It rolls to a complete stop and the side door slides open.
Raif, my brother, spills out and immediately begins stalking over to us. He ignores Gage completely, which isn’t an action I’m used to. He used to ignore me.
But now, he reaches me and picks me up in his large arms, crushing me as he swings me back and forth. My legs dangle uselessly and my back screams from the pressure. For a hug from my brother, I’ll ignore the black and gold pops behind my closed eyes.
I mean, we’re in the midst of a mark-your-calendar occasion. I’d swear in a court of law this man, who never even cried when our father died, has tears in his eyes. “Jesus, Liv. Don’t you ever leave us again.”
“I… won’t,” I choke out, then cough.
“You’re crushing her.” Gage rips me from my brother’s arms.
Don’t you ever leave us again.
He’d said it.
I’d heard it.
If anyone had asked me ten minutes ago if my brother cared for me, I’d have answered with a resounding no. Then I would have quietly followed it with one word: indifference.
My brother always treated me with indifference. Our relationship eked along as a series of technicalities.
When he stood up for me as kids, it happened because Gage cared, and technically, I was Raif’s sister, so he needed to protect precedence laid down by the club.
It was never about me personally.
When Gage proclaimed his love for me, and Raif blew a gasket, that one happened because Gage never sought his permission to date me.
Rules of the club. Inside those walls, men owned all, even the women. Which meant, again technically, being Raif’s half-sister, he owned me.
It had never been about love or loyalty.
Or so I thought.
Now, though, I see that maybe I’ve been wrong. About all of it. He tried to tell me—oh, god, Gage tried to tell me so many times that they’re a new Lords. That they’re a club of men who love their women. Women matter. I was just too stubborn to listen.
“Her back.” Insinuating himself between us, Gage pulls me from my brother’s arms as he reminds him of my injuries.
Suddenly, and for no explicable reason as I’ve been strong all this time, my eyes begin to fill with tears and my feet falter, legs going weak.
“Come on, baby,” Gage whispers in my ear, holding me until I feel strong enough to walk. “It’s almost over.”
I bite my lip and nod as I let him lead me by the hand the twenty steps back to the van.
Hero drives. Blue sits in the passenger seat.
“Hey, guys,” I say casually with a small wave.
God, I feel stupid, like I owe them all a huge apology. But how do I apologize for having a mental breakdown?
Sorry I went crazy and you had to follow me? Whatever. I shake the thought away as Gage hefts himself inside the back of the van first. He sets the rifle on the floor, then holds his arms out to me as my brother helps me inside next. I’m positioned on Gage’s lap, so my shoulder touches his chest, and I can rest my head against his shoulder. Keeping the pressure off my back. Always so thoughtful. How did I ever think I could forget this man? Raif steps up inside and rolls the door shut.
Hero pulls a three point u-ie and we speed off down the road back the way they came.
Twenty minutes pass before we turn down the dirt drive of, well, it looks like a small prison. A square, cement building set back on the forested property past the gate attached to a chain-link fence. Coiled barbed wire lines the whole perimeter.
“Where are we?” I ask while craning my neck to get a better look out the window.
Hero pulls us up to the gate. I see two cameras reposition themselves—one at the van, one at Hero.
“Where are we?” I demand to know with a little more force.
As we park, a man emerges from a cement side building I can only see from this side of the fence. The man looks military in head-to-toe camo. He’s wearing an olive drab vest with puffy pockets filled with God only knows what. A buzz-cut head of gray hair. Boots almost exactly like the boots I’m sporting. And guns. Guns with an s. Strapped in a holster to his leg, slung around his body by a strap.
“Where are we?” I whisper for the third time, straight up panicked.
Even though just about all Lords carry, this guy looks like the commander of one of those doomsday out-there militias. Guns in the hands of crazies, never good. I’ve had a lifetime fill of guns in the hands of crazies.
Blue and Hero hop out, followed by Raif, who offers me his hand to help me down. Gage brings up the rear. His hands to my shoulders, he positions me to face the militia man, because it’s obvious we’re supposed to meet him. Smoothly, Gage moves his arms from my shoulders to wrap around me protectively.
