BIKER DADDY_The Chain Gang MC

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BIKER DADDY_The Chain Gang MC Page 38

by Claire St. Rose


  Musa was livid. Micah Whitfield look like a gentleman, but he was no more that than a dog could be a man. He had come into Musa’s home and spouted nonsense about being in love with his daughter, only to have it revealed that he had already deflowered her. Musa wouldn’t abide it. Zoya tried to speak again. Musa shook his head viciously, pointing a finger at the girl standing in the center of the main room of the Rao house. “No,” he spat.

  “Maman,” Zoya turned to her mother, who had materialized back at the kitchen archway at the sound of the scuffle between Miad and Micah.

  Taba, too, couldn’t seem to hold her gaze. The diminutive housewife studied the floor, wringing her hands, refusing to talk for fear of what angry words would fly past her lips. Taba had always had the hardest time bridling her tongue. She had suspected, nearly known, her daughter was out defiling herself. A man like Micah Whitfield wouldn’t have gotten up the courage to come to their door if he hadn’t at some point sampled Zoya’s now tarnished goods. Taba ground her teeth, suffering in silence, her expectations and hopes dashed. Her daughter would never get a fine husband after this.

  Zoya’s bitter hazel eyes flew to Miad, the culprit in this. While her parents glowered at her like she was vile, her brother was openly drinking from his flask, leering at her with a smug grin. Miad was back sprawled out on the living room couch with his shirt half open, a scruffy beard covering his handsome face, his dark brown eyes beady with malice. His hand shook as he lifted the silver canteen to his lips and gulped the whiskey down. He gestured to her with the hand holding the flask. “You should have listened to me,” Miad slurred.

  “I have half a mind to put you out of this house myself,” Musa growled to Zoya. “But, that would only give you license to run back into the arms of your filthy lover. I will not condone it! I will not abide it! Not of my child.”

  “Baba, I love him!” Zoya shouted. “Tell me the wrong in a love that is sincere and all-encompassing, a love that would sacrifice so much and break so many boundaries just to flourish. You can lock me away in this house. You can send Micah away, but you can never take away the love that I have for him in my heart.”

  She fled the room. She couldn’t stand beneath their accusing looks any longer. Zoya pushed past her mother and through the archway of the living room. She raced down the hall to her bedroom. As she ran, tears cascaded down her face and sobs were torn from her chest. She couldn’t understand them, and it was clear they were making no attempts to understand her. Zoya pushed open her bedroom door and slammed it shut behind her, marching to her bed and throwing herself down to the mattress.

  She sniffed, eyes blinded by sorrow, and she tried to stop crying. Over and over the scene replayed in her head. Micah had been so respectful. He had pleaded his case so eloquently, merely asking them to give him a chance to show he would be a good husband to Zoya. She had given up any hope of having him as her husband, so she hadn’t even broached the idea to her parents after the fall-out. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined he would show up at her house and ask her parents outright for her hand in marriage, but he had.

  The interminable future lie ahead of her, a future in which he couldn’t take part. It was the hardest thing that Zoya had ever had to encounter. She had endured the month of separation the first time when she had stayed away from Micah, trying to follow Miad’s orders. She had almost been torn apart by missing him when her parents had confined her to their house in another attempt to keep the lovers separate. But, the prospect of never seeing him again, the prospect of Micah giving up after her family’s rude denial of the offer for marriage, made Zoya’s throat constrict and her lungs wheeze for air.

  He had said he would come back for her, but she didn’t know how he’d possibly pull that off. She cried loudly and with abandon, pouring her sorrow into her pillows. Her body felt battered. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably, as she doubled over in the bed and wrapped her arms around herself. And then she abruptly stopped.

  Because she was fed up with it. Callie had been right. Zoya couldn’t let them dictate her life. The resentment that was already building up within was evidence that her parents, though well-intentioned, were potentially severing any chances of a relationship with their daughter. Micah’s only error had been in asking for permission. Sniffling, Zoya reached for her cellphone on the nightstand and began to dial his number. Permission hadn’t been granted. Her parents would just have to forgive her, instead.

