by Claire Adams
“Who is he?” I asked.
“He’s my second,” Godwin replied at last.
I nodded. “He’s the new second.”
“Yes.”
“Are you saying he ordered this?”
Godwin took another swig of his beer. “Ghost… has a mind of his own most of the time. I should never have made him my second. He tends to have an impulsive streak.”
“He’s taken my sister.”
“I’ve been hearing noise about this woman for the past few weeks now,” Godwin said tiredly. “Is that who she is?”
“Your fucking second abducted her,” Devon said, taking a step forwards.
I put my hand out to stop him coming any further. “Easy,” I whispered to Devon. “We need to stay calm.”
Godwin was watching us closely, but I sensed that he wasn’t in the mood for any of this to escalate. I kind of got the feeling that he was past the fights and the turf wars and the violence that came with this life. He didn’t know anything else, however, so he was bound by obligation and necessity to stay with his club until the last. Obviously, he still had a group of men who were loyal to him.
“If Ghost ordered the abduction, then he did so without my orders,” Godwin replied. “He’s been a little out of control lately.”
“Apparently,” I nodded. “You used to have better control over your men, Godwin.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, but he didn’t take the bait. “Control is a young man’s game, it seems. And I no longer have an interest in controlling this club.”
“What kind of leader says that?” I demanded, shocked that he would admit that out loud.
“The dying kind,” Godwin replied. “I have only a couple of months left to live, and I’m not going to spend it trying to reign in a young buck with a reputation to build. He wants this woman…. your sister… then I’m not about to tell him he can’t have her.”
I clenched my jaw. He was dying. That made sense. It explained his disinterest in all the politics that were going on. He was preparing for death, and in doing so, he had distanced himself from life. A part of me almost felt pity for him, but I realized I had got the revenge I had craved. Not only was he dying, but he also knew it was coming soon, and he had no choice but to sit and wait for it.
“You didn’t know his plans then?” I asked.
“I had no fucking clue,” Godwin said.
“Why should we believe you?” Devon demanded.
“I don’t give a fuck whether you assholes believe me or not,” he said impatiently. “The only thing I’m interested in is drinking myself to death before the cancer kills me.”
“Fine,” I said. “You’re dying, and you want no part in this feud.”
“Smart boy.”
“I’m still going after your second.”
“Be my guest,” Godwin said, raising his beer glass. “And may the better man win.”
“Where is he?” I asked.
Godwin downed his beer mug and smashed it on to the table. Then he started laughing. “What makes you think I’m going to tell you that?” he said. “I may not have ordered his actions, and I may not have known about them, but I’m certainly not going to out him. After all, he’s still my man.”
I looked closely at his eyes, and I realized that he was bluffing. He had lost complete control of the man they referred to as Ghost. Not only had he not known about his plans, he didn’t even know where he was. Ghost had split the Knights, and probably more than half of them were loyal to him now. Godwin was just a figurehead who was wasting away right in front of them. He would be dead soon, and then Ghost would be in charge.
We had to move fast, not just for Mila’s sake, but for the town’s sake too. Ghost hadn’t rallied his men yet; the Lucifer’s Knights were split down the middle. He was still just the second trying to gain respect and rule by fear so that when Godwin did die, his word would be law. He hadn’t fully mobilized yet, and that meant this was the perfect time to strike at his power base so that he couldn’t rally after Godwin’s death.
I turned to my men. “Let’s go,” I said. “We’re done here.”
The moment we were back outside, Devon got in my face. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked. “We could have beaten the location out of that old fucker.”
“It wouldn’t have done any good,” I said. “He doesn’t know where Ghost is.”
“How do you know?”
“It was in his eyes,” I replied. “We’re going to have to find this fucker on our own.”
“It might be too late by then,” Devon said.
I looked him in the eye. “Don’t underestimate your sister. She’s stronger than you think she is.”
Chapter Thirty
Mila
The room they had kept me in was a tiny, ugly space with a large bed that took up half the room. They had handcuffed me to the headboard, so I could only really stretch within the confines of the bed. My hands ached, but I knew there was no way I was going to get out of the handcuffs. It had been hours now since they’d brought me into the house.
It was most definitely a house somewhere secluded. They had me blindfolded the whole way though, so I knew nothing specific. The blindfold had only come off once I had been securely fastened to the headboard of the bed. I had screamed and shouted for a little while, but no one had paid me any attention. Every time I heard a sound, I would jump, wondering if this was the moment when Walter would walk through that door and end me.
I wasn’t exactly sure what his plan was. Was he just toying with me before he tortured me? Was he even in the house? Was he hoping to lure Zack and the Angels out here? I had no clue. He still hadn’t made an appearance, and I had to believe it was because he had a reason. Maybe it was all just a form of mental torture. Sometimes I felt my mind slip a little. I started to think of all the different ways I might die at his hands, and I realized that this was precisely what he would want.
