Her Ransom: Royal Bastards MC - Miami, FL

by Addison Jane

  I was the face of this shit.

  I was the one who spoke with the dealers.

  The one who made sure the shipment was picked up at the marina without a problem and distributed.

  I knew who, what, where, and when.

  “I have to be there,” I hissed, shaking my head.

  I knew I had to be there. I needed to make sure this shit fucking went down before we ended up with more members in the hospital like Sketch, and our biggest income producer handed to someone else.

  “No,” Brew answered. “You need to find your fucking girl and let us have your back. I’ll take this one. You just tell me where you need me.”

  I looked around the room.

  Heads were nodding.

  My brothers knowing how fucking important she was, despite half of them not even knowing who she was. This was fucking family. This was where the club came together, where our brotherhood thrived and moved forward. This is where I put my trust in my brothers.

  “Brew, you’re gonna head to the marina with a handful of guys. If Jason Calder has fucked with that window, then we’re going to fucking make one of our own.” I leaned down beside Hatch, bracing my hands on the table and allowing my head to land between them for a second as I sucked in a deep breath. “Everyone else… I’m going to need you to help find her.”

  Looking up, I noticed the way each and every single one of those men in that room sat up straight, their faces serious, listening for what would come next. They had my back. They knew the choice I was about to make. It wasn’t between the club or Sage, it didn’t have to be, because the Royal Bastards MC were fucking one.

  They were there to have my back.

  To carry the load when shit got too heavy.

  That was family.

  That was brotherhood.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” Hatch questioned, shifting to the side so I could take the center of the room.

  Throwing my head back, I pinched my eyes shut, both hands intertwined and resting on the top of my head as I fought to come up with a new plan. “We need a distraction,” I mumbled, speaking out loud as I worked through this shit in my head, trying to ignore the thoughts of Sage and what the fuck an asshole like Arthur could want with her. None of it made any fucking sense.

  “Fireworks.”

  I dropped my chin, my eyes searching for the voice who had just spoken.

  Manic lifted his hand from a seat at the back, and I motioned for him to stand. “I’ve got enough fireworks to light up a small country,” he explained with a smirk. “You need a distraction? That could work?”

  “It could,” Brew agreed, tugging at the bottom of his beard. “We stick those fucking things on a boat and pull it out far enough, light them up, it’s going to pull in the police, marine patrol, the coast guard, and the fucking navy if it’s big enough.”

  “I’ll make it big enough.” Manic chuckled, rubbing his hands together like this was his moment—the one thing he’d been waiting for, the chance to blow something up.

  “Giving us a window,” Hatch noted, following along as his gaze moved between us.

  Brew nodded enthusiastically.

  “I need to call my driver,” I cut in, tapping my foot. “He’ll have to make a straight run for the Marina.”

  “And Brew and the boys will be waiting there, ready to unload, and haul the shit out to a safe place until everything settles down,” Hatch added, looking up at me with a narrowed gaze. “Loose, Manic, Low… you’re with Brew.”

  My hands curled into fists.

  It was hard to let someone else be responsible for my fucking job. I felt like I was letting my brothers down. Felt like I was putting a bitch before them.

  “The rest of us…” Hatch continued. “We’re gonna fucking find your girl.”

  They knew, though. That was the fucking difference. They could see it in me. And they were willing to have my fucking back just because of that. I couldn’t control the way I was drawn to Sage. I couldn’t control the way my body ached, knowing she was out there. Knowing she could be fucking hurt, and I wasn’t there to fucking protect her. What we had, it was new, it was fresh, but I knew it was something more. Something I was desperate to keep a hold of, to explore even more.

  I never expected this.

  And we just hadn’t had enough fucking time to see what exactly it was.

  I needed more time.

  I had a job, a responsibility, and as much as I wanted to simply walk away and go in search of this woman who made my head spin, this wasn’t just about me.

  It was about the club, my family.

  It was about trust.

  I had to trust them to get the job done. And they had to trust that this wasn’t just some crush. Some fucking pussy.

  This was it.

  I could fucking feel it.

  SAGE

  My head throbbed.

  Tears leaked from the corner of my eyes as I blinked, trying to force them open. The pain was almost too much to bear. My head was spinning, a wave of nausea smacking me like a damn bus.

  I heaved, throwing myself forward as the contents of my stomach spilled out onto the rough concrete ground.

  “Let it all out.” A hand smoothed over my back, a familiar voice speaking softly. “Get it all out. Then take these, you’ll feel better.”

  A hand appeared in front of me, a couple of white pills sitting in his palm.

  “Painkillers?” I whispered, pressing my lips closed to stop the flow of vomit as I looked up at the man standing over me. I didn’t know him, but I knew his voice, and it sent a whole new wave of nausea crashing over me.

  I lurched forward again, nothing more than bile and saliva spilling out this time. My head was throbbing.

  He shoved the pills in my face again. “A little stronger than painkillers. I think you’ll need it.”

  “I don’t want them,” I murmured, shoving his hand away. My body swayed, a hard-thumping surging through me, pounding in my head to the beat of my heart before it slowly eased away again. “Dammit,” I cursed, practically stabbing my fingers into my eyes.