  “Zoya?” He answered in a rush, like he hadn’t expected her to call.

  “Micah, I need you to meet me at the supermarket a few blocks away from my parents’ house. I’m getting out of here. I can’t be without you.”

  “Darling, I miss you just as much. There’s no point in making them more upset tonight, though, and I don’t want you to be in any danger. Your father looked like he was ready to kill me when Miad said—Let’s give them a chance to calm down and get comfortable with the idea of what’s done is done.”

  “You don’t understand, Micah! They’ll never be comfortable with the idea. My father intends that I never see you again. I’m not giving up, and you shouldn’t give up. Don’t you see? This is the only way! I’m leaving in a half hour. I have to pack a bag. Just be there.”

  She hung up the phone before he had time to protest further, knowing instinctively that Micah wouldn’t let her down regardless of his qualms. He’d be at the supermarket. Zoya pushed up off the bed and yanked a carry-on bag out of the top of her closet, stuffing a few articles of clothing within. She still had belongings at the apartment she had shared with Callie prior to her Maman forcing her to come back to live in the family home. Zoya planned to retrieve those things as well.

  She’d move back in with Callie or move in with Micah, but she wasn’t staying here. There was no way she could allow her parents to rule over another minute of her life. Meanwhile, while they browbeat her over dating Micah, their only son was deteriorating more and more right before their very eyes. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her.

  Miad burst into her room as she was packing. “Where are you going?” he spat. “You’re not to leave the house.”

  “Leave me alone, Miad. You have no more control over me. You can’t even control yourself!”

  He yanked at her arm. “Come here.”

  Zoya yelped at the squeezing pain of his grip. “Let me go!”

  She tried to pull away from her brother, but she wasn’t as strong as Miad. He dragged her out of her room with Zoya literally kicking and screaming. “I heard you on the phone,” he growled. “You want to meet that cur, I’ll take you to him myself. We have no more use for you in this family. You refuse to see the light, then dwell in darkness!”

  “Miad!” Musa yelled.

  “She will learn!” Miad cried out savagely, as he pulled her resistant body through the living room and out the front door. Gravel kicked up beneath her shuffling feet, and Zoya jerked and twisted. Still, Miad held fast. He pulled open the car door in the backseat and shoved her inside. Miad swiftly hit the child safety lock and slammed the door, blocking her from climbing back out. He stumbled over to the other side and did the same. Zoya was trying to climb out through the space between the driver’s and passenger’s seats to get away. Miad climbed into the driver’s seat and elbowed her back.

  Zoya screamed, “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

  He had been drinking. She had no desire to ride anywhere with a drunk driver. Even if Miad had no concern for his own life, Zoya had reasons to live. She threw her body forward and reached for the keys, but he dangled them beyond her grasp with a nasty laugh. “You say we don’t support you and we try to control you? Well, which one is it, Zoya? I’m only trying to give you what you asked now, and yet you still fight me,” he ground out.

  The smell of liquor roiled off him in waves. Zoya slumped back, tears streaming down her face. She stared wildly back at the house where her mother had run out behind them, but Musa was pulling her back inside. If she kne
w her father, he was probably warning Taba not to cause a scene. Musa would be appalled if their wealthy neighbors witnessed the family squabble.

  It was dusk, and the streetlights were popping on along the tree-lined avenue. The houses of the neighborhood were well-kept and nice cars crowded the driveways. It was a picturesque, dreamy twilight setting, at odds with the scene taking place in the Rao yard.

  Zoya gasped for air, wondering at which point her life had become such a nightmare. “Fine, Miad, fine!” she exploded. “Take me to the supermarket to meet Micah. He’ll be there shortly and take me off of all of your hands for good. I say goodbye and good riddance!”

