by Sophia Gray
The hostage shook his head. He suddenly looked nervous. “I don’t know,” he stammered. “I don’t know! Damien didn’t say anything else!” His voice grew to a boyish, high-pitched wail.
“Come on,” I said in a deadpan voice. “Tell me who’s guarding them.”
“Damien is!” the hostage yelped quickly. “But he only took a couple of men with him! I think three. You could easily take them,” he added in a shaky voice, glancing around the garage. “You could easily overpower him! You’re stronger!” He was shaking and quivering and I could tell he thought we were going to kill him.
“Relax,” I said. “We’re not going to kill you.”
“You’re not?” The hostage looked up at me in disbelief.
“No,” I said shortly. “We’re just going to leave you here while we go storm the farm. Come on, guys.”
Ram and Eric followed me out to the bikes. The old farm the hostage had mentioned was about twenty miles outside of Centerville and surrounded by a forest on all sides. It would be tricky, and I wasn’t sure if we had enough time to get there.
“We have to get there by morning,” I told the guys. “You get that?”
Eric nodded. He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “We’re with you, brother,” he said gruffly. “Prez or no prez, we’re behind you all the way.”
Ram gave me a reassuring glance. “Eric’s right,” he said solemnly. “Come on. Let’s go get your family.”
As we mounted our bikes and rode out towards the Wilson farm, I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. What if it was too late? What if Angel and Chuckie were already dead? Nausea overtook me but I couldn’t stop to hurl on the side of the road. I had to get to them, and I had to get there as soon as possible. If anything happened to Angel, it would be my fault. And this time I knew I’d never be able to forgive myself.
Chapter 26
Angel
When Damien left, a wave of panic hit me like a tsunami. I was so scared I couldn’t even cry. My heart was pounding and convulsing in my chest and I didn’t think any amount of deep breathing would be able to calm me down. Chuckie was twisting and turning against his bonds. Every few seconds he’d let out a little whimper. The sounds had scared me at first but now they were almost reassuring because they let me know that he was still alive. I’d never been so afraid for me or my son.
Trey can’t be dead! I wanted to think, but I knew in this situation I was going to have to be a lot more pragmatic than that. What if Damien had been telling the truth? After he’d left, I’d mulled over the scenario in my head. I didn’t think it was likely, but I knew he’d probably gone out looking for me after I’d left. That would have put him alone, and easy bait for Damien’s men to catch.
I shuddered, thinking of what Damien had promised. I had no idea if he was actually going to kill me, but I knew I couldn’t take any chances. Without trying to attract any of Chuckie’s attention, I began clenching my hands into fists. After Damien had bound me, I hadn’t been able to move but I’d slowly been wiggling around until the bonds were looser. My hands hurt like hell and I could tell they were swollen, but after a few seconds of closing my eyes and straining as hard as I could, some of the life started to come back. I felt the blood flowing into my hands and I stretched and arched my back, desperately trying to loosen the ropes. Damien had bound us with a soft-corded rope, and it was almost slippery against my sweaty skin. I realized if I could just calm down, take deep breaths, and try to relax, I might stop sweating long enough for the rope to be untangled.
“Mommy, what’s going to happen now?” Chuckie looked up at me.
In the dim light of the basement, I could see tears reflected on his cheeks. With growing horror, I realized the sun would start to rise in a few hours. I realized if Damien meant what he’d said, I was really going to have to get away.
“Mommy’s busy right now,” I snapped at Chuckie, turning around and twisting my hands over and over. Even though the rope was smooth, it was burning my wrists raw and my eyes flooded with tears as I strained against the bonds. My back was aching and sore and my shoulder blades screamed in pain every time I shifted my body.
Chuckie looked up at me again. “Mommy, please,” Chuckie said softly. “Please, I’m scared.”
“Chuckie, I know you’re scared,” I said, feeling irrationally exasperated with my small son. “But we’re in this together, and Mommy has to work hard on trying to get out. You understand that, don’t you?”
Chuckie sniffled and nodded. “Is Daddy going to come save us?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” I told him honestly.
Chuckie’s eyes grew wide and he gasped but he didn’t say anything else. Finally, as I shifted to the left, I felt the rope around one of my wrists give. Almost immediately, the struggle became easier. I groaned loudly and finally tugged one of my arms free. My shoulder popped audibly as I pulled my arms back around and started massaging some of the blood back into my mangled, swollen hands. Even in the dimness of the room, I could see the skin was a ghostly pale — both from the rope burn and lack of blood flowing. Damn Damien, I thought with sudden anger that I hadn’t felt before. Damn him for hurting us and for scaring my son. Poor Chuckie.
I felt tremendously guilty for the way I’d snapped at him before.
“Chuckie, I’m really sorry,” I said softly. “Come here.”
He scooted closer to me on the floor and I picked him up with my aching arms and set him on my lap. His hands were bound behind his back and my fingers picked at the ropes. His bonds came free much more quickly than mine had, and in only a matter of minutes Chuckie was free.
