Trapping Wasp (Dead Presidents Book 3)

by Harley Stone

  Trent nodded again, and then gave me a quick hug, dodging my kisses, before he ran off.

  As we walked out of the classroom, I once again laced my fingers in Wasp’s. “You know he’s gonna want to call you all the time now, right?”

  Wasp shrugged. “I don’t mind talking to him.”

  He didn’t get it. Trent would bug the hell out of me, but I couldn’t even be mad because the gesture was so sweet. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Trust me, I do. All the phone calls in the world are worth it if he knows he can call me if you guys are ever in trouble.”

  ***

  Thursday morning, I was frantically searching through my purse while Trent ate breakfast. Frustrated, I dumped the contents onto the counter and sifted through it. Still no Chapstick.

  Jessica strolled in and grabbed a banana, gesturing at the pile I was sweeping back into my purse. “You lose something?”

  “Yes, and my lips are peeling.”

  The knowing look Jessica gave me made me want to defend myself, but she was right. I had been making out with Wasp. As much as possible. Unfortunately, our visits had been restricted to the Copper Penny breakroom for the past two days, but the weekend was coming, and I was looking forward to getting some uninterrupted time with Wasp.

  Trent had to sleep sometime, and when he did, I wanted my lips to be soft and ready for Wasp’s attack.

  “Trent, have you seen my Chapstick?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said around a mouthful of granola.

  Barely resisting the urge to rip out my hair, I asked, “Where?”

  “You put it in my backpack.”

  I had? Why did I have no memory of this? Since Wasp had some sort of club meeting and I didn’t have to work last night, I’d taken Trent to the YMCA after picking him up from school. We’d gone swimming, and now that he mentioned it, I did vaguely remember swiping it across his lips before we hit the locker room. But why would I stick it in his backpack? I had to be losing my ever-loving mind. No doubt daydreaming about all the things I wanted Wasp to do to me this weekend. The man had taken over my mind and body and I’d need an exorcism just so I could think straight and not tingle every time he was near.

  Irritated at myself for wasting so much time searching before asking Trent, I scooped up his backpack and marched into the living room to sit on the couch as I searched through pockets.

  “I have to get to work,” Jessica said, heading for the door. “You guys have a good day.”

  “Thanks. You too.” I waved her off and continued my search. The Chapstick wasn’t in any of the pockets so I opened the main compartment and started yanking everything out. Clothes, papers, projects were all piled beside me as I dug. “Found it,” I shouted, holding the small tube in the air victoriously.

  “Good job, Mom,” Trent said, taking another bite.

  His praise made me feel ridiculously immature for freaking out about it in the first place, but I needed Wasp’s lips on mine, and nobody wanted to make out with sandpaper. Slathering my lips, I glanced at the clock on the wall. I had ten minutes to get my life together and get out the door or I’d be late. “You almost done, Trent? It’s time to brush your teeth.”

  In answer, he put his bowl to his mouth and slurped down leftover milk.

  I started shoving stuff back into his backpack, making a mental note to clean it out when we got home. A crisp, folded paper stuck out from the pile, catching my eye. I unfolded it to find individual letters and words cut out of a magazine or newspaper and glued on. Intrigued, I read the message.

  Why did you leave? There’s nowhere you can hide that I can’t find you.

  My blood turned to ice.

  I read the message again.

  Nate.

  No. He couldn’t be here. Not when everything was going so well. Our lives were finally getting on track. Fingers fumbling, I picked up my cell phone and logged in to Becca’s social media account, clicking on Nate’s page. It had been three days since he’d been tagged in anything.

  Three days.

  The drive from Silver City was ten hours.

  The flight was an hour.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  I read the note again, willing it to change. Willing it to not encompass me in this bone-chilling dread. Why would Nate follow me all the way to Seattle? We’d been friends. He’d protected me. Why was he destroying my life?

  A strangled gasp escaped from my tight throat.

  I had to be wrong. Swallowing back my panic, I tried to keep my voice level as I held up the paper. “Um. Trent. Where did you get this?”

