by Addison Jane
I gasped, I didn’t think he knew.
“You think I’m stupid? You think I couldn’t figure out the times and dates didn’t match up. I thought by marrying you that it would prove my commitment. Show you that I didn’t care and would accept you and the kid anyway, but all you did was throw it in my fucking face,” he roared, and I squashed myself back against the wall, hoping by some miracle that I could sink back inside it.
He reached inside his suit jacket, and I struggled to breathe as he pulled out the gun he had used earlier. My knees were weak, and I was fighting a losing battle as I tried to stop myself from crumbling to the ground.
“I’m a businessman, Annabelle. People look up to me. They see greatness, and yet you are my weakness. A man like me can’t have a weakness.” He tapped the gun against the wall beside my head. “You are either with me… or right now is where I break our connection forever. I won’t let you bring me down again, won’t let you make me look stupid.” He twisted the gun so the barrel was pressed against my temple and tears began to fall down my cheeks.
Peter had lost it. There was no getting through to him, no reasoning with him. Maybe I had driven him over the edge? He had seemed so respectful and genuine to begin with, always a gentleman and forever reminding me that he would be there for me despite my condition.
Then the drugs had started, and it was like he’d lost his mind.
“I—”
Ding dong.
Peter’s head flicked to the side, clearly annoyed at the interruption. I stayed pinned to the wall, even as he took a step back and waved the gun in front of me. “Don’t move.”
I could see part of the door from where I stood. He walked over and pulled it open. “What do you want, Ruby?” he asked harshly as a small blonde girl stepped inside. Even though she had her back to me I could tell she was only young.
“He won’t give me anything. I need you,” her soft voice pleaded. Her hands hung at her sides, both of them shaking profusely. She had a tattoo on the back of one, it looked like writing, elegant and cursive, but I couldn’t make out what it said.
“I told you not to come here,” Peter threw back.
I needed to get out of here.
He shoved her toward the door, but she fought back. Their voices becoming low angry whispers. I knew this house, I could get out while he was distracted, but first I had to force my body to move.
Wrench. If I could get to him I’d be okay.
I kept the image of Wrench in my mind. He was standing beside me, he wasn’t touching me but he was there.
Fight back, damn it.
Get the hell out.
I took one slow step, and then another. There was a back passage that led from this small sitting room and into the kitchen. I headed for it, freezing as I reached the doorway. There was no light inside, it was long and dark. I was scared, once the shadows got a hold of me, would I be able to go any further. This room, it was light, big windows allowed the sun to shine in.
I looked over at them. They were open, just slightly, just enough to fit my body through.
I changed my path and stumbled toward the window. I could still hear Peter and the young girl arguing at the front door which spurred me on. My shaking hands clutched the window frame and I lifted my leg, slipping it through the gap.
I could do this. If I didn’t, who knew what Peter would do to keep me here. His delusions of us being together made him sound crazy.
He was fucking crazy.
I slipped half my body through the space, holding onto the frame as I hefted my other leg out and hung there for a moment, taking a deep breath as I prepared to drop myself into the garden below.
The window was around the side of the house, safe from the view of the front porch, but I was scared the noise would alert him. Then I heard him yell, and in that moment I let go, dropping down into the bushes under the cover of his voice. I lay there for a moment, not sure what to do next.
Where could I go?
Where could I run to?
I had no phone, no way of contacting anyone to come for me.
Fuck! I could barely move, my breathing becoming heavier and heavier as I fought to keep myself awake and alert.
Just run.
I fought against my brain, even though every part of it screamed at me to cower. On shaking hands and knees I crawled through the bushes, I could feel sharp sticks poking at my skin, but I felt no pain. Survival mode had kicked in, and I needed to make it through this, just like every other episode I had. It was hard for me to think that I wasn’t crazy, that this would eventually end, but I held onto that anyway.
The limo sat in the driveway empty. I couldn’t see the driver around, so I scurried across the lawn and ducked down behind it. Two deep breaths and then I took off, just as the door to the house slammed shut behind me. I stumbled as I got to the footpath, catching myself before I fell and then powering forward again. Tears streaked down my cheeks as I ran, hiding my face as cars passed by, probably looking at me like I was a crazed lunatic.
Nothing new there.
I knew Peter would come looking, so I took a side street.
My legs were weak, and I struggled to breathe through the torrent of tears that streaked down my face. Turning down another street, there were just houses and houses, and I wasn’t sure what to do.
Knock on a door?
Hope that they would let me use their phone and not call the police.
I tried to search my mind. I used to live here. I should know my way out, but my head was clouded with haze, and the noise was begging to fill my ears. My feet began to drag and I stumbled, landing hard on the concrete.
A car sped past me, and I heard breaks screech to a stop.
“No,” I shook my head, trying to climb back to my feet. I was on someone’s lawn… if I could just make it to the door.
“Annabelle!”
“No,” I cried out, digging my fingers into the grass, trying to pull myself away from the road.
A hand touched my shoulder, and I screamed, turning and lashing out.
