Taken: A Dark Hitman Romance

by Sophia Hampton

  By the time I finally get to circling the complex, the SUV isn’t even hiding the fact it’s out to get me. It barrels towards me as I pull into the driveway, basically pinning me into an empty spot. Their wheels narrowly miss mine as I manage to spin out to the side to avoid being completely sandwiched against a brick wall and their bumper.

  I don’t dare get off my bike. As I wait for the driver to get out of the SUV, I anxiously scan what’s around me for an escape. By the looks of the complex, it’s full of other riders, most likely Senators. Unlike us Knights, the Senators like to live together in their own beehive, and I’ve managed to drive myself right into the nest.

  “Anton Murdoch!” A voice cries from the tinted windows, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “Who’s asking?” I yell back, my voice catching in my throat.

  “The man that’s about to kill you if you don’t tell me your business here.” As he replies, I spot the barrel of a gun popping over the corner of the opened driver’s side door.

  I gulp as I raise my hands to chin height and say as confidently as I can, “I’m not here to start shit. I’m here to talk to Arie.”

  “Who sent you?”

  “No one. That’s why I’m here. You think the Knights would send their best rider out to be killed? I’ve got some business with Arie that pertains to both clubs.”

  There’s a long, deafening silence as I trying to not count the minutes that have passed. The gun has disappeared back into the car, but he’s still only seconds away from getting a good shot on me. I’d give anything to reach down to the holster near my jean pocket, but I know better. My hands stay up where everyone can see them.

  I hear a loud bang as my eyes close tight, waiting for a bullet to hit me. But there’s nothing, just the sound of footsteps against the pavement. My eyes pop open just in time to see the figure of a man grab me by the arm and pull me off of the bike. I don’t fight him off as he leads me into the backseat of the SUV and slams the door behind me. I watch as he eyes the complex suspiciously, his jaw locked tight.

  “What the fuck?” I shout, my blood pressure rising. “What the shit is this about?”

  “You want to talk to Arie?” The man turns around slowly from the driver’s seat, “You’ve got him. What do you want Murdoch?”

  I’ve met Arie before, but it doesn’t make him any less impressive. Built like an enforcer, he’s a giant at over 6 feet tall. But unlike me, he’s all muscle bursting through his dark skin. A red bandana covers his bald head and ties at a distinct scar he got from an accident nearly ten years ago when he was still riding with the Knights and me.

  “Never thought you’d see me again, did you?” I say, resisting reaching over to offer my hand.

  “I didn’t think you’d have the balls to come find me after the shit went down.” He continues to stare forward while his man keeps his eye out on the complex.

  It’s true. Unlike most guys I’ve ever heard of, Arie somehow managed to get away from club life. Most men never can, even if they beg and plead to break free. And runners almost always get caught. You either retire a Knight or you pay the price of desertion. Except Arie. He managed to run straight to another club without being caught, and they welcomed him in with open arms, giving him a position at the very top.

  “I’m not here to talk about that. I’m here to talk to you about the Walsh family and your Senators. I know you know about the double business with Walsh doing runs with Senator resources. I even saw some of your boys a few weeks ago when they beat the crap out of me.”

  “Why would I give you details about the business the Senators do. How do I know you’re not going to pull another one over us like you did last month. You killed one of our best riders, you know.”

  “He wasn’t that good.”

  There’s an awful quiet, the kind of quiet where you know your life is literally on the line. His man coughs, breaking it up.

  “Then why are you here, Anton? Just fucking get it over with.” He grips onto the steering wheel tightly, his head still faced away from me.

  “I’m here because I know you hate Walsh just as much as I do, if not more maybe. You want to see that son of a bitch gone and the Knights restored to what they used to be -- before that stupid motherfucker and his pussy of a son took over. And you don’t want to see your newly beloved Senators fall for Walsh’s same tricks, do you? You know that once he has enough money and power, he’ll just take you over like he did the other Knight branches. One by one, you’ll be gone, replaced by a Knight like me. Do you want that?”

  “No,” Arie grumbles at me, “I don’t.”

  “Then I need you to tell me exactly what is going on with Walsh and the Senators, every detail.” My hands reach to my pockets as I try to lean in as close as I can to the front seat.

  Arie says as he says, “All I know is that our second, Joey Lenare, asked me to get some of our guys to run down to the Grand Canal a few times a week for a covert mission. But when the guys got back, they wouldn’t tell me what they did or what Joey had them do. However, I overheard one of them mention Old Man Clay and seeing him at the drop point for the Knights, if it’s still in the same spot it used to be when I was running.”

  “What do you think is going on?”

  “You know damn well what is going on, Anton. Walsh and Lenare are working together. The two of them are using our guys to make a killing and pocketing it all for themselves. It’s a fucking disgrace.”

  “Does Joey know that you know?”

  “No, but he suspects. The clubs gotten real secretive as of late. No more big meetings. Everything’s done in small groups now. Word trickles down from the top when something is happening. But the boys are getting restless. Ace over here agrees with me.” The man next to him nods silently.