  His brow furrowed as he took in my expression before looking at the paper. “Oh. Sorry, Mom, I forgot to give that to you.”

  He knew about it. Another wave of panic swept over me. “That’s okay. But where did you get it?”

  “The man at the Y.”

  Shit.

  My mind spun as I thought back to every face I’d seen at the Y. Had Nate been there? Surely, I would have recognized him. He couldn’t have talked to Trent without me seeing him. Then again, I didn’t even remember putting my Chapstick in Trent’s bag. The security I’d felt with Wasp had made me sloppy.

  Still, I needed more details.

  “What man at the Y?” I asked.

  “The one that gave me the paper.”

  Not helpful. “When did he give you the paper?”

  “After we swam. I’m ready to brush my teeth.” He plopped his bowl down on the table and spun around, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I was mentally climbing the walls.

  “Where was I when he gave you the paper?”

  “In the bathroom.”

  “What did he look like?”

  Trent’s expression turned thoughtful. “He was big. Brown hair.”

  Fuck. He could be describing half of Seattle, but deep in my bones, I knew it was Nate. Call it a mother’s intuition or maybe just this fucked up note that nobody sane would give to a kid, but Nate was here. I’d bet money on it. “Did he say anything?”

  “Just ‘Give this to your mom,’ then he handed me the paper. I put it in my bag, so I wouldn’t lose it. I didn’t mean to forget.”

  “That’s okay, buddy.”

  “Mom, we’re gonna be late if we don’t brush teeth.”

  I couldn’t think about teeth brushing. I could barely even breathe. We needed to get out of there. Nate had approached my kid in a public place, giving him something to scare the crap out of me. He wanted me to know he was coming. That we couldn’t get away.

  I stared at the note, picking it apart, looking for some sort of clue as to what his next move was. How had he found us at the Y? He must have followed us. From the apartment. More ice filled my veins.

  He knows where we live.

  Seattle hadn’t been far enough from Silver City. I should have gone the other direction, not stopping until we hit the east coast. My car wouldn’t have made it, but I should have tried. I should have—

  “Mom,” Trent said, his voice full of concern. “Can I call Wasp?”

  My heart pounded in my ears, my head, my fingertips, making it impossible to think. Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Thu-thump. Faster and faster it beat. Anxiety choked me, making each breath a struggle. Trent was picking up on my fear. Eyebrows raised, hands folded in his lap, he watched me. Forcing down a couple of deep breaths, I did my best to give him a reassuring smile. “Not right now, buddy. Everything’s fine. We’re just gonna have a little change of plans. You’re not going to school today.”

  Or any day.

  We needed to get out of there.

  Go somewhere safer.

  I needed to pack.

  There’s nowhere you can hide that I can’t find you.

  The message stared at me, eating away at my sanity. I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, but I couldn’t. Trent was staring at me.

  We’re in danger.

  I have to get us somewhere safe.

  Picking up my phone, I opened a b
rowser and checked flight deals. The further away, the better. One airline was running a one-ninety-nine special for flights to Florida. For less than five hundred dollars (with taxes, fees, and baggage) I could get us to the opposite end of the country.

  Too bad I didn’t have five hundred dollars.

  But, I knew someone who did.

  Would Wasp loan me the money?

  Or would he insist we stay here so he could protect us?

  God, if Nate got to Wasp…

  My insides felt like they were shattering.

  “But it’s Thursday,” Trent said, sitting beside me on the couch. “I always go to school on Thursday.”

  Fuck school. I wanted to scream from the top of my lungs. Trent’s school no longer mattered if I couldn’t keep him safe. Nothing did.

  “Not today,” I said, standing. “I’m going to put in a movie, and I need you to stay in here while I get some stuff done. What do you want to watch?”

  The worried creases across his forehead told me he knew something was up. “Spiderman?” he asked.

  Naturally. But I didn’t even care. He could say all the Penis Parkers he wanted to as long as he gave me time to get us packed. Putting the disk in, I turned on the television and settled him in to watch it before hurrying into our bedroom. As soon as I was out of earshot, I called Wasp. The line rang and rang until voicemail finally picked up. Growling in frustration, I tossed my phone on the bed and started piling Trent’s clothes into a suitcase.