So instead I changed my thoughts, and I started to think of all the ways I could get out of this situation. Mila, I told myself, if you survive this you have to do more with your life. You have to be stronger, you have to fight harder, and you have to be braver. You have to take risks, and most importantly you have to be honest with yourself about what you need and what you want.
I closed my eyes and imagined myself as the shy and insecure ten-year-old I had once been. The image produced a memory, and I felt myself being transported back thirteen years ago when I’d lived in a small house around the corner from a known crack den.
“Mom?” I said, peeking around the corner.
She wasn’t paying attention. She was wearing a mini skirt she had owned as a teenager. It was black and white with stripes down the sides. She had paired it with a gold halter, and she looked crazy… to me at least. She was sitting on a man’s lap. I had never seen him before, and the sight of him turned my stomach. He was tall and bearded, and I noticed he wore a lot of jewelry. He had three chains around his neck, several beaded bracelets around his wrists, and a gold ring on his left hand.
He was whispering something to her, and she was laughing as though it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. As he whispered to her, his hands kept traveling up her leg until it disappeared underneath her skirt. I froze for a moment, wondering if I should announce my presence or slink back into my room.
My main problem was that I was hungry. I had been so absorbed with my school science project, and I was so determined to do a good job on it, that I’d spent hours working on it, and I’d forgotten to make some noodles for dinner. Mom never did the cooking, so I had to resort to quick and easy meals for lunch and dinner.
If I hadn’t been so hungry, I would have turned around and walked away back to my room, but my stomach growled uncomfortably, and I knew I needed something to satiate the ache in my belly.
“Mom?” I said again.
This time the man heard me, and he pulled away from Mom’s neck with a start. His hand slipped out of her skirt, and I
was thankful for that.
“Mila,” Mom said, and her tone was clear in an instant. She hated being interrupted. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“Who’s this?” the man asked.
He was a huge man, and I took a step back from him, afraid to get too close. I didn’t like the way he looked at me. It was almost a leering glance, and the smile that played across his face made me forget my hunger for a moment.
“I… uh… this is my daughter,” Mom replied, after a lot of hesitation. I wondered if that meant she was embarrassed by me.
“You didn’t tell me you had a kid.”
“Well, you didn’t ask.”
He smiled at her and then bit her ear. “I was only interested in one thing when I set eyes on you.”
Mom giggled like a schoolgirl, and I felt my face react to the sound, but I forced my expression back blankness.
“Oh you,” she said, hitting him gently on the chest. “You’re so bad.”
“I hope you are too.”
“What do you think?” she asked.
“Oh, I think you’re a wildcat.”
“Smart boy,” she said.
She turned her attention back to me reluctantly. “Why are you here?” she asked sternly.
“I was hungry,” I said.
“Hungry?” she repeated, as though the very idea shocked her. “It’s past twelve.”
“I was up working on my science project.”
Mom raised her eyebrows. “You were working on something for school?”
“Yes.”
“Oh…”
“You got a smart kid,” the man said.
“I don’t know where she gets it from,” she said. “Honey… you need to spend less time studying and more time making friends. You’ll be a woman in a few years, and you’re not going to be able to attract a man.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” the man said. “With a mother like you, she’s bound to turn out all right.”
It was almost a nice compliment, except the smile that accompanied it made my stomach turn again.
“Well, get something from the fridge then,” Mom said dismissively. “I’m going to show my friend around the house.”
By that, of course, she meant she was going to show him her room. She grabbed his hand and dragged him away, and I was left alone in the kitchen. I went to the fridge and got out the cold mashed potatoes we’d had for lunch the previous day, but I realized that I’d completely lost my appetite all of a sudden.
The next morning when I walked into the living room with my science project in tow, the man was sitting on the couch with a towel wrapped around his waist and his legs resting on the coffee table.
“Hello there,” he greeted.
I didn’t reply.
“Where are you off to?” he asked.
I paused for a moment. “School,” I said.
“Oh, right… what’s today?”
“Friday.”
“Right,” he nodded. “Right. Your mother’s sleeping.”
I didn’t reply.
“You look a lot like her, you know,” he said. “Say, how old are you?”
I didn’t want to answer, but I felt like I had to. “Ten,” I replied.
“Ten, huh…. that’s young.” Then he smiled at me. “Come here for a second, and let me look at your project.”
He was staring at me intently, and though the last thing I wanted was to be anywhere near him, I found myself walking towards him with the project I’d spent all night making. He didn’t even look at it though. His eyes were fixed on my face. He reached out and touched my cheek, and I wanted to scream.
“You’re pretty,” he said.
I didn’t say a word. I just turned around and walked out of the house and towards the bus stop that would take me to school. From that day onwards, his eyes had followed me through his entire relationship with my mother. And from that moment on, I had a deeply ingrained fear of men. In some ways, it had crippled my life and forced me into bad decisions. It had skewed my perception of men and made me choose ones that appeared strong but were weak in nature.