“John,” Raif starts. “This is my sister, Liv. And her man, my best friend, Chaos.”
John nods at me. Not to me, but at me. It sounds weird, but there’s a difference. To would mean to welcome me. At, at basically acknowledges my corporeal body standing before him, that I’m not some imaginary friend.
“You a brother?” the man asks Gage.
“Yes, sir.”
“She cook?” he bizarrely asks Gage next.
Gage holds me a bit tighter. “Yeah.”
“Well, she’s pretty enough, but you might want to upgrade. Narrow hips. Might not be able to push out very many babies.”
My mouth drops open, though he continues right on through. “She expires, you can get yourself another. Not like bitches are hard to come by.”
I gasp. Who wouldn’t in my place?
“You can head into the kitchen, got one of you in there cooking,” he tells me.
I catch my breath, hoping to control my temper. Where did they find this guy? But I grew up in a misogynistic club, so I bite my tongue and pull away from Gage to head inside the house.
John grabs my arm. “You’re a guest in my house. Women know their place. Not like that bitch who thinks she’s a doctor. Like any woman is smart enough to be a doctor.”
I turn to Gage and mouth, get me out of here.
Jaw clenched and with gritted teeth, he nods once.
18.
Livvy
“What are you two doing here?” As happy as I am to see the women—one chopping vegetables at the counter and the other stirring a pot on the stove—I frown to see Elise and oddly enough, Dr. Brennan. It’s odd to think of someone as surly as Duke ending up with the likes of her. Their friendly faces and warm smiles are a welcoming yet disquieting presence, considering Houdini wants Elise and baby Gun. “You didn’t bring Gun, did you?”
The kitchen makes me think I’d been right with my initial assumption of the property. We we’re either in an old prison or school. Large, white cement tiles. White walls. The counters are made up of stainless steel tables. Same with the stove. There’s a walk-in fridge the likes of which I’ve only seen in restaurant kitchens. Ultra-bright overhead lights wash the space in white and until my eyes adjust, it feels like looking directly into the sun.
“No. And I know what you’re thinking…” Elise pauses for a long moment. “But I had to come, Liv. When I saw… I mean, shit, the things he was doing to you, I couldn’t stay at the compound.”
Guilt suffuses my entire being. She’d been safe at the compound. “You were safe there. This isn’t a joke. He’s not going to bother with the elaborate tricks this time. God, Elise, you shouldn’t have come.”
Elise turns back to slicing up rounds of carrot, bottom lip pulled into her mouth. I’ve hurt her feelings and that’s the last thing I meant to do. But Houdini is capable of hurting so much more than that.
Well, she’s here now, nothing to be done about it. So I do the only thing left in my power. I walk to her and wrap my friend in a tight, tight hug. Her arms so constricted to her sides that she couldn’t even put down the knife. “Thank you,” I say, full of earnest sincerity. “I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you too, you dum
b bitch.” She’s laughing and has tears in her eyes.
“Whoa, seems motherhood turned you soft,” I tease. Elise had never been a crier. A whiner, yes. A complainer, sure. But not a crier.
“That’ll do it,” Dr. Brennan says. “Hi, Livvy.”
“Hi, Dr. Brennan. It’s good to see you again.”
“It’s ‘Caitlin’ or ‘Caity.’ I’m an old lady now you know.”
“Yes, I’ve heard. Congratulations. Duke’s a lucky man.” I pick up a slice of mushroom and pop it in my mouth, chewing slowly.
“He is, isn’t he?” she replies, but as soon as she does, her smile and light demeanor drop for business Dr. Brennan to show through. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve brought my bag and despite what that troglodyte who owns this place thinks, I’m a good doctor and I’d like to check you over. Blood would like me to check you over.”
“Yeah, sure. That’s no problem.” I don’t really want her to see the marks Michael and Houdini have left on me. It’s humiliating, even with the understanding that he’d videoed the whole thing. I’d brought it all on myself by leaving and that’s exactly what she’ll be thinking when she examines me. I’m that stupid woman who went and got herself kidnapped not once, but three times. Twice by the same sick mind.