  Miad jammed the key in the ignition and shot backwards out of the driveway at alarming speeds. Zoya was slung to the side and scrambled into her seatbelt, gripped by panic. He was really doing it. Her heart hammered beneath her chest as the car struggled to remain on the right side of the road. Her brother’s driving was erratic and far too fast for safety. Trees were a shadowy blur.

  He careened through a curve and bounced over a dip in the road, darting into the stream of traffic on the main highway, as she clung on for dear life. The vehicle narrowly missed clipping another car. Horns honked. “You’ll kill us both!” she protested to no avail.

  “You’re already dead to me, Zoya! I showed you nothing but love and respect, k-kindness and consideration. I wanted nothing…nothing but the best for you,” he sputtered the words in a drunken stammer. He slammed on brakes as the truck in front of him eased to a halt at a red light. Miad whipped around the truck and powered onward, blithely ignoring the traffic signal. A car with the right-of-way screeched and squealed, fishtailing to avoid colliding with them, and Zoya screamed in terror.

  “Why are you doing this to me?!” she shouted.

  He shouted back mockingly, “Why are you doing this to me? Why are you doing this to me, Zoya?”

  “I’m not doing anything to you, brother, please!” She changed her tone, realizing her anger and fear were only driving his outrage. She leaned forward with tears streaming down her face and told him sincerely, “I love you with all my heart, Miad. I always looked up to you. I know that you’ve been going through some troubles, and I only wanted to get you some help. But, this situation with me and Micah has nothing to do with you. I’m not trying to defy you or Maman and Baba. I just want to live!”

  “You selfish girl, when will you learn?” he sounded incredulous. “Look at me, Zoya. No one is perfect, but we all have a role we have to play. I play mine. You were supposed to play yours. All you had to do…all you had to do was marry Javid.”

  Zoya shook her head in confusion. She didn’t understand. “Miad, I couldn’t marry Javid. I didn’t love Javid.”

  “I said play your role!” he shouted furiously.

  The wheel jerked in his rage. Zoya yelled, “Look out!” The Camaro swerved into oncoming traffic, and a semi-truck barreled towards them. He pulled back into his lane dangerously slowly. Zoya sobbed in horror. “Do you intend to kill me?”

  They were driving past the supermarket. She realized too late Miad had never had any intention of taking her to Micah. He was on a death mission. “I told you. You’re dead to me,” he said with menacing calm.

  “Please don’t,” she pleaded.

  “Had you married the doctor, all of my problems would have been handled.”

  “What problems, Miad? I’ll try to help you any way I can. Just, please, please take me home! We don’t have to meet Micah.” Zoya dashed the tears from her face to try to see the road clearly. It was dark, and she was scared if she looked away, she wouldn’t even get to see her last minutes. Sniffling and trying to compose herself, she struggled to talk some sense into her truculent sibling, but Miad wouldn’t hear her.

  He waved away her plaintive cries to turn around. Ahead, a single headlight speared through the darkening evening traveling toward them, and he let out a chuckle at his good fortune. “Lady Luck, you’re too kind. Shut up, fool girl. There’s hope yet. I’ll see to it that you do as you need to do. There might still be time for you to marry Javid so he can cancel the debt I owe him. Let’s make sure that bastard, Micah, finally learns what ‘stay the fuck away’ means.” He gunned the accelerator and sped toward the approaching motorcycle. He eased into the oncoming lane, still traveling at full speed. The muscle car’s engine growled and roared and the wheels gripped the road as he pressed onward.

  Zoya gasped in shock as she realized what he was trying to do. It was Micah. “No! No, I won’t let you do it!” Mustering her courage, Zoya flung herself at her brother, tearing at his arms. “Get back on the other side, Miad! This isn’t a game! You’ll kill him!”

  “Better him than me!” Miad fought her off, losing control of the wheel in the process. She saw the motorcycle speed past them, but the Camaro continue its headlong rush. Zoya saw her life flash before her eyes, the good and the bad. There was the squeal of tires as the car tried to stay on the road, but the vehicle slid off the asphalt and the dewy evening grass whistled slickly beneath the wheels.

