by S. Ferguson
They both look nervous for a second and then shrug. Bree taps her glass against mine, tapping it twice on the bar before raising it to her lips. She makes a face, but I’m already committed, so I down mine quickly. God, it burns, like liquid fire sliding down my throat. I must have made the same awful face as Bree because Declan cracks up, walking away shaking his head.
“Don’t think you’re one of us or some shit now. And you should stay away from Bree, Boss won’t like it.” A gruff voice suddenly comes from my right.
Swiveling on the stool, I turn my body to face the sudden intruder. Jake.
“I think it’s going to be kind of hard to get a drink around here without talking to Bree.” I swallow the sudden lump in my throat and give him all the attitude I can muster. I’m not taking his shit.
Instead of getting snippy, he leans forward, a menacing look on his face. “Ron might think you’re cute, and you can play nice all you want, but I know you don’t give a shit about any of this.” He makes a show of waving his arm toward the room. “You don’t want to belong, you don’t know anything about loyalty. You aren’t going to be one of us. You.Are.Not.Wanted.Here.” I think he’s done talking but he just smirks before speaking again. “You’re just a stupid little girl who found something she thinks she’s good at, but when you met someone who could actually fight back, you rolled over like a bitch in heat.” He practically spits the words at me.
There is a second where I want to know why he seems to think Ron finds me cute, as ridiculous as that is, but my anger quickly overtakes it. I feel a brief flash of shame followed by rage. I don’t even think, my fist flying before my mind registers what my body is doing. It connects with Jake’s mouth, hard. So hard, his front teeth cut through his own lips and my knuckles. When I pull back, my hand is covered in blood, I can’t tell how much is from him or my own.
“YOU FUCKING BITCH!” Jake roars, lunging for me. I’ll give him credit, he didn’t even flinch, not even taking a second to wipe the blood dripping from this mouth. He takes me to the ground, the impact of his shoulder in my diaphragm sending all the air out of my body.
My body slams on the ground, Jake on top of me. I hear chairs sliding across wood as everyone jumps to their feet. I give him a wheezing, evil laugh despite the pain shooting up my spine from my earlier encounter with Ron.
“You’re going to have to do better than that, fuck boy.”
Once he has me down, I realize he isn’t going to hit me. He has a frustrated look on his face, I know he wants nothing more than to punch me right in my fucking face. I should be grateful it’s going to end at this, but I can’t help myself. I completely relax my body, going limp underneath him. He starts to pull back to look at me, and that’s the opening I need. I turn just enough toward my right side, bringing my left arm between us. I quickly bend that arm, sending a direct blow from my elbow to his temple. The first one startles him but isn’t enough to move him, so I do it again and again. Finally, he moves farther to the side trying to dodge my blows raising one arm to grab mine. I seize the opening, managing to roll out from underneath him before turning and launching myself at his back. I get him lowered to the ground pretty easily and I’m halfway into locking him in an armbar when someone pulls me back, by my hair. The pain in my head explodes all over again. Can I seriously go five minutes without someone pulling my hair today? I’ve never had my ass kicked so much in one night. At least not since that night.
“Get the fuck off him,” Ron growls, putting me in a Nelson hold and dragging me across the room.
I don’t make it easy for him, dragging my feet and spitting in Jake’s direction.
“I’m going to fucking kill her,” Jake says through gritted teeth, rising to his feet. The bottom half of his face is covered in blood, the commotion from our fight having smeared it to one side and down his neck and shirt. He looks like something out of a horror movie.
“You started it,” Declan says to his brother. There is a smirk on his face, but his eyes are full of concern.
“Don’t start your shit, Dec,” Jake says, his eyes darting to his brother, who has walked out from behind the bar.
“I’m sorry, did you say something? I was too busy enjoying you getting your ass handed to you by a girl,” Declan says, crossing his arms over his chest with a full on smile now.
I realize he’s trying to defuse the situation, despite his antagonizing. I don’t think it’s working judging by the hate-filled look Jake is still giving me. Jake doesn’t respond, he just gives Declan the finger before marching toward me.