Rather than let me wallow in said humiliation, Elise throws a piece of carrot at me. “Troglodyte is right. I half expected him to sit me in the corner until I was spoken to.”
Dr. Bren—er—Caitlin rolls her eyes. “He told me women aren’t smart enough to be doctors. I need to know my place.”
“Ha,” I bark out. “He wouldn’t even talk to me. He told Gage my hips are too narrow to give him lots of babies, but if I die, there’s plenty of other bitches around for him to pick from.”
“Okay,” Elise starts. “Change of plans. Defeat Houdini once and for all, then destroy the troglodyte.”
The women sound like Wilma Flintstone and Betty Rubble giggling. Although I’d love to join them, I’m still sore from the whipping and laughing hurts. They give me sad eyes. If it’s one thing I hate, it’s pity. But I don’t think that’s what their sad eyes are about.
Elise clears her throat. “Right. I got this. Cait, go ahead, get her checked.” Then she turns to me. “We’ll get through this.”
Caitlin sets the spatula down after giving the sautéing veg one last flip, then turns to leave, tugging on my shirtsleeve as she passes for me to follow, which I do. I’d been so excited to find Chaos, escape the potential rapist and meet up with my brother and the other Lords, I forgot that I’ve been doing it all without a bra or panties on.
In a long man’s T-shirt and oversized combat boots, that’s how I let Raif hug me, spinning me around. How I greeted the brothers. How I was introduced to the troglodyte. The tips of my ears heat with what I’m sure is embarrassment. I’m a mess and she’s going to check me.
Through the doorway of the kitchen we enter into a wide hallway. Same ultra-bright lights as the last room. No windows. Well, there probably are windows, but they’ve been blacked out. That doesn’t seem safe, although troglodyte probably uses cameras to monitor every square inch of this place. So I freeze.
Caitlin stops with me. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Is the whole place monitored? I mean, will they see you check me?”
“No. There are no-camera zones. The bedrooms and baths. I’ll take you to the room you and Chaos will share.” She leads me to a closed-off stairwell, which we climb to the second floor. On the opposite end of where we enter, she steers me into a modest-sized room. Windows blacked out, but there are standing lamps that give off a yellow light when flicked on.
The space is very hospital. I can’t complain. Gage and I will have a bed to sleep in, not on the floor or stained with giant brown spots. This’ll work for the time being.
But… “I’m naked under the shirt,” I tell Caitlin. I know she’s another woman and a doctor, but I don’t want to be completely naked.
She laughs. “We weren’t sure what state they’d find you in. Once Elise and I were done being yelled at for leaving the safety of the compound by every member of the club that’s here and twice by Duke and Boss, the one fieldtrip they let us take from this place was to a discount store.” She walks over to a drawer that looks more like an old file cabinet, beat up and beige, and pulls a three pack of undies, a utilitarian bra and socks from the top. From the second drawer she pulls a bright yellow tank top and black yoga pants.
“Go ahead and slip on a pair of panties,” she says. “But leave the bra. I need to check your back. Sit on the edge of the bed first so I can check your heart and lungs.”
Apparently, when she said check me, she meant check me.
“Okay, sure.” Then I tear open the plastic packaging, unfold a pair of white cotton panties and slip them on under my T-shirt. Tossing the rest of the package onto the bed, I pull the shirt off, holding it to cover my bare breasts.
She’d been prepared for my arrival. Her bag sits on the floor next to the bed. She opens it, reaches inside and brings out a stethoscope and other typical doctoring tools that I don’t know the names of.
“Good. Good. Good,” she says, putting down one instrument and picking up another. I’ve breathed in and out. Eye check. Ear check. Throat check. And even blood pressure. From there she moves to manipulating my arms at the shoulders and elbows, and legs at the knees and ankles. “Go ahead and lie down on your stomach.”
Manipulating my arms and legs pulls at the skin on my back. The skin still feels tight there, like when a sunburn heals.
