Even at Your Darkest

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Even at Your Darkest Page 22

by A J Love


  Things are going to be okay.

  As long as whatever plan we put in place goes ahead smoothly.

  “So, why exactly are you going against a man that you were once loyal to? How are we supposed to trust what you're saying isn’t all an elaborate plan?” Trev asks, his eyes hard.

  I settle back on the chair and watch Bez. I want to hear this, as it’s the biggest thought that’s been going through my mind.

  Bez snorts. “I’ve never been loyal to Rick Michaels. I just had a job. He never let me in his big scary gang, I wasn’t inner circle,” he sneers, as if the words leave a bad taste. “I’ve got a woman at home, and three kids. He hired me to be security backstage at the club. Those girls back there are good girls, and I was there to make sure some asshole out front didn’t get any ideas about going back there.”

  “So, what’s changed?”

  This comes from Grip, who’s lost all the humor he normally carries around with him. He’s as serious as Monday fucking morning right now.

  “Layton.” Bez answers, so simply, so finite, that I’d almost be convinced that he was in love with her if it wasn’t for the look in his eye. “She’s innocent. I knew when she first started that she shouldn’t be there. She was shy, a little lost in herself. She reminded me of my eldest daughter. I was shocked when I found out she was McKenna’s friend.”

  “McKenna is the one they killed,” I supply, for everyone. I’d filled them in on what Layton had told me happened, so they knew exactly what they were up against.

  “Yeah,” Bez nods. “And she was out of her mind, wild. I knew what she was doing, blackmailing all those men. Layton wasn’t in that, wasn’t a part of that, but she knew what was happening, so in Rick’s eyes, that’s just as bad.”

  Bez shifts on his seat. “Rick had been watching Layton for a while, I think. He asked me to take her home one night and wanted me to tell her to go by the club the next day. He was closing for the day, wanted to have some one on one time with her.” Rick shrugs. “I wasn’t about to let that happen. I’ve got a little girl her age at home. So instead I told her not to come back, that it wasn’t safe for her. I knew that Rick already had McKenna stashed somewhere, so I told her that too. I’d hoped she would have just left town.”

  “Did you know they were going to attack her?” I ask through gritted teeth.

  He shakes his head. “No. If I had, I’d have dragged her ass out of town myself. No, I didn’t know anything. Like I said, I’m not in their little men’s club. I’m just hired help.” Bez grabs his beer bottle, taking a long drink of it. “They snatched me while I was working one night, kicked my ass good. They knew I’d told her to leave, knew she’d told McKenna to run, knew she was aware of what McKenna and Deke had been doing. I’ll give that psychotic bitch her credit, she didn’t spill on that for a long time, or all of this would have happened a long time ago.”

  “How did they know you’d helped?” Robbie, one of the other brothers asks.

  “Deke. They’d picked him up over the McKenna shit, had him half-dead in the trunk of a car. He’d heard me telling Layton not to come back, and they’d pulled that out of him.” His face pales a little. “The next thing I know, we’re all in that alleyway.”

  He looks at me now, his eyes pleading. “I couldn’t help her. I was in and out, they’d bashed my head in a few times. Mostly I thought I was dying, and I don’t know why I’m not dead. I woke up in a hospital bed, and Michaels was sitting in the corner. He told me I’d shown my strength by not dying, and he expected me to be back at work by the weekend.” He drinks more of his beer. “Fucking asshole. He left the room before I could tell him to shove his job up his ass. When I got home, I cried like a fucking bitch to my woman, and she told me I have to make it right. Here I am.”

  “Why now? Why wait so long?” Dec leans forward, looking at him. “How did you even know she wasn’t dead?”

  Hearing that as even being a possibility sends a sharp ache up my spine. No, I can’t even bear to think about that.

  “I checked on her, saw her coming out of the apartment with you,” he inclines his head towards me. “You were taking care of her. So I went back to the club to try to work out a way I could bring him down. I’m ex-army, so I know how to go unseen. Then last night I heard him telling a couple of his guys that he wasn’t done with her. They’d already, by this point, been out and trashed that store, and were planning worse. He knows she’s pregnant. So here I am. I need to make this right.”