  The car jounced down the steep incline of the shoulder of the roadway toward the thick tree line, and she let out a terrified scream, flinging her arms up in front of her face. The Camaro plowed into the trees with a sickening crunch and scrape of metal, glass shattering. It was the loudest, most horrific sound she had ever heard in her life. The force of impact threw her hard against the back seat, hard enough for the blow to knock the wind out of her and momentarily knock her unconscious.

  She would have been thrown about like a rag doll if not for her seatbelt. Miad was not so lucky. He wasn’t wearing one.

  With a painful sharp inhale, Zoya opened her eyes, wincing at the pain in her head and neck. “Miad?” she cried out, unbuckling her seatbelt and painfully pushing forward. Her brother was no longer in the driver’s seat and the windshield was completely shattered. She looked ahead in sheer horror to see his crumpled, blood-stained body in a heap on the hood of the white car. Smoke hissed around him, and he was unmoving, not making a sound.

  Sobbing and shaking her head, Zoya crawled over the shards of glass, not caring that her hands and knees were getting torn to shreds. She couldn’t get either of the front doors open. The car was battered and smashed like an aluminum can. She had to climb out through the busted window, across more glass and the steaming hot hood. Oblivious to her own pain, Zoya fought her way to her brother.

  “Miad, wake up!” she cried.

  A car door slammed at the edge of the road. Zoya looked up in a panic to see strangers rushing to her aid. “He’s not breathing,” she whimpered. She covered her mouth to keep the helpless sobs down. Someone dragged her from the top of the car. Then, Zoya heard a familiar voice, as more men clambered down the hillside to the wrecked Camaro.

  “Zoya!”

  Micah pushed past the people gathered around the wreckage. He had been right behind Miad, had seen the madman try to run the other motorcyclist off the road. Miad hadn’t realized Micah had shown up to the Rao house in his Pontiac instead of on his bike. When Zoya had called for him to come pick her up from the supermarket, he was only a few blocks away from the house. Micah had pulled over at the meeting point to wait for her, but he had seen Miad’s car speed past, and he had seen Zoya in the back seat.

  Micah had called the police and pursued the white Camaro in the hopes that once Miad stopped, he could get Zoya out of the car. But, Miad hadn’t stopped. He had crashed. Micah’s heart plummeted to his feet as he surveyed the damage. Zoya was covered in blood when he pulled her into his arms.

  “It’s all my fault, Micah. It’s all my fault!” She cried inconsolably.

  Micah shushed her and gently set her aside to see what he could do for Miad. The rest of the gawking strangers were standing around, shaking their heads, but no one seemed to have hope for the other passenger of the wrecked car. Micah moved forward and quickly assessed things. He knew cars. He knew engines. This one was likely to blow. “Everyone move b
ack. Get back! There’s a chance of an explosion.”

  His shouted orders galvanized the crowd to back away from the car, and Micah reached up to try to pull Miad away. At that moment, the younger Rao groggily turned his head and weakly pushed Micah away. “Get…away, swine.”

  “Miad, there’s no time for this. Now let me help you!”

  “Miad, do as he says!” Zoya cried out. Micah glanced back. She was too close. He gestured for her to back away. Someone from the crowd of onlookers grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

  Micah turned back to Miad. “Can you move? You’ll have to help me. Ease forward on the car, if you can?”

  Miad shook his head. “I told you, I don’t need your help.”

  “Let me help you!” He heard the ticking, and he knew he was running out of precious time. Micah reached for Miad, but he couldn’t pull the heavy deadweight forward without Miad at least using his elbows to push himself up. He struggled anyway, hoping he could get him free. “Miad, everything that has happened between us has happened for a reason. Not to separate us but to bring us together. Think of Allah’s will, Miad? Would he put us here in this same place at this point in time for me not to help you? Now, please! Come to me.”

 

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