I lay down flat then flinch when her cold hands touch my back. She moves her way down slowly, checking every spot, even rolling the panties down just far enough to check my buttocks. “Superficial cuts. No signs of infection so far,” she says. The lash marks are red, like carpet burns. “I’m just going to spray you down with some bacitracin to prevent any possible infection from developing. Once it soaks into your skin, you can pull the clean shirt on.”
From her bag she produces a blue aerosol can and pops off the lid. The spray cools my back, leaving goosebumps all over. After a five-minute wait time, she hands me my tank top.
While putting away her goodie bag, she casually asks, “Liv, as your doctor, I have to ask this. Did either of those men force themselves on you?”
Sneak attack. Provide a safe space, get me to trust her, then—bam! I huff out a harsh breath. “No. Michael was headed that way. But it wasn’t about that for Houdini.”
Caitlin still has the stethoscope she picked up to pack away in one hand when she stops, other hand to her hip, to scrutinize me. “You wouldn’t lie to me?” she asks.
My shoulders straighten so I can look her in the eyes. “No, of course not.”
“Good. So are you up for some revenge on the asshole?”
What? Sneaky sneak attack. “Revenge?” I ask, curiosity heightened.
“Elise and I have a plan.”
“My guess, the men won’t like it.”
“Oh, girl, the men are going to hate it.” We break out in a round of giggles. Yes, giggles.
I wipe at my eyes. “Then I’m in.”
Much later, after dinner and once we’re in bed, I wait for Gage to fall asleep. He likes to hold me at night, which makes sneaking away difficult. Quietly as I can, I slip out from under his arms, then into my yoga pants and socks, pull the sweatshirt over my head and slide on the sneakers.
This is it. I creep out of our room, meeting Caitlin and Elise wearing similar gear in the hallway. They lead me to the stairwell. None of us speaks. Too risky. It’s dark, but the hallway is lit by greenish-hued LED security lights spaced intermittently along the floorboards. I’m worried about the cameras. A place like this will most likely have alarms. If we trigger an alarm, it’s all over. All over.
Inside the stairwell, Elise turns to me. “We’ve taken care of it. Just follow us, step where we step.”
As cryptic as she sounds, I nod and follow them
down to the first floor. Elise opens the door to complete darkness. “Chain-link,” she says. I feel a hand grab hold of mine and guide it to a back, probably Caitlin’s. When I grab on to the fabric of her shirt, her hand drops. I assume she does the same to Elise. Our train moves from the stairwell, and to be honest, I have no idea where they’re leading me.
We enter inside a room. It’s chilly inside, making me think kitchen. But like the hallway, it’s cloaked in complete darkness. Instead of taking steps, my feet shuffle along the floor. Before I reach it, there’s a click and moonlight filters in through a doorway. Outside.
“What now?” I whisper as Caitlin presses her finger to her lips in that universal shh…
Elise whips out the sat phone. How did she get that? Gage had the sat phone. She presses a few buttons and the GPS kicks on. She takes off running from the back of the property. No one stirs in the house. No lights flick on. No men rush out yelling or cursing. We might have just gotten away with this.
With the troglodyte’s prison far enough behind us, I bypass the sat phone question for the more important one. “How do you know where to go? What coordinates are you following?”
“Houdini sent those videos from a text. I copied the number.” Elise apparently has the skills.
“If he sent it from a traceable line, don’t you think there’s a reason for that?”
“Yeah. But he won’t be expecting the two of you,” she says. “I texted him, told him that if he let you go, I’d give myself over to him.”
“I don’t—”
“To make him think we don’t know where you are.” Caitlin. The ‘duh’ apparent in her voice. “We don’t think he knows I’m here. And with Elise thinking you’re still locked up, he thinks he’s getting away with it.”
“How are we going to stop him?”
Elise pauses to unzip the small duffle she had slung over her shoulder. Elise Hollister is packing serious heat.
“I know you know how to shoot,” she says to me. “Duke has had Caitlin practicing and obviously after what happened last time, Beau made sure I know what I’m doing.”
Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (Brimstone Lords MC 3) Page 16