  Trev leans back and releases a harsh breath before looking around at his men and then settling his gaze on Bez. “When is the club closed?”

  “Wednesday,” he answers. “Rick keeps it empty on Wednesday, except for his inside people. There are about fifteen of them usually around the place.”

  “Are you scared to get your hands dirty?” Trev asks, “because I don’t work with pussies.”

  “No,” Bez’s eyes flare fierce. “I’d like to be a part of ending this motherfucker.”

  You and me both, man.

  Trev nods, leaning forward to regard us all. “Okay, this is what we’re going to do.”

  Layton

  He’s too quiet.

  I know whatever plan the guys came up with is happening tonight, but he won’t tell me anything. And honestly, I’m not sure I even want to know. But Kane is brooding, and it’s driving me crazy. He hasn’t spoken much since the store got trashed, hasn’t really done much of anything. I know it’s eating at him, his anger at the whole thing, and I know sooner or later it will have to blow. A small part of me wishes that we’d just run. Ignored Bez when he turned up, and just run like we were planning. But he wouldn’t be happy, and if I was to be really truthful with myself, neither would I. We’ve built a life here, have a small group of friends that are good. We’ve fought for the small amount of light that we have to fight against the dark and the bad. I let my hand wander to the small rounding bump beginning to form on my body. And now we have our miracle to think about.

  Our baby has already endured a horror it will hopefully never have to know about; it survived a nightmare that it never should have experienced. It’s our job now to make sure that the world we bring it into isn’t riddled with threat and worry.

  I seal the bag I’ve been packing, and sit on the bed, pulling out my cell. Kane is in the shower, so I want to take the time to do something I should have done a while back now. I type out a new message, simple and brief, and click my mom’s name. Sent.

  I decided against calling her to tell her she was going to be a grandparent. With everything happening, I don’t think I could take the rejection and abuse from her. But it isn’t right that she doesn’t know. I already told Mellie a few days back on our call, already had the emotional blowout I needed with her. I don’t need anything from my parents; I don’t fucking need them. If all this drama has taught me one thing, it’s that I’m stronger than I think and that no matter what my baby chooses to do with their life, I will be with them one hundred percent.

  Only, I’ll probably steer them well away from being a stripper.

  My cell buzzes, an incoming text. I almost don’t want to read it. Get a grip, Lay. Opening, I prepare myself for the onslaught.

  If you need to come home, come. We are here.

  I type back, I don’t need to. Kane and I are going to raise this baby right.

  Seconds later, another comes in, I’d like to help. I’d like to be your mom again. You’re still my baby, and I’m sorry we hurt you.

  Tears prick the corner of my eyes. I don’t respond, I can’t. I’m both annoyed that it has taken me getting pregnant for her to be a mother, and also humbled that she wants to help me and isn’t going to give me hell over it. I don’t know if I’ll let her back into my life, it's been too long that she’s wanted no part of it, but I hope this means she’ll be less of a bitch when it comes to my little sister. It would be nice to have some of the bad disappear, even just a little bit.

  “Absolutely not.” />
  Kane groans, obviously exasperated with me, but I don’t care. I’m not letting this happen. When he brought me here, I was under the impression that we would both be staying here. I even packed him snacks. Asshole. I’m going to eat his snacks.

  “Layton, I need to be there, and you need to stay here. Nothing is going to happen, I’m not even going inside. They just need someone to drive the van.”

  “The hell you do,” I toss my bag across the room. “Let them deal with this. I need you in one piece. I need you here, with me.”

  He cups my face, presses a hard kiss to my lips. “I’m sorry, baby, but you know I have to go.”

  He leaves then, and angry, I walk up and slam the door shut behind him. Fucking asshole. Why does he have to go there? Why does he have to be a part of this? Why can’t he just let the club handle it, the ones who deal in violence every fucking day? Doesn’t he realize that I’m a fucking mess already with worry that one of them will get hurt because of something they are doing for me? I won’t be able to forgive myself if something happens to him. I don’t even think I’d be able to breathe.