“Hey!” Eric jumped back, his eyes wide as he held his hands up in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to know if you’re okay.”
Safety. Eric, he was safety.
“I need …n-need to go,” I stammered. “Peter…”
His brow creased in the center and he held out his hand to me. I cringed away. I didn’t want to be touched.
“Okay, okay,” he said, scrubbing at his face. “Can you get in the car?”
I looked over at the road, his car was parked by the curb. If I could make it there, I would be safe.
I nodded.
Just get to the car.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to my feet. Eric stood beside me as I took one step after another toward his car. He pulled the door open, holding it as I dropped my body inside, the cool leather seats feeling like heaven against my hot skin.
He rushed around and got in the driver’s side.
“Need to call Wrench,” I managed to force out as he pulled away and made his way down the road.
“You can call from my house,” he said calmly, his eyes flicking from the road to me and then back again. “It’ll be okay.”
There were those words, the ones I hated to hear, the ones that made me feel like my emotions and my breakdowns were invalid. But I ignored it.
I was safe now. And soon Wrench would be here.
After loading Slider’s body into the hearse, I looked around, searching for Sugar. My chest was aching, and all I wanted to do was feel her there with me. Spotting Harlyn, I ducked through the crowd and crouched down beside her. She automatically reached out for me, and I picked her up in my arms.
“Have you seen your mom?” I asked as I cradled her against my side.
She shook her head. I could tell today had been hard for her, her eyes constantly scanning the crowd as though she hadn’t been aware of just how many brothers there were. They’d come from every
where to pay their respects, and Harlyn was in complete awe.
“I saw her a few minutes ago, but she seems to be gone now,” Chelsea said, moving in beside me.
I knew Sugar had wanted to hang back and give us all our space. She wanted me to spend time with my brothers, be there for them, and feel the support they shared. I knew she felt out of place, she felt like eyes were constantly on her, judging her for what she’d done. And she and Optimus had still barely spoken a word between them. But now she’d disappeared, and in my gut I felt a pinch, telling me there was something wrong.
The boys were already on their bikes, having said goodbye to their women. We would head to the cemetery and help to bury our brother, while the women and visitors went to the clubhouse to prepare for the service that would follow. There’d be a lot of drinking, partying and celebration.
We all knew that once the funeral was done, there was to be no more grieving for our brother’s life. Once we’d said our goodbyes, the only thing left to do was celebrate Slider’s existence.
I frowned, handing Harlyn over to Chelsea as I watched my brothers head to their bikes. “If you see her, can you tell her I’m looking for her?”
Chelsea nodded with a soft smile. “I’ll take Harlyn with me back to the clubhouse. Maybe she’s already there.”
I appreciated her trying to ease my concerns, but I knew she wasn’t.
I knew it in my gut.
We all climbed on our bikes. The mighty roar of our engines together like a musical number, a chorus of revving and rumbling, each bike with its own distinctive sound that set it apart from the others, but that when together created a perfect harmony. As the hearse passed by us, we pulled out onto the street, one after another. We were a line of protection for our brother, supporting him as he traveled to his final resting place, vowing never to leave him behind or forgotten.
My skin was dirty and dusty when we arrived back at the clubhouse. We’d taken turns shoveling the dirt into Slider’s grave, burying him slowly as we remembered the things about him that had made our club whole. That was how we remembered the fallen. Unfortunately, we’d had a lot of practice at it.
The party was already in full swing, the music filling my ears as the boys and I shut off our bikes. We all headed straight for the bar, I needed a drink. I would down just one before I went in search of Sugar. Looking around the room, I couldn’t see her. Maybe she’d gone home, feeling too awkward around the clubhouse.
“Hey Wrench,” Ham said as I settled on a barstool. He passed a piece of paper over to me. “Someone called for you. They left this number. Said it was urgent.”
I frowned, looking down at the piece of paper, not recognizing the number written there.
Op was staring at me when I looked up, maybe he was also aware that Sugar wasn’t around.
I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed as I headed for the hallway to the meeting room. I needed a quiet space. It rang a couple of times before a deep male voice picked up.
“Eric Deanwell speaking,” the gruff voice answered.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up instantly, and I had to stop myself from losing my shit at him right then and there. “Want to tell me why the hell you’re calling the clubhouse looking for me?” I hissed. Given that I couldn’t find Sugar either, I was ready to tear this asshole to pieces.
I heard him scoff. “You’re a lot more polite when I see you in court.”
“Trust me, that’s for my benefit, not yours. What do you want?”
He didn’t speak for a moment, and I was ready to hang up. “Annabelle is here. Something has happened, and she’s asking that you come get her,” he explained, a tightness in his tone.
The asshole didn’t like me, and the feeling was mutual. He’d faced me and more of my brothers in court than any other fucking lawyer in the state. I didn’t want to be his friend.
“What is she doing with you?” I snapped.
He sighed dramatically, and if I could have reached through the phone and wrapped my fingers around his throat, I fucking would have. “Just come get her. I’ll text you my address.”