“You touch her, you’re going to have to live with the consequences,” Ron says, his tone all business.
I don’t know exactly what Ron means by consequences but Jake hesitates before opening his mouth. “This isn’t over, cunt,” he hisses before giving me his back.
“I knew you were gonna be fuckin’ trouble,” Ron grumbles, releasing his hold and grabbing my arm.
I debate answering him. While there is something about Ron that just makes me want to keep my mouth shut, unfortunately, I’ve never been good at that.
“You like trouble,” I say, catching myself before I shoot him a flirty look too. What the fuck is wrong with me?
He drags me toward the bar, through a door I hadn’t noticed behind it, and into an empty kitchen. I start dragging my feet, not liking the idea of being alone with him in a room full of white, protective clothes. He is clearly pissed and this room looks like a slaughterhouse. He doesn’t stop though, just keeps marching until we’re at a back door. Then he jerks me to the right before we head up a set of fire escape stairs. I bang my shins on the metal steps trying to keep up with him and slow us down at the same time.
It isn’t long until we are standing in a dimly lit hallway lined with rooms that makes me think of an old apartment building. He marches to the end of the hallway until he reaches the last door on the right. I don’t miss the multiple locks on the door. He opens it and pulls me so hard I’m thrust in front of him.
“Welcome to your new home,” he says, releasing me as I fly back, my calves hitting something firm making me fall backward.
Instead of landing on the floor I land on a twin mattress and box spring, stacked on top of each other. I bring my hands behind me to rest on the tattered mattress, trying to keep my balance. There’s a thin pillow at the head of the bed and a sheet that has seen better days thrown on top of it. At least the fabric smells clean. The rest of the room is bare. There’s a small window with bars on it and a door that I’m thinking must be a closet.
“I’ll have someone bring you some food in a couple of hours. I suggest you rest because we have a lot to talk about later tonight,” Ron says before he nods to the other door in the room. “That’s the bathroom, I’ll work on getting you some clothes and supplies so you can shower.”
With that, he gives me one more hard look and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him. I hear the locks clicking into place, one by one, sealing me in. Honestly, I should be flattered he feels like he needs so many locks to keep me in one room.
I throw myself back on the mattress, my legs hanging off and my feet still resting on the floor. This was not how I saw my day going. I snort at the understatement. My humor goes away quickly: I’m a fucking prisoner and I think I just made a real enemy in Jake.
I refuse to cry as I adjust myself into a ball, my head resting on the pillow. My eyes close, the exhaustion from the day from hell kicking in as the adrenaline fades.
4
Ron
I shake my head in dark amusement as I make my way down the hallway. I’ve had enough of Kella’s shit for now. I hate the idea of locking her up but it’s for the best. Jake was close to losing it and I can’t let her run wild. Starting shit with my guys isn’t something I will tolerate. Jake was an asshole but he’s right, she isn’t one of us. The only reason she walked away in one piece is her gender and even that was barely enough.
“That bitch is fucking crazy,” Jake s
ays, as soon as I walk into the bar again.
“I know,” I say wearily, not giving him anything else. I don’t know what he wants from me. I don’t even know what I want from me right now.
“Why is she here?” Bree is asking, her face a mask of concern.
I pause, not sure how to answer. Bree works here but she isn’t part of the crew, and I want her protected as much as possible. I also can’t tell her to shut the fuck up like I would if she was one of my guys, she’s worth more than that. She deserves more than that.
“Wildcard,” I say, deciding to keep it honest, short and simple. I walk into my office and slam the door behind me hoping everyone gets the message and leaves me the fuck alone.
My phone is sitting on my desk when I sit down, I have a couple of new emails and I see six new text alerts. I bet anything it’s Lexi. She’s going to be a problem; I can feel it in my gut.