  Why is this happening?

  The door opens, and I ready myself for another round with Kane. I’ll strip naked and cry if I have to. I don’t want him to do this.

  But it’s not Kane, and when I hear the roar of engines, I know that he’s already leaving. My heart sinks, a fresh wave of anxiety causing me to stagger back. Karie rushes to me, lowering me to sit on the bed.

  “Hey now, Lay. You know this isn’t good for the baby.”

  I drop my head onto her stomach. “Why couldn’t he just stay?”

  “Because he has a penis, honey, and it makes them stupid.” She strokes the length of my hair, “come on, now. We girls all band together when the boys go off on one of their rides. It helps with the worry.”

  She takes my hand and lifts me up, leading me out the door. “Plus, a certain somebody told me you have a thing for popsicles.”

  Despite the way my insides are knotted, my mood lightens. “Okay. But I want a red one.”

  Karie laughs and leads me down the corridor and into the lounge area she took me to last time I was here. Pissy, I slump onto a free sofa and wait for my icy. There are a few women in here already, all of them with the same dread in their eyes that I can feel bubbling in my veins. We’re in the same boat. A really shitty boat with no life jackets in sight.

  Karie brings me my popsicle and drops onto the sofa beside me. A few of the others join us, chatting between themselves about insignificant things and ignoring the guns that are scattered on the table. Kane had told me about this on our drive here, had warned me not to be alarmed by it. It’s their way, it's how they protect themselves. The men here, they make sure all the women know how to protect themselves in case anyone who isn’t welcome comes through the doors. But how can I not be alarmed? How can I not look at the harsh metal killer and not feel the sting of how serious all of this is?

  “Grip just checked in,” a woman, folded into the sofa with a pint of ice cream says. “It’s a one.”

  Karie nudges me. “That’s Sadie, Grip’s wife. They have a system. He texts her numbers when they’re out like this, like a code, one every hour. A one means they’ve arrived where they need to be, and everything is going as planned.”

  I nod, listening as she explains the rest of the numbers to me. It’s a good system. Why didn’t Kane and I make a system? We’re not cut out for this life, we don’t want this life.

  The next update that comes in is a two. A two means that things are getting heavy, but everyone is okay. But I’m not okay. My nerves are fried, I have a headache, tension spreading down my neck and I’ve eaten my weight in fucking popsicles. I just want him back.

  Two hours pass. I look to Sadie, who is becoming the only person in this room I want to hear from, but she shakes her head. We haven’t had an update. The wait is agony, the uncertainty of it all is adulterating my blood. I can feel it boiling beneath the surface of my skin, feel the apprehension poisoning my rationality. The vicious spikes of my angst are stifling, the tension tightening my whole body.

  “He can’t always do it, darlin’,” she says, a sad smile on her face. “If they’re busy, his priority has to be having the boy’s backs. They can’t be distracted out there.”

  I nod, trying to understand, but I don’t. And I don’t fucking want to. I stand from the sofa, restless, and begin to pace. My mind is on overdrive, every bad scenario I can bring myself to imagine is flashing through it. When I finally hear the chime of Sadie’s cell I whip my head up, searching her face as she reads. It pales, her eyes rounding out as she slowly looks up to meet my eyes. I don’t need her to say the words, don’t need her read it aloud. I already know.

  It’s a five.

  Men hurt.

  I’m out of the door before she even opens her mouth, rushing down the corridor. I don’t fully register what I’m doing as I pick up a gun that’s lying on the floor by the main doors. I’m someone else entirely as I check it’s loaded and run to Kane’s truck. As always, he’s left the keys in the ignition, so I start her up and fly out of the compound, thankful that the gates have been left open. This only kicks up my anxiety more, as I know that a code five means send fucking help. As I drive away, I just about make Karie out in the rear-view mirror, watching me as the rest of the Rippers scramble to head into battle. But I can’t think about her, or them. I can’t rely on them to ride in and save Kane. They’re Rippers, and they will look after their own first. We’re not them, we’re outside of them. So, all I know is men are hurt, and one of those men might be mine. I’m not going to sit around waiting to see if it is, I’m going to go find out for my damn self. I’m going to find him, and I’m going to bring him home.