“Do you think you can work on your ankles?” I was keeping my voice as low as I could.
“Yes, Mommy!” Chuckie cried loudly.
I shot him a sharp look. “We have to be really quiet. We have to be super quiet because we’re going to run away, okay?”
Chuckie nodded. I could sense again that he thought this was just a big adventure. I wasn’t even sure if he’d heard Damien when Damien had told us Trey was dead. Or maybe Chuckie just had more faith than I did. With a heart-stopping pause, I realized Chuckie hadn’t ever experienced death in his life before. Since we hadn’t grown up with the influence of my parents, he’d never experienced the typical “grandparent dying” that had been such a common experience during my elementary school years. By the time I’d been Chuckie’s age, I’d been to a handful of funerals. But Chuckie had no concept of death. We’d never even had a pet. He hadn’t even seen a goldfish die. I wondered if he knew death was permanent, something that couldn’t be changed.
“Did you hear Damien?” I asked, closing my eyes tightly and hoping Chuckie would say no.
“Yes, Mommy,” Chuckie said solemnly. “He said Daddy is dead.”
“He lied,” I said firmly. “Daddy’s not dead, okay? So don’t even think about that right now.”
Chuckie nodded. Some of his light brown hair was standing straight up in the air and I smoothed it down with one hand. He was so fragile, so vulnerable. I closed my eyes and thought about how we could escape.
Maybe I could break the chair apart and storm the upstairs, threatening to hurt myself unless the men let us go. But that wouldn’t work. Chuckie was fast, but he was a little kid and I was sure the men would be able to catch up with him easily. No, we wouldn’t be able to escape together.
Looking at the window, I squinted as hard as I could at the glass. It was grimy and smeared with dirt, but even from where I was sitting I could tell it was at least a few inches thick. There was no way I could break through glass that thick without something much sturdier than the leg of a chair.
A plan was slowly forming in my mind. I didn’t like the idea of it, but I was starting to realize that it was probably our only way out. I remembered how easy it had been to manipulate that friend of Trey’s back when I was under “house arrest.” All I’d had to do was tell him I needed to use the bathroom. I had a feeling whoever Damien’s guys were
, they’d easily fall for the same lie. After all, a pretty woman in distress who needs to use the bathroom…they wouldn’t want to humiliate me. Even if they were thugs, they wouldn’t want to clean up my piss from the basement floor.
Chuckie looked at me, almost as if he could read my mind. “What are you thinking about, Mommy?”
“I’m thinking of a plan to get us out of here,” I said softly. “But we can’t go together. You’re going to have to run when I tell you to run, okay?”
Chuckie looked up at me with big eyes. “Mommy, I’m scared,” he said. He squeezed my fingers with his tiny hands and a bolt of pain shot through my arm.
“Don’t be,” I said, gritting my teeth until the pain subsided. Having my hands bound for almost twelve hours had been incredibly painful, and I didn’t even want to know how swollen all of my fingers were by now. But the last thing I wanted to do was let Chuckie know how much pain I was feeling. I had a feeling he’d be even more terrified if he knew how badly I was hurting.
“Mommy, what are we going to do?”
I bit my lip. “We’re going to tell the men Mommy has to use the bathroom,” I said. “And when they let me through, I’m going to hit one of them over the head. When they try to grab me, I want you to run up the stairs and run out of the house. Chuckie, this is very important. I don’t care what direction you run in, but you need to keep running. You have to promise me you’re not going to stop or even turn around, okay? Even that will make you slow down.”
Chuckie nodded solemnly. I knew he would take my task seriously. He was the fastest runner in his class at school and he had some great, natural athletic ability.
“Remember what Coach Downs says?”
Chuckie nodded excitedly. He made a fist with one hand and held it in the air, striking a fierce karate pose. “I remember,” he said quickly. “I promise I’ll keep running, Mommy. I promise I won’t let you down.”
“We’re going to listen for a little while first,” I instructed Chuckie. “I need to count how many men are up there. Can you be quiet for Mommy?”
Chuckie nodded. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Even though I was starving and my blood sugar was low, the hunger I’d been feeling before Damien visited us had completely disappeared. It was replaced by something stronger, something more like adrenaline. Chuckie and I crawled over to the wall and leaned with our backs against the cold concrete. I closed my eyes and listened overhead.
There was one man stalking back and forth overhead — I could hear his heavy footsteps beating down on the floor like someone was dropping heavy groceries over and over again. Just as he walked away, I heard another, lighter footfall.
“I think there might only be two men,” I whispered, praying that the giant burly one wouldn’t be the one to come to the door. “I think we can handle that.”
More than anything, I wished I had a weapon. But I’d searched the room dozens of times, and the only thing there was that broken-down chair. Setting my lips in a thin line, I climbed to my feet and walked over to it. I wasn’t strong by any means, but the leg practically fell into my hands as soon as I grabbed it.