I spend about forty-five minutes taking care of emails and stalling before I admit to myself that I should provide some sort of information to the guys. I run my fingers through my hair, gripping the wild strands tightly. The pain pulls my mind into focus and I shove my phone into my pocket as I march back out into the bar.
“Time to talk!” I shout, making the bar immediately go quiet.
Jake, Greg and the other guys pull their chairs into the center of the room making a semi-circle.
I walk to the front and try to decide how I want to tell them everything and more importantly, what I want to tell them.
“As you know, we thought Tony was trying to start a war when someone was taking shots at Jake and Greg. The same person that killed Ryan,” I start somberly, they should know this, but I’ve learned to never over-estimate someone’s ability to keep up. Most of the guys, there’s about ten of them, give me a nod to continue. “We now know it was that fucking deadbeat Lorenzo trying to set us up, but that doesn’t mean everything is okay with Tony now.” I take a deep breath. “He’s sending a delegate to talk to us.”
The room explodes. Shouted curses and other noises of protest ring through the air. Not only did the last meeting with Tony end up in a shootout, but it’s an insult in and of itself that Tony wouldn’t come personally. I let it go, trying to keep the peace but that could easily be perceived as weakness. I’m not stupid. I know I would win if we went head-to-head, but it would come at a cost. A cost I don’t want to pay if I can avoid it. Losing Ryan so recently reminded me of the pain this kind of war can cause. And now my daughter could be right in the middle of it if I’m not careful. Tony doesn’t operate under the same moral code I do. I won’t kill innocents; he’ll kill anyone he thinks is a valuable target.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dave, one of the newer guys, says from the back. He’s a pretty good guy, keeps to himself, but gets his shit done. I’m kind of surprised he’s speaking up.
“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ serious,” I grumble, grabbing a chair and spinning it around. Straddling it, I rest my arms on the back of it, watching the guys. Mostly I see anger, a few look like they have somewhere else they would rather be, and then there’s Greg. He looks pale, and I know he’s remembering the loss of his best friend Ryan. Lorenzo killed him right in front of Greg’s eyes. He was a civilian, not involved in this life, and he should have never died. He was a good man.
“When?” Jake asks, his voice calmer than it should be. Jake’s always been the wild one, even now that he’s not drinking anymore. I know his calm demeanor is for show, and I don’t like it. Calm Jake is the calm before the storm. Nothing good follows a calm Jake.
“A few days. That’s why she’s here.” I don’t say her name because I don’t need to.
“You going to have her kill Tony’s guy? Because I’m pretty fucking sure we can handle that ourselves,” Jake says, his irritation clear. A few guys voice their agreement.
Ah, there he is. I think with a smirk.
“No, no one is killing anyone.” I give a hard look filled with a confidence I don’t feel. This is a lie even I can’t fake believing, but I have no option but to try. “I still don’t trust Tony, and you know they won’t expect someone like her to have the skills she does. She’s going to be my piece for the night and backup I hope we don’t need.” A few guys express their understanding, but Jake doesn’t look like he’s on board.
“You know we can handle it. We fuckin’ have before,” he mutters as Greg places a steadying hand on his shoulder.
“We have a problem?” I ask, meeting his gaze head-on. I care about him, he’s one of my favorites, but my word is law. I will not take kindly to a challenge.
“Nah, Boss.” Jake lowers his gaze and Greg wraps his arm around him. I’m still not completely used to them showing affection, but I don’t really give a fuck. Life’s too short to not be with the person you love, especially over some bullshit reason like homophobia. Jake’s a good kid, he’s been through fucking hell and back. He even had it worse than Bree in my opinion and that’s fucking saying something. But he’s hot-headed and hasn’t completely learned to control his temper.
“Make sure it isn’t or you’ll sit the fuckin’ meeting out,” I say, rising to my feet. My phone buzzes in my pocket as I push the chair back to the table.
“Like fuck I will,” Jake grumbles, also standing and for a horrific moment I think he’s going to challenge me, but he heads toward the heavy doors at the entrance to the bar.
