by J. M. Walker
“You’re right. Clearly, you don’t. That’s why I need you home. I can protect you.”
“I’m safe here.” I placed the phone on speaker and put it on the bed. “I don’t know what’s going on or why you’re even calling this late.” It wasn’t like him. He was always controlled and collected. Just like Tray. When the men in my life started losing it, it didn’t sit well with me.
“No, you aren’t. Those fuckers have a lot of enemies. Doesn’t matter if they’re trying to keep their noses clean. I’ve tried warning you.”
“Are you threatening me?” I knew my dad loved me. But he also loved his club and at times, I felt like he loved it more.
“No, I am not threatening you, Zillah, but I am warning you. If you don’t come home, we’ll come after you and you won’t like it when we do.”
I quickly got dressed, grabbed the phone and turned off the speaker. “I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me, but you need to leave these guys alone. They have families.”
“And you think we don’t?” my dad yelled. “Fuck, Zillah. You’re not stupid. Once Tray is done with you, he’ll toss you around to the next guy who needs a fix. You’re young. He’s older than you. Fourteen years older, in fact.”
“No.” I left the room, needing to find Tray. I started walking down the hallway at the same time he came up the stairs. “He loves me,” I told my dad.
He chuckled. “Right, Zillah. And you love him back, I imagine.”
“I do,” I said, my voice firm. “I do love him.”
Tray closed the distance between us and pulled the phone from my hand. “Sorry, Zillah can’t come to the phone right now.” He raised an eyebrow. “Do you kiss those sluts of yours with that same filthy mouth?”
Under normal circumstances, I would have tried getting the phone back, but this wasn’t normal. Something was wrong. I had felt it for the past couple of days. I didn’t know any club business when it came to my father’s shit, but this wasn’t like him. At all.
“You see.” Tray grabbed my hand, leading me down the hall to the main floor of the house. “Zillah is safer here than she is anywhere else.” He paused in his steps, his gaze flicking to mine. “You know about that?”
My heart jumped.
“Did you have one of your fuckers …” He blew out a slow breath. “Yeah, well that’s even more of a reason for her to stay here. Do whatever the fuck you want to my house. It’s only a house.”
“Tray,” I said gently.
He shook his head. “Come find her, Shadow. I fucking dare you.” He hung up the phone and handed it back to me. “We need to talk to the guys.” He kept a firm hold on my hand and dragged me the rest of the way down the stairs.
I had to double up my steps to keep up with him. His stance was stiff. That muscle in his jaw that I had come to love, ticked.
“What’s going on?” I asked him.
“Your dad’s going to come looking for you.”
“What?” I grabbed his arm, stopping us from going any further. “Tray. I need to leave. I can’t have them here.”
“Zillah.” He turned toward me and cupped my cheek. “I refuse to give you up without a fight.”
“But you said—”
“I don’t give a shit what I said. I love you, do you understand me?”
“I can’t have anything happen to you or anyone else. You guys have already been through enough.” I latched on to his vest. “Please, Tray. Just let me go. I’ll come back. I promise I’ll come back.”
“No. There is no fucking way I’m letting you go. Not now. Not ever.” Tray grabbed my hand again and kissed my knuckles. “Nothing is going to take you away from me. Do you understand?”
“But—”
“I asked you a question,” he said, his gaze hard.
I nodded, swallowing past the lump that had lodged its way in my throat. But it still didn’t mean I wasn’t terrified. I should have left. I should have gone to my dad and made nice. Be the better person. No, I should never have left in the first place. Then Tray’s window wouldn’t have been smashed in. Then we wouldn’t have been followed.
“I think my dad knows about the pictures of us,” I told Tray once we made it to the large front room of the house.
“I think he had us followed,” Tray told me.
“I … I don’t know what to do. I brought this into your house,” I said just as Greyson came up to us.
“Yeah,” Greyson growled. “You did.”
Tray moved in front of me, shielding me from him. “Back off, brother.”