  Next, I started on mine. I was sitting on the top of my stuffed bag, trying to force the zipper closed when someone banged on the apartment door.

  “Mom!” Trent shouted. “Someone’s here.”

  My heart leaped into my throat as I sprinted into the living room. There were little green Army men everywhere. Trent had set them up as some sort of barrier to protect us. I hurriedly stepped over some and around others until I stood between the door and my kid.

  But then I had no idea what to do.

  Why the fuck don’t we have a peephole?

  Anyone could be in that hallway, and there was no way I was opening the door to find out who it was.

  Another knock. “Carly? Let me in.”

  Nate. It had to be. He’d found us. He’d given my kid a message. And now, he was here. Backing away from the banging, I reached for Trent who was watching me like I’d grown another head.

  “Wasp?” Trent asked.

  I shushed him.

  “Yeah, buddy, it’s me. Is your mom in there?”

  It sounded like Wasp, but it wasn’t him. It was Nate. He was trying to trick us into letting him in. Shaking my head, I held a trembling finger to my lips to silence Trent. I had to get us out of the apartment before Nate found his way in. Hurrying to the window I searched for something that could help us. There had to be a fire escape somewhere.

  My vision swam.

  Everything was so blurry I couldn’t focus.

  “Mom, Wasp’s knocking,” Trent said, his expression torn as he looked from me to the door. “Why won’t you let him in?”

  Trent was terrified. I was terrified. I didn’t know what to do. “It’s not him. It’s—”

  “Dove.”

  The nickname stopped me in my tracks and stuck my tongue to the roof of my mouth. Wondering if I’d misheard, I held my breath and waited.

  “Carly, dove, please.”

  Nobody would call me that, but Wasp. Nobody else under the age of eighty would even think it. Fear ebbed away, clearing my vision and calming my racing heart. The door came back into focus. My lungs cleared, making it possible to breathe again.

  He called me dove.

  “Wasp?” I asked hesitantly.

  “Oh, thank God,” he said in a rush of breath. “Let me in. I’m guessing you already know, but that problem you were worried about… We need to talk.”

  So relieved tears stung my eyes, I vaulted to the door, grabbed the handle and cracked it open to confirm. Dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and his biker vest, Wasp stood in the hallway, his chest rising and falling like he’d just sprinted up the stairs. Our gazes met, and relief flooded his eyes. “Hey.” His eyes softened. “You okay?”

  He was really here. A strangled sob escaped from my throat as I nodded and closed the door long enough to unlatch the chain before ripping it open. I fell into his arms as hot tears raced down my cheeks. He picked me up as if I weighed nothing at all and stepped into the apartment. I barely registered that there was another biker with him. The second biker closed and locked the door.

  “Hey T-man, you okay, buddy?” Wasp asked.

  “I wanted to call you,” Trent said, bounding off the couch and wrapping himself around Wasp’s legs. “Mom wouldn’t let me.”

  “That’s okay. I’m here now. Everything’s gonna be okay.” Wasp was looking around the apartment, seeing the Army men, taking in our fear, getting the full picture of our level of crazy. I wanted to hop down and hide it from him, but I didn’t have the strength. He thought he wanted us? Now he knew what he was getting into.

  “T-man, this is my brother, Stocks. He’s been keeping an eye on you two for me.

  “Are you a soldier, too?” Trent asked.

  Stocks nodded. “I was.” He nodded at the television. “You know, Spiderman’s my favorite superhero.”

  “Me, too,” Trent said.

  “Why don’t you two watch the movie while I go talk to Carly for a few minutes?” Wasp asked.

  “You won’t leave, will you?” Trent asked, fear once again widening his eyes.

  “No buddy. Not without you guys. If I go, you and your mom are coming with me.”

  “Promise?”

  “A man keeps his word, Trent. You know that.”

  The next thing I knew, Wasp was carrying me down the hall to my room. He stopped in the doorway and looked around. “You’re packing?” he asked, his tone clipped.

