Rory

by Jordan Marie

  Who rents billboards to help lead their prey where he wants them to go?

  It stings, it burns inside of me that I fell in line with everything King wanted. It burns that I helped him get to Ryan and to Noah. Noah was right not to trust me… and I didn’t even know it.

  I give him a tight smile and shrug my shoulders—as if to say father was right. I figure that’s a better response than telling him our father could fuck off and rot in the grave that King put him in. That response might cause a repeat of the other night and my body can’t handle it. I have to get Ryan to safety. He’s all I have now and he’s depending on me.

  “Since you’re so anxious, I think it’s safe to give Ryan my present now,” he says.

  “Wolf,” he yells.

  Suddenly Wolf appears in the doorway. God, I hate this man. Seeing him again, brings a fresh wave of pain. I do my best to lock it down. It’s not easy when Ryan leans into me.

  “That’s the man who found me before I got to your house. He slapped me when I started screaming for you,” Ryan says with a whisper that is full of fear.

  “Bring me Ryan’s present,” King orders Wolf. Wolf looks at him and then back at me and Ryan. There’s something in his face that tells me I should brace myself—not a warning so much as frank disbelief. He nods his head as if to say that it doesn’t really matter to him and then he leaves the room.

  “You’re part of my world now, Ryan. It’s never too early to learn the importance of making your own rules and how to build an empire where nothing can touch you.”

  Ryan doesn’t answer, but his eyes dilate and go so round that it must be painful. I’m not even sure he understands what King is saying—partly because my brother is a moron and mostly because Ryan is only five.

  My breath catches when Wolf comes back and he’s dragging a woman behind him by the hair on her head. She’s in torn jeans, no top just a black bra that covers small breasts. Her skin is pale white and weathered. There are a few tattoos on her skin, but they’re almost as dull as the skin itself. She’s got dark hair, though I can’t be sure of the color because it’s plastered and wet. I think maybe from sweat, because her skin is clammy and covered also. I gasp before I can catch myself when I hear Ryan.

  “Mommy?” he asks confused.

  The woman’s head lolls around to look at Ryan when Wolf drops his hold on her hair. I would have thought she’d been beat, but she hasn’t. She’s high.

  Dangerously spaced out of her head.

  “Baby,” she says, the word so slurred that you can barely make out what she said. Then, as if what she said is hilarious she falls back on the floor laughing and looking up at the ceiling.

  I can’t stop myself and I don’t even question it. I slide my seat out from the table, gather Ryan up in my arms and pull him into my lap. His body is shuddering, his face glued to his mom, but he comes to me and I wrap him up… wishing I could protect him.

  “You see Ryan, you have two routes in this life. You can let things hold you back, or you can let things propel you into greatness,” King says, like he’s holding court and giving life lessons.

  Which maybe they are, if they weren’t lessons that had been twisted up in his mind and he wasn’t giving them to a five-year-old.

  “King,” I start to say something—I don’t know what, but something to get Ryan out of here.

  “You have two types of blood running through your veins right now—mine and your mother’s. You can be strong like me, or weak like your mother. What you have to decide is what you want and go for it. Your mother here? All she’s worried about is her next fix. She can’t even be bothered to pick her own child over it.”

  “King—”

  “Vicki?” King questions, but Vicki is deep into la-la land. She doesn’t even realize King is standing over her. “You see Ryan, I used your mother, just until I could get to you and make sure you were in my hands where I could take care of you—make you into the man you are meant to be,” King says, making himself like some type of twisted hero. “Your mother helped me, but she didn’t do it for you. She did it for the money, but most of all for the drugs.”

  “King, Ryan is only five… maybe—”

  “Rory you have no voice in this. You have no voice period. Shut it now, or I’ll have Wolf cut out your tongue so you don’t have a choice. That may be the better option anyway.”

  He’s grinning as he says it and I know without a doubt it will be a thought he entertains and acts on, maybe not today. That’s not his style, he’ll want me to live in fear of it for a while.

  That’s how King operates.

  “My son needs to know. He needs to see what happens when you make the wrong choices,” King says and my stomach flip-flops.

  He walks to Ryan’s mother, grabs her hair and hauls her up to her knees. Vicki is so far gone that she doesn’t protest or cry in fear from the rough hold. No… she giggles.

