by Forgy, M. N.
A car pulls up beside me, a young woman with blonde hair looking my way before she quickly darts her eyes forward. Her shoulders tensing with fear. I smirk at her cowardly demeanor.
Seems our name still upholds our reputation.
Pulling up to the club, I back my bike into its spot and turn it off. Exhaling a long breath, I climb off my motorcycle and grab the food from my bags. The smell of hot noodles and crab rangoon making my stomach growl.
“Thanks for riding with me man, I needed that,” I state, buckling up my saddle bags.
“Not… not a problem, brother,” Machete replies, distracted with his phone in his palm. The way his face contorts into concern, I know something is wrong. Raven must have grabbed the wrong nipple clamps or something.
With a lift of my chin I ask him, “What’s up?”
“Zeek has been blowing my phone up,” his tone distressed.
Setting the food down on the seat of my bike, I tug my phone free and see four missed calls from Zeek. My hands become jittery with anxiety.
“He can’t get ahold of Jillian,” Machete reads a text out loud. My head swoops upward to where Jillian and Simone are in the hotel as if I can tell what’s wrong from down here. The feeling of fingers digging into my heart, push my feet forward. Leaving the Chinese behind, I sprint inside the casino, past gamblers and half-naked women serving over-priced cocktails, to the private elevator to our suite.
Machete beside me in the elevator, he tugs his machete from his boot, and I pull my gun from my waistband ready for whatever may go down. This is what I’m trained to do, yet I feel like a loose cannon ready to spray bullets and pray they hit their target.
“I see the vein in your neck pumping, brother. Take a deep breath,” Machete schools.
“Fuck you, your chick isn’t up there,” I growl in response.
I shouldn’t have left Simone. It was too risky leaving her without Outlaw protection. God, I hope they’re just being stupid with the TV too loud or something. Deep inside my gut though, I know they’re not. The sharp coldness on the back of my neck, and the knot in my stomach silently telling me something has gone wrong.
The elevator doors slowly open, and I slide through the opening needing out now. Entering the hallway, I notice the front door to the suite is wide open. I was right, something bad happened. The sound of Catori’s screaming from inside her room makes my blood chill to the bone, and the grip on my gun tightens.
“Simone! Catori!” I run to the sound of her crying and into the baby room. Jillian is laying on the floor, blood pooling around her while Catori cries in her crib.
Rubbing my chin anxiously, I step over Jillian and Simone’s cracked phone to check on Catori. She’s crying hysterically, her dragon right next to her. I frown, knowing for a fact someone placed it next to her. Simone and I made sure it was in the corner of the crib watching over her. The only people to know it means anything is Simone, and I thought she must have moved it. I place my hand under her and pick her up. Spinning her in the air, I check for any injuries, but she’s clear of any wounds. I sigh with relief. Thank fuck.
“Easy baby, Daddy’s here,” I soothe her, pressing her to my chest. I kiss her head, and she quiets some. Her baby smell and soft touch what I needed.
I bend at the knee next to Jillian’s body, pressing two fingers to her neck.
“Is she alive?” Machete asks, coming into the room, his voice cracking with concern. The same question hangs heavy on my mind as I try to look for a pulse. She’s the club’s queen, if she dies the club will lose a part of its soul. Our president will lose his fucking mind, bringing all of us to insanity.
Faintly I feel the vessels in Jillian’s neck beat against the pad of my finger.
“She’s alive, call 911.”
Before Machete can pull his phone out, Zeek and Felix are flying through the front door of the suite, yelling Jillian’s name. He must have given up trying to call her and headed over here himself.
“In here!” I inform.
Zeek marches in, his hair a fucking mess, and he’s wearing just his leather jacket and some jeans. Looks like he was at home relaxing when he started to become worried about Jillian. Felix’s hair is down, his Harley shirt on backward, and jeans smeared with Dorito dust.
Zeek falls to the floor next to his queen, his face pale. For the first time in my life, my president looks lost as to what to do next. It makes me feel vulnerable. Zeek always has the answers and strength for any situation, and right now… he’s fucking lost.
“Oh my God,” he mutters. “Jillian, wake the fuck up!” He shakes her with a trembling hand. Regret smothers me in a dark remorse. I never should have left these girls here by themselves. I bet Veer fucking waited for me to turn my back. Makes me wonder how long he’s been watching Simone, waiting for his chance to strike.
Rubbing my neck nervously, I notice something wrapped around Jillian’s bloody thigh. A piece of my shirt to be exact. Simone must have done it to slow the bleeding, good thing too or she might have bled out.
“We need to get her to a hospital and now,” I tell Zeek. He knowingly gazes at me, he hates the hospital but knows we don’t have a choice.
“An ambulance is on the way,” Machete informs us, already making the call.
Standing with Catori tightly pressed against my chest, her warmth and heartbeat somehow keeping the little bit of sanity I have in check.
“I’m going to check the camera I installed in the hallway.” I hooked it up after Simone came home with Catori.
“Vee—” Jillian crackles from the carpeted floor. I freeze, looking down at her.