The line went dead, and I slammed my fist into the nearest wall. It just happened to be the fist still holding my cell phone, and I felt the glass crunch beneath my fingers.
“You gonna tell me what’s going on?”
I looked over my shoulder to see Optimus leaning against the wall, watching me. His body was tight like he was ready for me to fight back, or at least ready for me to blow him off so he could punch me in the face again.
I hated keeping this crap from him.
He’d been like a brother to me for so long now that it didn’t even feel like he was my leader. He was just family, that’s all there was to it.
When my sister and her boyfriend were struggling to pay their rent, he offered up one of the apartments the club owned in town, just to help them get by. He did it without even a second thought because to him, if I cared about them, so did he.
He’d got me through jail time by visiting me whenever he could, sometimes once a week, sometimes once a month, but it kept me sane.
I hung my head. “Man, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“How about at the beginning?” he offered, walking toward me.
“It’s—”
“Not your story to tell. I get that shit,” he cut in, coming to a stop in front of me and folding his arms across his chest. “But what happens when that story has a tragic ending. One that we could have prevented together, then will you regret not telling it?”
I pounded my fist against the wall again. “She’s trying to keep you out of it. She’s scared that if you get involved that she’ll drag you down. It’s why she gave up Har. The fewer things that can be used against her… the better.”
He nodded. “I understand what it’s like to want to push people away, so they don’t get hurt, but you remember what happened don’t you?”
I cringed, the memories of seeing Chelsea broken and battered in her hospital bed, not knowing if she would wake up, or whether her brain had suffered too many injuries. We’d almost lost her, all because Optimus had spent too long trying to drive her away and instead found herself in the middle of a fucking war.
Optimus was right, Sugar couldn’t go at this alone. I knew she harbored guilt and fear that the club would somehow pay for mistakes she’d made, but what she needed to understand was that there wasn’t a day that went by where I wouldn’t take my brothers problems on my shoulders if it meant he would have less to carry.
What was the point of being a part of the club if you couldn’t rely on them to stand beside you in your time of need?
I sighed. “Let me go get her. Just enjoy the night with the boys here, and we can talk tomorrow.”
He nodded, falling into step with me as I head back down the hallway. “Where is she?”
I halted in the doorway to the main room where people were dancing and joking with each other. “Promise not to punch me in the face?”
“No,” he said sternly, narrowing his eyes.
“She’s at Eric Deanwell’s house.” I flinched back, expecting the rage to come from him but he didn’t move.
“Eric Deanwell?”
“The one and only.”
He shook his head. “Go, and fucking get her,” he said, his voice a mixture of shock and disappointment. “You’re right, we’ll deal with this shit tomorrow because right now, I need to get so drunk that I forget what you just told me, and don’t come with you and beat the fucking shit out of him.”
“Noted,” I commented, shooting him a quick salute and ducking through bodies as I headed for the door.
The ride was quick, and I was thankful for the fact that asshole Deanwell lived in town. All I wanted to do was get to my woman and figure out what the hell had happened.
Pulling up in the fancy suburb made my skin crawl. It wasn’t a wonder why Sugar was so desperate to escape this kind of place. I could already see people pe
eking out their curtains, I could imagine with their fingers on the ready to hit 911 as I strolled up the path.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I murmured as I eyed the two oversize front doors that were made out of heavy wood. They looked like they could keep out a fucking tank.
Overcompensating much?
I even laughed as spotted the door knobs—fucking gold, of course.
Probably goddamn real gold, most likely paid for by the club with the amount of business we’d handed him.
I shook my head as I slammed my fist against the door.
All I wanted was to get Sugar and get the hell out of this place.
I didn’t belong here, and neither did she.
I sat on Eric’s porch, looking out over his backyard. With the threat of Peter gone and the open space and light, my heart slowly began to slow. Sometimes it would take hours to come down from something so stressful, other times I just needed the right environment in order to get my head straight. That, and the fact that I knew Wrench was on his way.
Eric had finally gotten in touch with him, and I knew it wouldn’t be long until he was here. While I was able to slowly begin to calm my body, this was less about being able to get outside my own mind and more about just needing him to feel safe again.
A door opened behind me, and my body jumped.
“Sorry,” Eric said soothingly. He smiled softly as he came around to stand in front of me. “How you feeling?”
I cleared my throat, leaning back in the comfort of the porch swing as it slowly moved back and forth. “Better.”
He nodded while taking a seat on a chair close by and following my gaze out into the backyard. It was quite beautiful, the flowers neatly pruned and the bushes trimmed back. Small grass pathways weaved in and out through different parts of the garden, and I tried to imagine how the soft grass would feel under my feet. There were no walls out here, no shadows closing in on me, driving me into a corner.
“Lisa used to like gardening,” he said out of nowhere, drawing my attention to him. His eyes stayed focused out on the lush beauty. “I hated seeing them die and become overgrown when she disappeared so I hired someone to come and do them, so they would still be here…” he paused, his eyes flickered with emotion, “… just in case she ever came back.”