  “Oh God,” I whisper, not sure what’s going to happen, but knowing it won’t be good.

  “Get me the needle,” King directs Wolf and I shake my head no, thinking there’s no way he can be meaning to do that.

  “King! She’s too… it’s too…” I don’t even know how to finish my sentence, there are so many emotions inside of me, choking the words.

  King ignores me. I watch as Wolf hands him a huge needle, filled with something that I can’t begin to guess—and wouldn’t want to. I can tell by King’s dark smile that it’s not good.

  “You have a choice, Vicki,” King says.

  Vicki giggles.

  King shakes her head roughly.

  “Stupid crack-whore,” he mutters, mostly under his breath. “Can’t believe I let my dick inside of you. You should be thanking your lucky stars that the crap inside of you only managed to eat through a condom and not my dick, or your death would be so much more painful than it’s going to be,” he says with a twisted smile.

  I bend down and whisper in Ryan’s ear.

  “Don’t watch baby, bury your face into me and don’t watch,” I beg.

  Ryan immediately does as I ask, but my brother—who I am now positive I could kill without an ounce of remorse—won’t let him hide from what is unfolding in front of us.

  “No!” he barks. “Ryan you will watch or Rory will get your punishment for interfering!” he growls.

  Ryan goes solid in my arms, but immediately turns his head to watch his mother.

  “No,” I urge him, all but panicking. “I’ll take whatever punishment he gives, baby. Don’t watch,” I beg. I try to pull his head back into me, but Ryan locks his little body and with surprising strength doesn’t let me shelter him.

  “Vicki, look at your son,” King growls and he shakes her to make her focus on him. Somewhere deep, Vicki is lucid enough to understand because her head does this slow turn to look at Ryan.

  “Mommy,” Ryan murmurs, so sad that I gasp and I can’t get the oxygen to inhale back into my lungs. I just breathe emptiness… and it burns.

  “Tell me, Vicki,” King purrs, bringing the needle up to Vicki’s face and letting the side of it caress her skin like a lover. Vicki trembles, her eyes closing—whether from the drugs already rolling through her system or the sick addiction that has her so twisted she feels the needle and craves it… I have no way of knowing… but I think I do and it’s agony to watch. “Do you choose getting clean and being a part of your son’s life…. Or more money and drugs?” King asks, and as he does he looks up at me and winks.

  “Money?” she says, almost as a question. Her face is still watching Ryan, but her eyes are almost vacant.

  “I’ll make sure you have all the money you need…until the day you die,” King says and his smile leaves me with no doubt of when that will be.

  “Don’t. Don’t do this,” I plead and I don’t know if I’m talking to Vicki, to King, or to both of them.

  “Choose, Vicki. Your son or the surprise I have in this needle for you,” King says.

  For a minute, I swear V
icki’s eyes almost become clear. She looks at Ryan and it’s as if she can’t see what an amazing human being he is, how precious he is. I know this from her next words.

  “Never cared for the bratty kid. Just needed him to get what I wanted,” she says. Ryan let’s out a whimper which is mostly silent, but I can feel it go through him and I hear it, even though it’s muffled.

  “Mommy…” he cries.

  “You see, Ryan? We all have choices,” King says.

  “Give me the needle!” Vicki begs… begs.

  “King don’t, it will kill her. She’s had too much.”

  “Shut up, you stupid whore! I can handle it. King knows what I like, don’t you baby?” she purrs, sickly.

  “I know exactly what you like, Vicki,” he says. “And I’ll make sure you get it,” he adds, then before I realize what he’s doing… what he has planned… he plunges the needle straight into her neck, hitting her jugular.

  Vicki screams, then her body freezes. I watch and I know it’s not, but it feels like it is happening in slow motion. I pull Ryan into my body, even though he’s resisting. I can’t let him watch.

  Vicki’s body begins convulsing. White foam gathers on her mouth and runs down the sides of her face and down her neck. She cries, but it’s muffled from the bile. Her head falls back, her face etched in pain as King lets her drop to the floor. She twists and curls, no longer in control of her own body and the quaking so violent I close my eyes against the harshness of it.

  I hold a crying Ryan, trying to absorb his tears and his pain.