My brows pinching together I scowl at Zeek. “What’d she say?”
Jillian coughs, her eyes closed.
“V-Veer!” she replies with more clarity this time. My neck tenses as hard as rocks, my hands coiling into fists at the mention of that fucker’s name. I knew it!
I was right, Veer finally found Simone. But why didn’t he take the baby? Looking down at Catori, her eyes are closed, her cheeks wet from crying.
“Where would he take her?” Felix asks, kneeling next to Jillian. Him standing in the back looking everything over, I almost forgot he was here. I exhale a ragged breath, not having a clue where this creepy fuck might take her. I should have given Simone a pin with a GPS device on it, something Veer never would have seen. Why didn’t I think of that?
I hang my head trying to think where Simone is.
“I don’t know.” The complex words slip out with grief laced around them. Sliding both of my sweaty hands in my hair. I silently pray to God he doesn’t hurt her, he better fucking pray he doesn’t hurt her. Catori needs her mother. Fuck, I need her. She pulled emotions out of me and gave me strength to withstand any storm life relinquishes me. Without Simone, I’ll become numb and suppress any wave of emotion, I’ll be of no use to anyone, let alone Catori.
“Jillian’s phone is missing!” Zeek proclaims, grabbing my attention from Catori.
Wait, maybe Simone has it. My eyes widen and fall to the floor next to Jillian, my mouth next to hers.
“Did Simone take your phone?”
“Dude, back up!” Zeek becomes protective, but I brush him off and ask Jillian again. I need to know if Simone took her fucking phone. It might be the only thing to find her.
Zeek shoves me in the shoulder, but I don’t budge. My eyes glued to Jillian for any sign or signal she can give me about this damn night.
Seconds pass, and she doesn’t respond. She’s out of strength to answer me, and I’m running out of time and patience.
Jumping to my feet, I jog to my laptop sitting on the coffee table in the living room. Placing Catori down on a cushion, I barricade her in with pillows while I work.
Brushing the chip crumbs from the keyboard, I pull up my handy programs.
“You really think Simone has it?” Felix asks over my shoulder.
I type Jillian’s number into my computer as fast as I can and pull up a GPS map.
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“I fucking hope so,” I mutter, my focus on the screen.
A map displays on the screen, and a little red dot finally pops up on the left side.
She must have taken it when she was fixing Jillian’s leg because it shows the phone outside the casino. It will take a while for the GPS to exactly pinpoint where she is though. Anxiety causes my neck to pulse nervously. Shaking my hands out, I stand and begin to pace, wishing my programming was better. I always want it to be better, that’s why I’m always working on it. Learning new backdoors and adjusting my codes. I can get better results with this program, but it takes longer to get them.
Dropping my head, I take a deep breath. I can work with this, I can still save her. I just have to be patient.
“Las Vegas EMT!” Three women race inside the suite with a stretcher, and I stand quickly. One’s short and chubby, one tall and built with muscle, and the other of medium build.
“In there.” I point to the room where Zeek and Jillian are.
Stepping up behind them, I watch as they look Jillian over, and talk to Zeek about what happened.
“Intruder, we’re looking into it. Can you just fucking get her to the hospital!” Zeek snaps at them hatefully. He won’t tell them who it might have been, because in reality, they won’t do anything. Cops will come and ask a bunch of stupid fuck questions, and then leave. That will be the end of it.
No, we will be the law tonight.
They inspect Jillian’s wound and place her on the stretcher, Zeek and Felix by her side.
As they pass me, Zeek stops in front of me. His brows furrowing, jaw clenching.
“Get the ol’ ladies up here to watch Catori, and take whatever men you need to find Simone,” Zeek demands. He grips my shoulder, his eyes becoming ablaze.
“I’d do this quietly if you don’t want the Devil’s Dust getting in the middle. They’ve been blowing my phone up wanting the man’s head who killed Kane. I’m giving you first dibs. So when you find him, don’t fuck it up.” Zeek gives me a commanding look, and I nod accepting.
When I’m done with Veer, he’s going to be coyote shit in the desert. There won’t be enough of him to worry about putting a toe tag on him.
30
Simone
Riding in the back of a stretch limo, Veer watches me from across the seat. His hair is disheveled, but still shining like something out of an eighties movie. The overwhelming smell of sandalwood and cigar smoke smothering my senses.
“How old is she?” Veer tries to make small talk as if he just didn’t take me away from my kid. As if he didn’t aim his gun at her and try and kiss her with a bullet of death.
“Don’t. Don’t you ever bring her up,” I snap. Vindication coloring my voice. His shoulders lift as he swipes at his slacks as if he has crumbs on them. Rolling my nails into my palm. I seek for a form of pain to release my rolling emotions.
“One thing you will learn is respect. Your father lacked that tool in raising you, but no fret.” His snake eyes snap to mine and I hold my breath, my throat feeling like sandpaper when I swallow. “You will learn it.”