I could see all my mistakes take shape in front of me, and it hurt to realize that I could have easily prevented all this if I’d had the strength and the courage to demand better for myself. Be stronger, fight harder, and be braver.
I was repeating this refrain to myself when I heard slow footsteps outside my door. I held my breath and waited, wondering if Walter would walk into the room, but when the door opened, the man who walked in was someone I didn’t recognize. He was an older man with a slight hunch. He was almost comically cartoonish. His eyes were gray and seedy, and he had a hooked nose that nearly touched his mouth.
He walked in slowly with a tray of food and a glass of water. He set it down on the bedside table that faced the door and pushed it towards me.
“You should eat,” he said in a reedy voice that was not unkind.
“How am I supposed to eat?” I demanded. “I’m handcuffed to the bedpost.”
He dug into his pocket and produced a small key. “Are you left handed or right handed?”
“What?” I asked, in confusion.
“Which hand do you eat with?” he asked. “I was instructed to set your eating hand free so that you could eat. When I come back to collect the empty tray, I have to cuff both hands to the bedpost.”
“Who are you?” I asked, furious at how sadistic Walter’s instructions were.
“No one you know.”
“Why are you keeping me here?” I demanded.
“I’m not keeping you here,” he said, and he actually sounded insulted by that.
“Then who is?”
“Ghost.”
“Walter Black?” I asked.
“That’s just one of his aliases.”
I gulped inwardly. “Where is he?”
“Around.”
The man was looking at me sympathetically, and I returned his gaze imploringly. “What does he want with me?”
“I don’t know,” he sighed. “I don’t think it’s going to be pleasant, however.”
“Why is he keeping me here like this?”
“I don’t know,” the old man replied. “He doesn’t share his plans with me. I just take care of the house for him. I’m going to un-cuff you now.”
I thought about attempting to knock him out when he was un-cuffing my right hand. That way I could grab the key, free myself, and get the hell out of here. He seemed to know what was running through my mind.
“This house is full of his men,” the old man told me. “You’ll never get out of here alive if you cross him. Don’t make this harder on yourself than it needs to be.”
I felt my resolve weaken instantly. He freed my right hand, and I edged closer to the bedside table where the tray lay. It was still incredibly difficult to eat and drink that way, but that was exactly what Walter wanted. He wanted to punish me.
“Drink some water… you look weak,” the man told me.
“Being abducted will do that to you,” I responded.
He turned to leave, and I cried out after him. “No… wait.”
He stopped and turned back to me.
“Please… please… you have to help me.”
“I would if I could,” he responded. “But I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because he would kill me,” the man replied. “He would literally kill me.”
“You’re scared of him?” I asked.
“I’m smart enough to be scared of him,” the man nodded. “And you should be, too. Just go along with whatever he wants, and you’ll be all right. Be smart.”
“Please,” I tried again. “Isn’t there something you can do for me? Can’t you at least… un-cuff both hands?”
The man paused as though he were considering it. Then, he shook his head. “I’m sorry, girl,” he said. “It’s my life or yours, and given the choice, I have to save my skin first.”
I closed my
eyes, and a second later, I heard the door close. He was gone, and I knew I was alone once again.
Chapter Thirty-One
Zack
The table slammed against the wall, and I saw a piece of wood splintering off. I felt a tiny moment of satisfaction before it was replaced by frustration once more. Justin and Bones were with me, and they stared at the table like they were mourning a friend.
“What?” I demanded of them.
“Nothing,” Justin said, holding up his hands as though I had turned a gun on him.
“You need to calm down,” Bones said.
“Fuck that,” I spat. “I’ve been calm for two full fucking days… ever since they took her. Now it’s time to panic.”
“We’re still looking,” Bones pointed out.
“And we haven’t been able to find a damn thing,” I said. “Wherever he’s taken her, it’s somewhere off the grid. Which means she’ll have to find a way to let us know where she is… otherwise—”
“She could also escape?” Justin said.
“On her own?” Bones said, looking at Justin as though he were crazy.
“Why the fuck not?” Justin asked. “She’s a strong fighter, and she’s smart. You’re both underestimating her. Trust me, I did too, if you recall, and she broke my nose for it.”
“This is different,” I said angrily. “Walter Black is not a boy with mediocre skill.”
Justin bristled at that. “I’m not a fucking boy… and my skill is not mediocre.”
Bones put a hand on Justin’s shoulder as though to get him to stand down. He turned to me with sympathetic eyes. “We’re all worried, Zack,” he said. “We all care about Mila, too.”
I knew this was true, but it still didn’t feel the same. It felt like losing Mila had turned my world upside down. Knowing she was no longer with us was one thing. Knowing she was in the hands of an enemy was a completely different thing altogether. I was starting to grow desperate in the face of the knowledge that I was powerless in this situation.
“Zack—”
“Fuck!” I yelled. “The man’s a fucking psychopath. He could be doing anything to her right now. She could be dead for all we know.”
“She’s not dead,” Bones said confidently.