “None of us knew it. That shit is usually the way cops track people—not normal, run-of-the-mill fuckwads. Pure chance that they had clout at your cellphone company.”
“I guess I should’ve used throw-aways like you told me to.”
Dad laughed. “Are you tellin’ me I was right about somethin’? Ladybug, write this shit down, I wanna remember it.”
“Shut up,” I joked, nudging his leg with my foot.
“It’s gonna be okay, CeeCee,” he said, grabbing my foot and giving it a squeeze. “You’re with us now and everything’s gonna be fine.”
“I know,” I said, only partially lying. I didn’t know how he was ever going to make things okay again. It didn’t seem possible. But I did know that I felt safer now, especially in the clubhouse, than I had since it all began. There was a security that came with being surrounded by my people.
“We better let you get some rest,” my mom said, getting to her feet. “Ollie’s going to be hungry again before you know it.”
“Ollie?” I said in amusement.
“Olive is an old lady name,” she replied, lifting her hand to stop me as I started to argue. “Not that there’s anything wrong with old lady names. But she’s the size of a sack of flour—she needs a kid name.”
“Ollie’s a boy’s name,” my dad said, groaning as he got to his feet.
“Who says? I like Ollie.”
“Can we just call her Olive?” I asked as my dad slapped my mom on the ass.
“You can,” mom replied. She leaned down to kiss my forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Love you, princess,” my dad said as he kissed the top of my head. “Get some rest.”
“Love you, too. I will.”
I nodded when my dad put his hand on the light switch and looked over his shoulder at me. Then let out a long breath as the room was plunged into darkness, the only light coming from the moon shining in the window. Carefully, I slid down in bed, laying Olive between me and the wall.
“We’re almost home, kid,” I whispered, fixing the fold on her little hat. “then we’ll figure out what we’re going to do.”
Once I’d scooted away from her and got comfortable, I laid there thinking about what our life was going to look like once all of this was behind us, and how Mark would fit into that, if he fit in at all. I imagined the way my reappearance would piss people off back home, the shit I’d have to deal with and what I was willing to take before I pushed back. I wondered how I would fit back into our family. Eventually, though, I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer, and I passed out.
* * *
It wasn’t the cool air, or the lack of sounds, or the presence of someone else in the room with me that woke me up. It was the absence of light coming in from the window. Something was blocking it. Less than a second later, I felt a fist in my hair.
“Get up and keep your mouth shut,” a voice whispered into my ear, as he dragged me from the bed.
As I arched, trying to relieve the pressure on my scalp, I pulled the blankets up over my pillow.
“Fuckin’ bitch,” he hissed as he pulled me painfully to my feet. “You think you’re safe here? You ain’t safe anywhere.”
His breath was hot and wet and as I turned my face, trying to get away from it, I caught a glimpse of a knife in his right hand.
“Baby ain’t in the crib. Where’s the baby?” he asked, the point of the knife poking through the clothing at my ribs. “Huh? Which room?”
Somehow, he hadn’t seen her. Deliberately keeping my eyes forward, I clenched my teeth and firmed my lips. The knife pressed closer and, magically, it strengthened me.
“I’m not playin’ around with you. Where’s the fuckin’ kid?”
Everything I’d done to that point, every mistake I’d made, every scrape I’d escaped from, every bridge I’d burned, every relationship I’d ruined and mended, every decision I’d ever made, coalesced into that single moment. He could do anything to me. I wasn’t going to say a single goddamn word. Not one.
Any parent would tell you that they’d die for their child. I was one of the few who would ever put that into action. And honestly, I was ready.
He was being quiet so he wouldn’t be caught. I would be silent for a very different reason. I couldn’t scream, not without alerting him to where Olive was. I couldn’t fight him for the same reason. Any noise could wake her up. The only weapon I had was my silence.
“Bitch, he wants you alive,” he said, sliding the knife along my ribs. My heart thundered in my ears as I felt the sting and then the wetness. “But he said to get that kid by any means necessary.”
Silence.
His hand went to his waist, and before I could brace myself, he swung me wide and the impact of his fist against my cheekbone was almost as startling as it was excruciating. The only sound in the room was a dull thud. I didn’t even whimper.
He paused. Then, another hit. Another pause. Another hit, this one to my stomach.
I wheezed as I instinctively curled forward and was pulled straight by the hand in my hair.
“You think you’ll win this?” he asked, yanking me forward until our faces were just inches apart. I memorized his face. “Tell me where the kid is.”
I gasped and relaxed as much as I could, letting out a long slow breath. Then I spit in his face.
I’m not sure how long it went on. At some point, I lost track of everything except the overwhelming need to stay silent, to stay on my feet, to stay away from the bed. I focused on each point
of pain as he paused, his words holding no meaning before the blows began again.
Then, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds, the door to the bedroom swung open and light from the hallway shined inside.
The loud report of a gunshot made my ears ring, and I dropped to my knees as the man in front of me went down, his hand still around my throat.
Olive’s high-pitched wails filled the room.
I’d done it. She was safe.
Chapter 14
Mark
“How the fuck did they get inside?” Casper bellowed as the sound of footsteps filled the hallway. I ignored the noise around me as I focused on Cecilia, waiting for her to say something. Anything.
I’d known something was up when I’d pulled in the front gate. Something was off. The back of my neck had started tingling and my gut had twisted, both signs that I’d learned to pay attention to, but I couldn’t see anything out of place. Boys were still manning the gate, a few old timers were sitting out front in lawn chairs passing around a joint, the main space of the clubhouse was empty, but still held the feeling of being occupied.
Not knowing what else to look for, but still feeling uneasy, I’d headed straight to our room. Just to check. Just to make sure.
My hand was on the doorknob before I’d heard the sounds. Thumping, but not with any sort of rhythm. I’d paused, trying to figure out what the noise was. I’d always hate myself for that pause.
Then I’d reached into my holster as I opened the door. And thank fuck, I had.
It had taken me less than a second to process what was happening, and in that small snapshot of time, I’d pulled my weapon from the holster, my body knowing what to do before my mind could even catch up. I hadn’t worried that I’d miss him, not at that distance. I’d fired without hesitation.
“Cec?” I’d called as they both dropped. I knew I hadn’t hit her, but she didn’t respond.
That’s when all hell had broken loose and men began pouring out of the bedrooms, most of them naked and armed to the teeth. The sound of gunshots inside the compound wasn’t unheard of, but inside the clubhouse? That was something else entirely.
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