  “Same thing in the Knights. Do you have any plans?”

  “Plans? No, man. I’ve got nothing but keep my head low and stay the fuck out of it. Last thing I need is drama on both sides again, and I suggest you consider that piece of advice.”

  “I get you man. I get you. Just keep your ears and eyes open. You need something, you tell me. You still got my number?” He hands me his phone open to my contact info. I quickly add Leo’s explaining to him who he is and how he can help.

  After I hand him back his phone, I go to open the back door. The locks are still in place, holding me in. Arie finally turns towards me, his green eyes bursting with a darkened glare. “You know, before you go, there’s a rumor out there that you’re fucking Walsh’s daughter. Is that true?”

  I laugh as heartily as I can as I place my hand on the door again, motioning him to let me out. “Rumors are bitches,” I reply, “I don’t know if any girl’s worth this kind of action, though.”

  With a smile, he reaches across and unhooks the child locks. I walk out of the door quickly and head back towards my bike, still pinned against the wall. Arie and his man Ace watch me as I pull it out to the lot underneath the balcony and ride off as quickly as possible without looking back.

  When I finally make it back to Knight’s territory, I pull to the side of the road towards an abandoned parking lot. Under the one flickering light, I take my phone out of the pocket. The recorder is still on and capturing every sound. Without replaying it, I send the clip of Arie, Ace, and myself back to Leo. He will know what to do with it.

  Chapter 23: Crack in the Façade

  “When dealing with rabid, aggressive animals, standard protocol is to never be left alone.” The professor’s monotone voice drags as time passes by so slowly. “The signs of aggression are what, Tory?”

  I can’t believe I just told Anton that I’m pregnant. I mean, I knew that I had to, but I didn’t think I would actually go through with it. Maybe it was too soon. And, I mean, I don’t know much about babies. I do know from vet school that the risk of losing a baby is pretty high in the beginning. What if something goes wrong? Then again, I should probably be more worried about what will happen when my father finds out
over anything else --

  “Tory?”

  My mind goes back to the classroom as I pick my head off of hands. Dimly, I apologize, “I’m sorry Professor. Can you please repeat the question?”

  She looks at me exasperated. Her eyes peer at me through beady slits. It’s the same look she gave me and Teddy when we snuck in twenty minutes late for this Health and Safety course. With gritted teeth she asks again, “What are the signs of aggression in dogs?”

  Everything’s a blank. I should know this. I studied it just last night. But nothing is coming to me when she puts me on the spot. “Uh… Raised haunches… um … showing teeth… lunging….”

  “And?”

  “Bark?” I know it isn’t right, but I can’t stand this any longer. All the eyes in the classroom are on me as I fail at answering Dog 101 questions. I want to kick myself. This is so unlike me. I was always the straight A student, and now I am barely staying afloat on some of the easiest classes I’ve ever taken.

  “Low growl, Miss Walsh. I expect you remember that for the quiz at the end of the class.” She scans the rest of the classroom with a knowing look as she adds, “Failure to pass the basic test will mean you will need to repeat the seminar next semester. For those planning on graduating and getting your license, it could mean coming back to see me without your diploma.”

  I open the red notebook in front of me and begins jotting down every word the professor is saying. I am not going to mess this up, especially with a baby on the way. If my parents wouldn’t help me out, which I know they wouldn’t, I was going to have to become independent and self-sufficient. And that meant graduating on time, getting a great job as a vet, and making my own home.

  A few hours later, and I’ve managed to pass the seminar class regardless of my professor’s warning. I hate to admit it, but I’m practically giddy as I head out of the classroom, the certificate in my hand. The first person to see me is Haunch, but even his big lug of a body and face don’t diminish my shine. I skate on by him as I call out to my classmates, “I passed! I passed! Graduation, here I come!”

  “Tory, your dad wants to see you at home.” Haunch’s pained expression gives him away. His face is so focused on being unemotional that it says more than he’d like.

  “Why? I still have lab in an hour? Can it wait?”

  “No, Tory. He needs to see you now. I have orders to bring you back no matter what.” He looks as if he’s ready to carry me out kicking or screaming. Even his hands raise as if he is ready to catch me mid-run. But I don’t say a word back. I swallow the huge lump in my throat and walk beside him past my classmates still celebrating their test results and out towards the parking lot where Haunch’s truck is still waiting for us.

  When we make it back home, Haunch doesn’t even bother walking me in. Instead, he puts the car in park and looks out towards the house. Through the front window, I can see the frail body of my mom hunched over the dining room table as my father paces. Whatever is about to go down, I can tell Haunch wants nothing to do with it.

  My voice shakes slightly as I try to talk to him, “Please, Haunch. Do you know what’s going on?”

  He leans back in the driver’s seat and bangs his head on the beat up leather. “It’s not my place, Tory. Go talk to your daddy, and I’ll hopefully see you soon.”