  Concussion.

  I knew I had one.

  He’d hit me, full fist, right in the temple. It hadn’t been gentle. It had been destructive. And the last fucking thing I was going to do was to take some pill from his dirty damn hands.

  “Stay the hell away from me,” I slurred as I fought the effects of the blow. “I know what you did.”

  There was a frown come across his face. He was older, his scruffy beard white and curly like Santa Claus or Colonel Sanders. But there were no soft fuzzies from this man. Each time he spoke, it was like a nightmare had a hold of my ankle, and they were dragging me, pulling me back there. I didn’t want to go, I’d spent too long trying to cope with those memories from back then.

  Now I was fucking living it. Again.

  “I rescued you.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” I hissed.

  “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. Technically, we’ve never met.”

  Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to shuffle away from where he was crouched beside me. “Technically, no,” I hissed, my back hitting a wall. “But I will never forget the voice of the man who killed my mother.”

  “Listen—”

  “Listen?” I snapped, the words instantly causing my throat to swell. I looked up at him, my heart stuttering as I fought to stay strong and not look weak. “You hunted her down. You raped her. And then you fucking killed her.”

  The confused look was gone, and he let out a heavy sigh before rolling his hand into a fist and forcing himself to stand. “Your father isn’t a smart man, Sage,” he started with a shrug, as though I hadn’t just accused him of rape and murder as if there was just some strange misunderstanding between us. “I have been bailing him out for as long as I can fucking remember. Watching him fuck things up. Paying his debts to drug dealers. Mobsters. Putting my goddamn name on the line, so he could have a
job, so he could fucking do it all over again a few months later.” He stomped back and forth, huffing and puffing as he spoke. He was fighting to keep his cool, to keep a level head, but it was obvious he was losing it.

  Trying to slow my breathing, I followed his footsteps, listening to him rant while I fought to take in this place I was in.

  A shed?

  A workshop of some kind?

  There were rusty old tools lining the wall behind him, all clinging to the tin-like walls.

  I could use them.

  Get up.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I questioned, trying to get my hands flat on the floor beneath me. I needed to get to my feet and try to clear my head so I could figure out what the hell was going on, then how to get the hell out of there.

  Keep him talking, no matter how much it kills you.

  Just hearing his voice was making me want to break down.

  I wanted to give in and let the nightmares take over, but I couldn’t. This time I couldn’t just sit in silence and watch my life be destroyed. This time I wanted to fight.

  “My name is Arthur Mitchell, and your dad is my nephew,” he explained with an unamused laugh.

  “He doesn’t have any family,” I accused, finally managing to get two feet flat underneath me.

  “Oh, how I wish that were true.” He leaned back against the wooden workbench that was connected to the side of the little shack. “Unfortunately, I promised my brother… your granddad… when he died that I would look after Jason. My brother was always helping him, giving him a leg up, making sure he always got what he wanted. In the end, it made the little shitbag fucking greedy. Spoiled. Entitled.”

  I finally stumbled to my feet, my legs shaking, and my body swaying for a second.

  Arthur reached out for me, I held up my hand. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

  This icy look washed over his face as if he was maybe offended. “Everything I fucking did for him was for you, too. To make sure you were safe. To make sure you didn’t get swept up in his shitstorm.”

  My laughter echoed in the small space. “Oh, I’m sorry… when did you grow that conscience? Before or after you murdered my mother?”

  His casual, easy-going attitude was gone.

  He rushed at me, shoving me back against the wall and forcing the air from my lungs. I tried to suck in a desperate breath as he got right in my face, his nose almost brushing mine.

  “You’re just like her,” he spat, reaching up and curling his hand around my throat. His fingers dug in painfully, slowly cutting off my air supply.

  I dug at his hand with my fingernails, kicking my legs out.

  “It was meant to be a warning. She was threatening to leave with you. Jason just wanted to scare her. She could have walked away that night. I gave her the fucking choice, but no, she had this mouth on her, and she wouldn’t shut it.”

  So, you raped her.

  And beat her.

  And killed her.

  All because she wouldn’t back down.

  He jerked back, his eyes looking to his hand, widening like he suddenly realized what he was doing. “It went too far, then there was no going back.”

  My knees gave way, dropping to the dirty floor as I choked and coughed, trying to get one deep breath into my lungs. “That’s… that’s why.” It made sense. He wasn’t supposed to kill her, just scare her into not running away. But he has an anger problem, that much was for damn sure.

  He went too far.

  Tears blurred my eyes, my breathing slowly evening out, but my heart racing so fast it was fighting one against the other.

  “Why what?” he asked, backing away, moving toward the door.

  “Why you kept bailing him out…” My throat ached, my head too. “He had you by the balls. Could have called the police.”

  “I was the police,” he roared, swiping his arm across one of the tables, sending everything clattering to the ground. “I was the fucking police.”

  This raspy laughter left my mouth.

  It all made sense.

  “Exactly,” I whispered. “Policeman goes to jail for murder? You’d be destroyed.”