  I drive with a silent fury I’ve never experienced before, but I let the craze of the fire fuel me as I make my way to the club I never wanted to see again.

  In town, I ditch the truck a block away, and grab the gun I tossed on the bench. My grandad taught me how to handle a gun, once upon a time, but I was never really any good at it. I didn’t like to touch them, didn’t like what they could do to people. And yet, I click off the safety and climb from the truck, knowing full well that I won’t hesitate to use it to protect what’s mine.

  I take the streets quietly, moving through the shadows in the direction of the side door to the club. I favored this door when I was working here because it led out to an alleyway and I could avoid seeing the customers out front. Never did I think it would prove useful for anything like this.

  I’m just around the corner when I hear his voice, my heart hammering in my chest. He’s half-shouting for someone to hurry, and to shut the hell up. I can’t let him get away. The red licks of my anger burn, rolling through me with the intensity of lava. I let it flow, let it rush me and overtake me as I step into view.

  It’s Vinny who sees me first, his eyes widening on his blood-spattered face. I ignore him, putting my focus on Rick as he turns slowly to face me. For an instant, for a single fraction of a second, I see his fear, until it douses into something else, something false.

  But I saw it.

  “Layton,” he starts, a smirk insulting me.

  I don’t let him say anything else. I raise the gun, walking forward, and completely overpowered by the roaring vortex of hate thundering inside me, I pull the trigger. Once, twice, again and again, until it won’t fire any more. He falls, crumbling into a heap on the floor. I lower the gun, sucking in blood-soaked air.

  “What did you do?” I look up to see Vinny. He’s pointing his gun at me, his hand shaking. “Why didn’t you just run?”

  “He wasn’t going to let me go,” I answer, my voice calmer as the fury in me lightens.

  He’s dead. I killed my nightmare.

  “Fuck,” Vinny curses, rubbing a hand over his face. “Fuck, Layton.”

  He steadies himself, straightening his arm and aims right at me. “I don’t want to do this.”
<
br />   The side door slams open, the echo of it rattling my overworked brain.

  He’s here. I feel him, rather than see him, and a warped sense of calm comes over me. He’s okay. I watch him as he all but falls out of the door with Trev and notices me, notices the gun pointed at me. I see his lips moving, see him take desperate steps toward me. I’m sure he’s shouting, but I can’t hear anything. Now I can only feel. I offer him a smile, close my eyes and listen to the sound of the gun firing.

  Kane

  My hand grips the top of the gravestone, the words I need to say strangling my throat.

  This is harder than I could have ever imagined it to be.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you from him. I’m sorry I let him turn you into what you became. I never meant for it to happen; it wasn’t in our plan.” I crouch down, rubbing my thumb along the embellished name. “I wanted better for you.”

  Her hand touches my arm, the warmth of it cutting through all of the bad. I turn to face her, to breathe her in as she crouches beside me and wipes away the tears for my brother. “I think he’d be proud of you,” she says, in the soft way she has. “I know I am.”

  As I stand with her, I pull her close to me. I almost lost her too, a couple of days ago. When I saw her in that alleyway, her features soft with resignation, I thought my heart was about to explode. I couldn’t get my feet to move faster, couldn’t get through to her. And when I heard the gun fire, saw her jolt back, I thought she’d been hit. It was Trev who fired the shot, hitting right between the eyes of the man trying to kill my girl. The whole night had been a shitstorm, almost from the get go. We got hurt and then some, and the asshole almost got away. I’d seen him from the window trying to escape and had taken off after him with Trev following me. Hearing the gun shots, all of them, we moved faster out of fear it was one of ours. And then there she was, the gun still in her hand.

 

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