  “Soon?” My heart drops. “I have class tomorrow though. You’re not going to be there to take me?”

  “I -- I don’t know about that. We’ll have to wait and see what your daddy says.”

  Haunch reaches across my chest and opens the passenger door for me. I unbuckle myself slowly and then head out of the driveway to the front entrance of the house. Before I open the door, I place a hand on my belly. My mind tries to reach the little soul inside of me to say, It’s going to be alright. I’m going to protect you no matter what. We’re going to get through this together.

  The house is silent. So silent that I can hear my father breath his large huffs and puffs like a bull ready for the rodeo. As soon as I walk in the door and drop my bag at the entryway, I hear the slide of the chair on the hardwood. My mother, dressed in a pink button down top and a pair of jeans, greets me. Her face is as white as a ghost. She grabs my hands and opens her mouth. Her eyes drift down to my stomach, and I know what’s about to happen.

  “Tory Walsh!” My father’s voice beats my mother before she can even say a word. “Get your ass in here.”

  My mother leads the way, standing in front of me as protecting as she can be. Still, he looks past her and pulls me by my arm so roughly that I have to use my hand to catch myself from falling on one of the antique wooden table chairs.

  “Sit!” He barks, and I follow as obedient as I can be. He marches behind me, his feet treading on the floors with squeaks and scratches. Finally, out the corner of my eye, I see him throw an object down onto the table. The plastic piece bounces a few times before landing just a few feet from me. My eyes grow wide in horror as I spot one of the used pregnancy tests.

  “What the fuck is that?” He yells directly into my ear, so loudly that the hair moves with the wind of his breath.

  I sit up a bit taller, my hands wrapping around the arms of the chair as I steady myself. “It’s a pregnancy test,” I say matter-of-factly.

  My mom takes a few steps towards me, placing a hand on the table leaf nearest to me. She bends down slightly to catch my eyes as she asks, “Whose pregnancy test, Tory?”

  I stare at her, unblinking. A small smile creases on my face as I can't conceal it any longer. My mom’s tired, worn face transforms. She looks about twenty years younger, the beautiful girl my father ran off with, as she processes the information.

  My dad, however, reacts exactly as I thought he would, “You little slut!” He shouts. “How dare you disobey me and bring shame on this family!” I look up and over at him, prepared for his rage. Still, when I feel his hand slap across the fleshy part of my cheek and the pain flash white and red marks across my eye, I can’t help but feel a little bit of a shock. This was my father. When did it come to this?

  “Clay!” my mom screeches over the table, her hands pounding on the top in balled up fists. “Don’t you dare hit that girl, do you hear me? She is carrying your grandchild!” It’s the first defying words I’ve ever heard her say against my father.

  “Like hell she is! That is not my fucking grandchild. Don’t you get it, you dumb cunt? This is that bastard’s plan to take over my goddamn club! He knew what he was doing -- and who he was doing.” I cringe; that was obviously directed at me. It’s hard to believe that this monster is my father sometimes. But that’s not the worst of it. “He saw how stupid this goddamn whore was was, and he manipulated her to get into her fucking pants. First chance he got, he put his cock in her, and she was just fucking stupid enough to go along with it. Don’t you fucking get it, Maureen? This is what he fucking wants!” He wraps his arm around my arm and drags me to stand. “I knew this would happen when you told me that the baby was going to be a girl. I knew we would end up with a pregnant bitch on our hands one day. We should have aborted the goddamn whore when your dad told us to!”

  “It’s not part of a ‘plan!’” My voice comes back to me as I defend Anton, “He doesn’t want anything to do with the club or you. We fell in love. Don’t you get that?”

  He laughs directly in my face, spitting with each chuckle. “Love? Jesus fucking Christ. Do you hear that bullshit that’s coming out of your mouth? Maybe this is my fault for not letting you in on club business, but no Desert Knight falls in love. He fucks a girl and then moves on. And I’m not about to let you become one of those club hags begging for a handout!”

  “Clay…” My mom’s voice lowers as she tugs on my free arm, pulling me away from him. “Not this. Not this.”

  “You have two choices, Tory. You get this fixed tomorrow or I do it for you. I swear to God if you don’t take care of it, I will beat you so bad you’ll wish you were never born.”

  Just as his hand raises, I
hear the door open and close. My brother calls out, “What the hell is going on? Dad? Mom?”

  There’s a yank as my dad grabs me by the hair and drags me down to the front entrance. Brandon looks at me in complete disgust as my dad throws me at his feet. To the side of me, my mother lets out a sickening, helpless cry. “Your whore of a sister managed to get herself knocked up by that Murdoch bastard’s baby!”

  “WHAT?” I look up to see Brandon staring at me with cold, glossy eyes. He swaggers a bit, just as my father does. And it dawns on me -- they’re high.

  “You dumb bitch!” Brandon yells as he lifts his knee and strikes my face. My nose practically collapses in on itself from the force. His jeans stain with my bright red blood. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Do you know what this means?”