  “Trent and I need to leave. Nate’s here. He gave Trent a note. At the Y. I was in the bathroom.”

  “What note?”

  “It’s on the coffee table.”

  Hurt clouded Wasp’s eyes. “You were just gonna leave?”

  I snorted. “I don’t have a car. Or money. I was going to ask to borrow plane fare. I tried to call you.”

  “Sweetheart…”

  He didn’t get it. He was going to tell me to stay. “Drew, he took Robbie. He took Becca. And I can’t…” I choked up. Swallowing back tears, I said, “You’re amazing and wonderful, and everything I never knew I needed. The way you look at me… The way you take care of my kid… I love you.” Another sob ripped out of my throat. “I can’t let him take you.”

  Warm lips landed on mine. Wasp squeezed me closer as he kissed away my tears and set me down. When he pulled away, his big rough hands framed my face, holding me still while his gaze captured mine. “I love you, too, and you’re not doing this shit alone. I might be just a mechanic who never saw combat, but I would fight like a goddamn Tasmanian Devil for you and Trent. I’m with you in this. Hell, my brothers are even with you. That’s how I got here so fast. Stocks was watching your building and recognized the asshole from that picture you sent me. I’ve got your back, dove. From here on out, when you’re in trouble, I need you to run to me, not away. You feel me?”

  Unable to speak, I nodded.

  Wasp loved me.

  He was going to fight for me.

  He had my back.

  We were going to be okay.

  Wasp

  “WHAT’S THE PLAN?” Stocks asked as soon as Carly and I emerged from the bedroom. He was sitting on the sofa watching Trent drive a toy race car over a stack of books on the coffee table.

  “Havoc’s on his way.”

  “Havoc’s coming?” Trent asked, bouncing up and down.

  Despite Havoc being a hardass and making them listen, all the kids at Helping Hands seemed to love and respect him. Seriously, it bordered on the line of hero worship, and for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why.


  I was the fun one.

  “Yeah, buddy. He’s gonna take you for a ride in his tow truck.”

  Trent grinned. “Yay! Are we going to your house?”

  “Nope. Somewhere better. A fire station full of ex-servicemen who will keep you and your mom safe.”

  I’d called Link to give him a rundown of the situation and let him know we were on the way. The club wasn’t always the best environment for a child, so he was going to make sure everyone knew we were coming and that there’d be nothing going on in the common area that could traumatize a kid.

  By the time Havoc arrived, Trent was so excited he could barely sit still. All his previous fear seemed to have disappeared now that we were onsite, and his mom had calmed down.

  “Havoc!” Trent shouted, the minute the big ole’ hardass walked through the door. “I get to ride in the tow truck with you.”

  “Hey big guy, you sure do.” They tapped fists, and then Havoc picked him up. “Let’s get to it. Where’s your seat?”

  We loaded Carly and Trent’s bags and buckled Trent into Havoc’s truck and then Carly and I climbed on my bike and Stocks swung his leg over his, all of us watching for Nate. Still no sign of him, so we took off. Two bikes and a tow truck made quite the motorcade, driving the few blocks to the club’s headquarters with cargo so precious I could barely wrap my mind around what they meant to me.

  Carly had been packing to leave.

  The idea of her and Trent going anywhere without me made me want to freak the fuck out. I could have lost her, and even the idea of that made me want to punch something. No, someone. This asshole was fucking with her, and I wanted to rip him apart for it. When she’d finally opened her door and let me in, her fear had been so goddamn palpable, I could practically touch it.

  The motherfucker was going to pay for that.

  Link met us at the front door. He knew Carly from the bar, so I introduced him to Trent.

  “You’re a soldier, too?” Trent asked, eyeing Link’s tatted up arms.

  “I was. Come on, bud, I’ll show you around.”

  “Thanks for helping us out, Link,” Carly said. “I… I really appreciate you opening your club up to us.”

  Link flashed her a smile and squeezed her shoulder. “That’s what we’re here for. We take care of our own.”