Chuckie giggled and clapped his hands. “Mommy, you’re strong!” he chirped, and I had to shoot him a look to silence him. “Sorry, Mommy. I forgot,” he added in a quieter voice.
I shook my head. “You can’t forget anything else, okay, buddy? You have to remember what I said. What did I say?”
Chuckie puffed up, looking suddenly important. “I have to run,” he said proudly. “I have to run away as fast as I can! And I can’t look back or stop running!”
“That’s right,” I said, a glimmer of pride creeping into my voice. “Now, are you ready to go?”
Chuckie nodded. My heart was in my throat as I crept up the stairs, holding the chair leg at my side, hidden in the darkness.
I knocked on the door as loudly as I could.
“What is it?” The voice behind the locked door was gruff and cold.
I shivered. “I’m sorry, but I really need to use the bathroom,” I said softly. “Please, it’s an emergency. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
“I don’t know, lady,” the voice said in reply. “Boss is gone. We ain’t supposed to let you out of the basement.”
I motioned for Chuckie to join me on the steps behind the door. He crept up behind me without a sound and the tiny bit of pride I’d felt exploded into radiance.
“Come on,” I begged. “Please! I really have to pee!”
There was a heavy sigh. “Fine,” the guy replied. “But this is our secret, okay? You can’t tell boss about this. He’ll kill me!”
Well, he’ll kill me if I don’t get out! I thought in frustration. But I didn’t say anything, and before a few seconds had passed I heard a key jamming into the lock. The knob turned and the door slowly swung backwards and opened. I closed my eyes and swung the wooden chair leg up and at the guy with all of my might. He didn’t even see it coming, and it connected sharply with his skull. I darted to the side and Chuckie pushed past me, running through the house. I heard him screaming, followed by a gunshot, but Chuckie’s light footfall kept going and I knew he’d made it out unharmed.
“What’s the big fuckin’ idea?” The guy looked at me, rubbing his head. I swung the wooden chair leg at him again and again until he crumped to a pile of muscle and fat at my feet. Elated, I tried to push past him.
Then, I heard a familiar voice and my whole body went cold.
“So, you thought you could run away from me?”
Chapter 27
Trey
As we rode, the wind whipped at my hair. The night had been black as anything a few hours ago, but now the sky was streaked faintly with pink and lavender — dawn was coming. My heart hardened in my chest. If we didn’t move quickly, Angel would be lost and gone forever. And our son, Chuckie. If anything happened to him, I’d never be able to forgive myself. Angel was a resourceful girl and I had to hope she’d somehow managed to find a way out of this trap. But Chuckie would hold her back; even though he was strong and skinny for an eight-year-old, I knew he wouldn’t be able to run as fast as a grown man.
I shuddered. The end was coming, no matter how it went down. It was all gonna be over soon. Sensing we were close to the farm, I slowed down and stopped on the side of the road.
Ram and Eric looked at me. “Boss, what’s going on?”
I couldn’t help but feel a small touch of pride when they called me boss, even though I’d stepped down. It was such a tremendous sign of respect and it meant so much to me. Between that and missing Angel and Chuckie, I was feeling more emotional than I had any right to feel as a man. Leader of an MC or no, I was still a man. And my family, my kryptonite, was in danger.
“We gotta park our bikes here,” I said. “If Damien hears us ride up, who knows what he’ll do. You get that, right?”
They both nodded. Together, we wheeled our bikes off the road and covered them with some brush. The forest we were in was dark and dense, and thick with evergreen trees. As soon as we were past the road, it seemed darker than ever. I was almost glad for the early morning light.
Something sharp and fierce hurt my chest, causing me to suck in my breath. I realized what it was: the last time I’d been out at the old Wilson farm, I’d been with Angel. Damien must have known. He must have known all along that we’d gotten back together and he wanted to rub it in my face. It was just like him to be so petty, to be unable to forget the past. I shook my head. I thought I’d had trouble moving on from Angel, but now it seemed like Damien had even more.
He’d always been like this. He’d always had a chip on his shoulder, always felt like the world was out to get him. When Angel smiled at me, I saw sunshine and diamonds sparkling. But when she smiled at Damien, he saw a hot girl who was his ticket out of the world. I shook my head in disgust. I had to believe part of the reason he was attracted to Angel was because of her background. When we’d first gotten together, he’d brought it up a
lmost every chance he got.
“So, that girl is moneyed, huh?” Damien eyed me. He took a long slug of the beer that we’d stolen from his parents’ kitchen before passing me the bottle.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, taking a long swallow and passing the bottle back. It was nearly empty at this point. I wasn’t used to drinking much, and I was already tipsy after sharing the whole six-pack. Damien had been sneaking beer since he was fourteen, but now we were seventeen and I still felt like a little kid next to him.
“The fuck it doesn’t matter,” Damien said. He belched loudly. “You realize if somethin’ bad happens, her parents are gon’ bail her out no matter what. If you marry her, the same thing’ll happen to you.”