  His face was red, his breathing heavy and erratic. He braced his hands against the now empty workstation, his body rising and falling as he fought to find a rhythm. He tapped at his chest with his fist, stretching up taller as he shook his head and tried to calm himself. “It doesn’t matter now, anyway. It’ll all be over after this. He won’t be able to control me anymore.”

  Fighting the way my body was shutting down, I fought to get to my knees. “What the hell are you talking abou—”

  The large wooden barn doors flew open, a couple of rough-looking men standing on the other side, waiting with a large SUV, like the one I’d been stuffed into at the house in Tampa. The door opened, and a foot stepped out.

  “Sage,” my father said excitedly with a wide grin. He rushed forward with his arms outstretched. “Holy shit, what’d they do to you?”

  I let him gingerly help me to my feet, stabilizing them before I shoved both my hands against his chest. “Get away from me,” I spat, forcing him to take a step back while the movement made me stumble back into the wall.

  He frowned, looking between a grinning Arthur and then back to me. “Sage,” he scolded with a frown. “You should be grateful. Arthur risked a lot to rescue you.”

  “Risked what?”

  Arthur stepped in, waving his hands in the air and walking around behind my dad, so they were both facing me. “Jason, it’s fine. She’s been manipulated, you know I’m not offended.”

  My dad’s frown grew deeper. “We’re going to talk,” he snapped.

  “Now, now,” Arthur placated. “Don’t be hard on the girl. She just lost her father.”

  “Wha—”

  Bang.

  Bang.

  Bang.

  I screamed, and I couldn’t stop it. My hands going to my face, and my body shaking as I watched my body jolt with each bullet that blew through his chest, shooting out the other side and into the wall beside me.

  My father’s body dropped to his knees, lifelessly falling flat on his face, the hard thump of his skull hitting the concrete floor almost bringing on another wave of nausea.

  “Oh my God,” I sobbed, my breathing jerky, my heart not able to find a solid rhythm.

  “Nothing to say, now? No, thank you?”

  “Go to hell,” I spat, the deep sob in my throat not allowing it to be as powerful as it should have been.

  Arthur’s laughter was booming, his two goons joining him.

  Though it was cut short.

  I held my breath.

  For just a second.

  I knew the sound instantly. And as the tears streamed down my cheeks, my head felt like it could explode. I laughed.

  Arthur froze, his door part way open, the sickening grin on his face falling away like it had melted off.

  The rumbling chorus of motorcycles was all I needed.

  “Burn it down.”

  I gasped, shaking my head as goon number one grabbed a gas tank sitting close to the barn looking doors. He quickly screwed the lid off and started pouring it onto the ground.

  No way.

  This wasn’t it.

  Stumbling along the side of the wall, I tripped, falling to my knees, the pain shooting up through my back. I turned, looking over my shoulder, catching sight of asshole number two as he pulled a newspaper from his back pocket, lit it, then he backed out the open doors, pausing in the doorway while asshole one climbed into the front seat of the car.

  No.

  Then he threw it.

  And slammed the doors shut.

  SAGE

  The heat of the fire exploding the gas threw my body back against the wall.

  I could feel it scorching my skin, the rush of flames following the line of gasoline around the room, igniting anything and everything within its reach. I fell to my hands and knees, scampering along the floor, trying to
keep my shirt pulled up over my mouth so I could still breathe as smoke billowed, quickly filling the room within seconds.

  Bang.

  I ducked, covering my head, hitting the floor as something on one of the shelves exploded.

  Bang.

  Another one.

  My heart was struggling, fighting to keep my blood pumping. My brain giving up—it wanted to sleep, it wanted to give in, and I knew it was because of the concussion.

  I also knew if I gave in right now, I might never wake up.

  Hype, where are you?

  He was here.

  I just needed to get to him before Arthur took Hype from me.

  Apart from Aria, at this point, if Hype hadn’t been around, and I’d gone missing, no one else would be concerned. I would be a no one because I’d spent most of my life keeping to myself, scared to do anything outside the little bubble I’d created.

  At least, until Hype showed up and asked if my WiFi was working.

  The smart bastard.

  Since then, he’d been pushing every button on my body he could find. Pushing the limits of my mind and body and forcing me to stand up. Have a voice. To speak.

  He was arrogant, demanding, and a goddamn asshole. But he was also protective, loyal, and had forced me to view the world in a different way.

  The idea of him being killed, being hurt, just fucking felt like someone had reached into my chest and torn it out.

  It had only been a few weeks.

  A few fast, furious, and absolutely fucking insane weeks.

  But I just wasn’t ready for it to end.

  Maybe I never wanted it to end.

  I should have been grieving the father I’d just watched being murdered. But I wasn’t. I didn’t know that man. He wasn’t the person I thought my father was. Hype was right, at least he and the club didn’t hide who they were. He didn’t pretend to be anything other than the man he was. He didn’t hide the shit he would do to protect and support the people he loved, even though he knew it was wrong.

  Because he knew what family was.

  True family.

  And that was something apparently my father failed to get right.

  I inhaled a sharp sob, tears streaming down my cheeks now at the thought of actually having the chance at something real. Something more than just an absentee father. A family who fought for each other, a family who did what they had to do to support each other.