“No.” Greyson shoved him. “If it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t be in this mess. But you can’t help but think with your dick.”
“Yeah, because you’re any better?” Tray shoved him back, getting in Greyson’s face. “Should I remind you what happened when Eve showed up here for the first time? Huh? No? I suggest leaving this shit alone then.” Tray spun around, coming toward me. “I need a fucking smoke,” he mumbled.
“We need to stick together,” a larger man said, pushing off the wall. He was huge. With longer hair and dark eyes that held so much pain, they took my breath away. “I need you. All of you.”
“Well if this fucker wouldn’t have brought her here, then maybe this shit wouldn’t be on our doorstep and we could focus on finding your son.” Greyson popped the collar on his jacket. “But now we have more shit to deal with. All thanks to you, isn’t that right, Zillah?”
Tray brushed his fingers down my cheek and placed a kiss on my forehead. “Forgive me,” he whispered.
I frowned, not quite sure why he would be asking me for forgiveness when suddenly, he charged for Greyson.
Yelling sounded throughout the room.
Tray’s fists flew against Greyson’s face, the two men fighting like it had been years of pent-up frustration. The elastic band had finally snapped.
“Fuck, man.” Greyson threw punches of his own, finally shoving Tray onto his back. “Stop this. We need—”
“What the hell do we need, Greyson?” Tray struggled beneath him, but Greyson was larger. Much larger and Tray had been big all on his own.
I took a step toward him when a gentle hand landed on my shoulder. I looked up and found Catch standing beside me.
He shook his head.
I patted his hand and went to Tray and Greyson anyway. “I …”
All eyes were on me then. I realized that there were more men there than I had thought.
I swallowed hard, clearing my throat. “I went to see my dad yesterday.”
Greyson pushed himself from the floor, peering down at me with those cold calculating eyes of his.
But I refused to back down, so I stood straighter. “He showed me a photo of Tray and Catch.”
“What did you do?” Greyson asked me.
“What could I do?” I shrugged. “Whatever happened between them has nothing to do with me. But there are photos of me too and they got back to my father. He feels I’m not safe here and that Tray will pass me around once he’s done with me.” Bodies shifted around me, but I only continued. “I know that won’t happen. As much of an asshole as you are, I know you won’t hurt me.” I crossed my arms under my chest, staring up at him.
His deep blue eyes moved over my face before a chuckle escaped him. “You remind me of my wife.” He looked over my head. “You keep her here. She can stay but she stays in your room. Do you hear me?”
“Yes.” Tray came up behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders.
“Tell me what else you know,” Greyson demanded of me.
“I don’t know much. I’m the only female who hangs around that they don’t try and have sex with. But there’s a new club member. River Jones. I don’t think he would do anything but hell, I have no idea anymore.”
Greyson nodded, blowing out a slow breath. “We need this shit sorted. We need to find Butcher’s son.”
My eyes widened. “His son is missing?”
“Yeah, little one. He is.” The lar
ge man approached me. “His name is Samson.”
I thought a moment and called my dad.
“This better be you, Zillah,” he answered after the second ring.
“What do you know about a missing boy?” I asked instead.
There was a moment of silence. I actually thought he hung up.
“Hello?” I frowned.
“Zillah,” my dad murmured.
My heart jumped, my gaze moving back and forth between Greyson and Butcher. “Daddy?”
“You need to get out of there. Now, Zillah. Get the fuck out.” And with that, he hung up.
“I don’t … I don’t know what happened.” I pulled the phone from my ear. What the hell was going on?
Suddenly, the front door banged open.
Time seemed to slow down.
A popping sound started, the walls themselves seeming to almost explode with each hit. Shouting erupted into my ears when I was shoved forward and dragged to the nearby bar.
“Zillah.”
My name. Someone was yelling my name, but I couldn’t focus. My ears rang. Chaos unfolded in front of me. Men went down. Bodies huddled on the ground. Blood. So much blood.
“Zillah.” Rough hands cupped my cheeks forcing me to look up into Tray’s face. “Stay here, baby. Please stay here.”