Sliding into the seat next to me like a slick cobra, he grips my hand. His touch cold and unfriendly just like a serpent. He squeezes my knuckles together, my fingers popping from the harshness. My mouth parts with pain as I pry his white knuckles one by one from my sore fingers, his eyes never leaving the side of my head as he conveys just how determined he is to make me obey him.
Feeling trapped by his closeness, I shuffle closer to the door and gaze out the window with tear-filled eyes. My lungs burn with the urge to ugly cry, my cheeks burning with remorse and regret. My heart sinks as we drive farther and farther away from my whole world.
My only escape from this man is the blanket of darkness my eyelids have to bring. Leaning my head against the cool glass, taking a shaky breath I close my eyes. The breath of the cobra sitting across from me keeping me on edge, it takes me forever to fall asleep.
The crunch of gravel under the car’s tires has me stirring in my seat. My neck aches and my legs are stiff from being bunched up for so long.
The smell of cigar smoke reminds me where I am, and who I’m with. I bolt upright. Veer’s smug smile greeting me while a cigar dangles in his left hand; his legs casually crossed. Mac would never cross his legs. A roiling heat in my stomach sparks, reminding me just how much I hate Veer’s face. I look out the window needing anything else to look at and I notice it’s daylight, we’ve been driving all night. I’ve been away from Catori all night.
Worry snakes itself around my heart, and I nibble on my bottom lip thinking if anyone has found her or fed her. She needs a diaper change by now, will Mac remember to put the rash cream on her?
“What are you thinking?” Veer’s smug voice cuts right through my worry, and contempt boils back to a full flame.
I ignore him.
Looking out the tinted window, a large mansion made out of white stone approaches. It’s bigger than my parents’. Trees with the greenest leaves I’ve ever seen frame the acreage, and two medium sizes Indians carved out of stone set the pathway to the biggest set of front doors I’ve ever seen.
“This is your home now, Simone. Maids, chefs, a heated pool, fully stocked library, anything you might need you will find it right here. You’ll never have to leave the estate,” Veer brags, and it takes everything I have not to roll my eyes. I’ve had all this before, and call me crazy… but I don’t miss it. I long for the view of tourists walking by, and the feel of being independent. Making my own food and folding my own laundry… it was something nobody could take away from me.
Cigar smoke rolls around my head and I cough, waving it away from me.
I miss the smell of mint and leather, the sound of Mac click-clacking on his keyboard.
Driving into the round driveway, a white man with a black suit waits for the car to stop. A butler it appears.
The car rocks us to a stop, and the man opens my door. Giving Veer a brief glance, I step outside. The fresh warm air making me inhale it in my lungs so deep I almost cough because I forget to exhale.
“Smells better than Vegas, doesn’t it,” Veer rasps from behind me. His cool breath on the back of my neck rancid and reminding me of death. I step away.
“Welcome home, Simone.” A belittling laugh laces through his welcome, and my legs jerk with acute shock. This is real. I’m never going to see Catori or Mac again.
My bottom lip trembles, but I breathe through my sullen emotions and begin the climb up the stairs to the mansion. Every step forced like a baby colt on a lead for the first time, I have to pull and drag myself to move forward. The wild spirit in me not wanting to be tamed or imprisoned.
The large doors creak and scream as they open, the smell of dust and incense inviting us inside the house of riches.
There are immaculate paintings on every wall, covering every inch. It reminds me of the Harry Potter movie that Mac and I watched one night while eating sandwiches. In the movie, the school had paintings on every square inch of the walls, overdoing it surely.
My eyes sweep from the paintings to the gold banister leading to the second story with ivory carpet lining the stairs.
Is that real gold?
The pitter patter of Veer’s expensive shoes causes my throat to close up, forcing a cough to pull from my chest. I turn on the heel of my foot and stare at him dryly.
“I’m tired. I want to go to bed. Where’s my room?” I can’t bite back the bitterness in my tone, the uncontrollable violence I feel toward this man confuses me. I’ve felt a lot of things in my life, but the emotions this man pulls from my chest could be compared to a voodoo doll from the devil. It’s unpredictable and vile.
Veer cracks his neck, his dark lashes framing his ominous eyes like a monster in the night stalking his prey.
“You don’t want to sleep with me?” The sound of his voice sends shivers down my back. Opening my mouth to reply, I shut it quickly as anything I have to say will surely
fuel him toward his natural behavior of something dark.
Noticing my terror, the corner of his mouth tugs into a crooked grin. “I figured we’d sleep in the same room,” he mutters with a softer tone. My brows furrow, if I sleep next to this man… I’ll suffocate him with his goose feathered pillow. I’ve never seen myself as a murderer, but I would bathe in this man’s blood for taking away my daughter.
As if he can read the anger in my eyes, he clears his throat.
“I presume until we say our vows and consummate our marriage on our wedding night, you can sleep in the room across from the master bed.” His left shoulder shrugs. “We will be married very soon though, so don’t get too comfortable.”
“Great, where’s it at?” I ignore his attempt of reminding me of my obligation to be his wife. If I dig deep, when I think about marrying Veer, I see a black widow spinning a web around a male spider, ready to devour his guts.