“Guess you got some work to do then,” Dave says, I hadn’t noticed him walk over.
“Fuck, I don’t know how to deal with this chick,” I say to myself. Looking at Dave I decide he can handle some of the light work. “Go get her some clothes and hair shit, whatever else girls need. She looks like a size small. Actually, take Bree with you.” He nods his understanding. I grab his arm, tightly and look him in his eyes. “I’m trusting you with my daughter. Anything happens while you’re out, you’ll pay with your fuckin’ life,” I growl, not waiting for him to answer before I storm off to my office.
The door slams behind me as I take a seat and fight the urge to punch my desk with my frustration. With a deep sigh, I wake up my computer and start looking through shipment reports. I’ve ordered new weapons and ammo to be here before the meeting. Better safe than sorry. Once I confirm the order is moving on time, I decide it’s time for Kella and I to have another talk.
Once I make it to her door, I stop outside and question myself. I don’t doubt myself often, but am I right to take a risk on her? Taking a centering breath, I carefully unlock the four deadbolts on the door.
When I open it, I see she’s sound asleep, curled in a little ball on the ancient mattress. For a moment, I feel shitty for putting her in this sparse, rundown room. Then I shake it off. This is the only secure room we have and I have no doubt she would have escaped from any other one. Something tells me this wouldn’t be her first time escaping from somewhere she was put against her will. She looks peaceful sleeping, her blond hair scattered around the pillow. She looks so young, and fuck, she looks beautiful. Her face looks so relaxed, no smirking, no anger. Her breath is coming in even waves; she looks totally relaxed. Something in me won’t let me wake her. I back up against the wall and lower myself down until I’m sitting on the floor. She makes me think so many things. She’s a walking contradiction of innocence and filth. Seeing her like this, the thoughts I’m having, it makes me want things I shouldn’t want. Things I can’t have. She’s too young, despite what she’s done, you can tell she’s still so pure in many ways. She has an innocence about her that can’t be faked. I’m an old, hardened bastard. That same bastard in me wants to be the one to show her some of the dirtier things in life. No way can I have the things I’m thinking right now. I adjust myself in my pants and turn my head to look at the wall. All the shit I’ve been through in my life, I know I’m meant to walk it alone. The way Elizabeth treated our daughter, the way she treated me, I can’t do it again. I won’t do it again. I’ve been very careful to never let anyone close to me since then. Bree is t
he only exception and even that’s been harder than I expected. I won’t risk letting someone else in and I won’t risk someone else’s life unnecessarily. Being with me would be painting a big target on her back. These thoughts, these feelings I have stirring for Kella, they are something that can never be.
I don’t know how long I sit there watching her sleep, feeling like some sort of creep. This is a horrible idea, not just watching her, but wanting her. Yet I can’t bring myself to wake her up. Sitting here, running through all the reasons I can’t feel this way in my head, my emotions are running the gamut. She stirs a little and I raise my head at the sound of the sheet rustling. Her eyes open slowly and for a moment her eyes are nothing but open and innocent. Then they harden as she glares at me.
5
Kella
I hear him breathing before I open my eyes. I don’t know how I know it’s Ron, but I do. I take a deep fortifying breath and wait a few seconds before opening my eyes. I take him in, being sure to keep my gaze hard. He’s sitting on the floor, his back leaning against the wall one leg bent and his arm resting across it. He looks so out of place, a perfectly pressed suit being wrinkled to shit and most likely covered in dust from his location. He doesn’t look like some sort of crime lord now. He just looks like a man. His blue eyes flash to mine and he smiles. It’s not like any of the sarcastic smiles he’s given me before. It’s beautiful. Just as quickly as it appears, trying to snatch my breath away, it’s gone. His standard scowl resumes its place.
“Have a nice nap?” Ron says, motioning toward me.
“I guess I slept as well as a prisoner can,” I hiss, sitting. My hair is all over my face, I shove it back with my hand. I’m sure I look like a disaster right now. I don’t know why I care, but for some reason I do.