I nodded even though I didn’t know what the hell was going on. Tray pushed away from me, leaving me alone behind the bar. Debris fell down around me, the mirror behind the bar counter shattering at the impact of each shot.
More shouting. More swearing.
But what tore at my soul was the screaming. So much screaming. The screams were so loud, I had to cover my ears. Please stop, please stop.
And then I realized the screams were coming from me.
AGONY TWISTED THROUGH me. My abdomen screamed with an insurmountable pain I had never felt before. But Zillah was safe. She was safe. That was all I cared about. She was screaming but safe. At least I knew she was still alive.
I couldn’t say that for the rest of us, though. I tried pushing myself up off the ground but couldn’t move. Fuck me. The searing pain was white hot. I had been punched before. Stabbed. Shot. But nothing compared to this. This was more. It was darker. It was deeper. My vision faded in and out. Shit. Was I dying? I couldn’t be. I needed to survive. For Zillah. If her father had a hand in this, I needed to survive to keep her as far away as possible from that bastard.
“Zillah,” I croaked which turned into a fit of coughs. Something metallic coated my tongue. Fuck me.
“Shit.” Greyson’s face came into view. He had a scratch on his cheek and some dirt on the other, but he was breathing. Thank fuck he was breathing. “You’ve been shot. Twice from what I can see. But it looks clean.”
“It hurts like a bitch.” I groaned, trying to sit up.
“Don’t move.” He applied pressure on the left side of my stomach. “Where’s Zillah?”
“Behind the bar.” I realized then that she was no longer screaming. “Shit. I need to go to her.” I tried moving but Greyson held me down.
“I’ll go to her.”
“Please, Greyson.” I rose to one elbow, pushing myself back until I hit the wall.
The gunshots had stopped but it didn’t mean that it was finished. It was just done for now. The aftermath of the attack was far worse.
“Tray.” A cough sounded, followed by a wheezing.
I turned, finding Butcher crawling toward me. My stomach sunk. “Butcher.” I rushed to his side as best I could, grimacing through my own pain.
He pushed himself to a sitting position and leaned against the wall.
I sat beside him, pressing my hand against a gaping wound in his side. “What the fuck kind of gun did they use?”
“A shotgun,” Butcher wheezed.
“Did you see who?” I pushed my hand firmer against his side.
He winced. “Mayhem.”
Fuck. My head whipped around. “Greyson.”
“She’s fine.” He pulled Zillah to her feet.
Her wide eyes met mine. “I’m fine,” she repeated.
“Stay there, Beauty,” I told her.
“You’ve been shot.” She rushed to me before Greyson could grab her.
“No. Zillah, you need to stay over there.”
“Like hell I do.” She pulled off her sweater and pressed it to my side. “You need the hospital. You both do.” She looked around us. “Where’s Catch? Where’s your wife?” She asked Greyson.
“Eve’s fine.” Catch came running toward us. “Her, Jaron, and Cyrus are in your room. Psycho and Sunny are standing watch.”
“Fuck me.” I had never been happier to see Catch than I was at that moment. “You’re fine. You’re alive.”
“You`ve been hit.” He dropped to his knees in front of us. “Both of you have.”
“You need the hospital,” Zillah repeatedly gently.
“I know.” I met Greyson’s gaze.
He nodded once. “Zillah, I need you to come with me.”
“What?” Her eyes widened. “No. I need to stay with you.” She grabbed my hands. “Please.”
I swallowed hard. “I need you to stay with Eve and the kids. You’ll be safer there. If your …” I coughed. “If your father did this shit. I don’t want you near any part of it.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “But …”
Greyson grabbed her under her arms and lifted her to her feet. She screamed, struggling against him but he was much larger, and lifted her like she weighed nothing.
She would be pissed at me. She probably would be for a long while, but I would rather that than for her to watch us kill her dad. Brother. And anyone else who got in our way. As much as I didn’t like it, they were her family. She grew up with them, but she also didn’t know any better.
“Guys.” Butcher coughed. “We need—I need you to find my son. Find Sammy. Please. For Trixie. For me.”
My head whipped around. “You’re not going anywhere, brother.” I grabbed his hand.
“I—” He coughed again, blood splattering his lips. “Yeah, I am.”
“No. You’re not. You’re strong. You got this. We got this. We’ll get you to a hospital.” I squeezed his hand. “Don’t you dare fucking give up on us. On your boys.”
Butcher cupped the wound in his side. “Kill them. Kill all of them and find my son.”
“Butch.” Greyson knelt beside him. “You …” His voice cracked. “You can’t leave us.”
“Well it looks like those bastards had other ideas for us.” Butcher cupped Greyson’s face. “You keep doing what you’re doing. Make Hell’s Harlem a better name for itself. Make Demitry proud.”
“Fuck me.” Grey’s eyes shone. “I can’t do this shit without you.”
“Trixie needs me.” Butcher’s eyes fluttered closed.
“No,” I yelled, grabbing onto his jacket and shook him.
His eyes popped open. They were glassy, his skin ashen.
“We need you. All of us need you. We need to find your boy. We need you with us. You need to move on. You … You …” Fuck me, I was rambling.
“Tray.” Catch cupped my shoulder.
“No.” I shoved him off.
“I love you guys,” Butcher whispered. “Take care of my boys.”
“We will.” My throat tightened. “Fuck, of course we will.”
“Trixie,” Butcher croaked, his eyes closing.
“Butcher.” I slapped his face. “Wake up. Wake the fuck up.”
Greyson pressed two fingers to his throat. “Shit, brother.”
“No.” I met Grey’s wide-eyed stare. “Don’t say it.”
Greyson swallowed noisily and then again. “He’s dead.”
(Zillah)
“You’re making me nervous. You’re making all of us nervous.”
I ignored Eve and continued pacing back and forth. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Besides the house getting shot at, there was something more. Something else. S
omething darker. Something more depraved and vile.
“I can’t stay in here.” I tried the door knob again, but it wouldn’t budge. “Eve, please. He’s your husband. Tell him I need out of here.”
Eve shook her head, holding her son against her. “I can’t do that.”
Cyrus only sat beside her. Silent and still. His eyes wide and unsure. I wondered if he knew that his twin was missing. Or that his father had been shot.
“Please, Eve. I need out. I can’t—” The door suddenly opened, revealing a disheveled Greyson. Blood was spattered on his white t-shirt. His eyes were dark and red rimmed. “Oh, God.” I clapped a hand to my mouth.
“What’s wrong?” Eve rushed to her husband’s side. “Tell me.”
He cupped her cheek. Coming further into the room, he walked to his dresser and pulled off his shirt. Grabbing a new one from one of the drawers, he slipped it over his head.
“Greyson.” Eve took the shirt from him and put it in the hamper. “Talk to us.”
He took Jaron from her arms. Holding him tight, he hugged his son against him.
“Greyson,” Eve whispered. “Tell me please.”
“Butcher,” Greyson croaked, shaking his head.
“Oh, no.” Tears ran down Eve’s cheeks.
“What happened to my dad?” Cyrus yelled, jumping from the couch.
“Shit.” Greyson handed Eve back their son, closed the distance between him and the boy, and pulled him into an embrace.
“Uncle Greyson.” Cyrus struggled in his arms. “Tell me. Where’s my dad? Where’s my brother?”
Greyson mumbled something to him.
Cyrus wailed, falling against him.
My knees gave out from beneath me. I landed on the floor, wrapping my arms around my middle. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t …” Sobs wracked through me that this family had lost another one of its members.
“No.” Greyson crouched in front of me. “It’s not your fault, Zillah. I’m sorry I said that before. But it’s not. These bastards had a hit already out on our house. It’s how they work.”
I met Greyson’s sad gaze then. “But it’s my family.”
“I know.” His jaw ticked. “You need to make a decision.”