  “Rory,” King orders. I don’t look up immediately.

  I can’t.

  “Rory!” he growls again and I force myself to bring my gaze to him, as I hold down the need to vomit. When I do, I watch him kick Vicki’s now lifeless body.

  “You and I need to discuss how you’re interfering when I’m teaching my son.”

  Ryan’s body jerks, and he cries out loudly, his fingers bite into my back painfully.

  “Wolf drag her out of here. Throw her body in an alley close to that damn apartment I’ve been keeping her up in. Wipe the needle and stage it. You know the drill.”

  “Will do, King.”

  “No fuck ups. I’ve had enough of those.”

  “You can count on me,” he says, but I have to wonder with the way he’s looking at King. There’s something about him that doesn’t seem like he’s one of King’s normal lap dogs.

  “Now, Rory. What do you think I should do to you for interfering with Ryan’s lesson?”

  “Leave Rory alone!” Ryan cries, turning around to face the monster who claims to be his dad.

  “Loyalty is a good thing, Ryan. One day that loyalty of yours will be mine,” King says calmly.

  “Rory, come here and submit to your punishment,” King orders. I start to get up and Ryan’s hold increases.

  “Rory, no!” Ryan yells.

  “Shh…” I tell him, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. I go to stand up. Normally, this is where I spoke back to King. This is where I would fight tooth and nail. I can’t do that with Ryan. Ryan is my weakness and King is a master at exploiting weaknesses.

  “King, I need a word with you,” Sanchez says, coming into the room. I was wondering where he had gotten to. Usually it would be him carrying out King’s dirty work and not this Wolf person.

  “I’m busy right now,” King growls.

  “This can’t wait. Chul is demanding your appearance… first thing in the morning.”

  “What in the fuck for?” King growls.

  “Word leaked out about the mess with the FBI.”

  “For fuck’s sake, how?”

  “Don’t know. All I know is his man called here and said you were to be there first thing in the morning.”

  “I’ll have to leave tonight!” he growls. “I don’t have time for this shit!”

  “You can’t not show either.”

  “You don’t think I know that, asshole?” King growls. He turns back to look at me, anger etched on his face, showing just how enraged he is. “When I get back, Rory you will get your punishment,” he growls. I nod in answer, because I know that I won’t be here when he gets back. He’ll have me under guard, but I’ll get away.

  I’ll do whatever I have to do to make Ryan and I safe.

  12

  Rory

  “Ryan? Wake up sweetheart.”

  “Rory?” Ryan mumbles, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

  “What’s wrong? Is he back?”

  “No, baby. He just left in a helicopter. You and I need to try and sneak out of here. Are you with me?”

  “How?” he questions, sitting up in the bed.

  “I got a plan, but I need you to get up and get dressed, baby. Can you do that for me?” I ask him. Ryan doesn’t answer but he does get up and immediately grabs the clothes I laid out for him.

  I hope I’m doing the right thing. I don’t know exactly what I’m doing—I just know I have to do it. If I leave now, my brother won’t have had time to lock in excess security. Wolf went with him, which is good because there’s something about that man that tells me he’d be hard to get away from. Sanchez is here, but when I snuck into King’s office, Sanchez’s bedroom door was locked. I know there are security cameras, but I don’t care if King can tell if I’ve been in his office and I could care less if days later he sees me taking money out of his wall safe.

  It doesn’t matter, because I know the codes to his alarm. I’ve been sneaking and watching as he types them in. He’s careful; I could only see him typing a couple numbers here or there. That might have been bad, except that as smart as my brother is, he’s also an idiot—which I guess is an oxymoron… or maybe he’s just a moron. Whatever the case, the two numbers stuck in my head until finally tonight it hit me what they were.

  King’s alarm codes stand for the day he killed our father. There’s a twisted justice in that I suppose, at least to his warped mind. I grabbed three hundred dollars out of the safe. It was disappointing, but there wasn’t much more than that in there. Mostly the safe just had papers. I started to take those, but he’ll already be pissed, I didn’t need to add fuel to the fire—just in case he did get a hold of me again.

  The tricky part will be getting out of this house. I do have a plan. There’s a pool outside and I have the code to that, because Tony gave it to me. I don’t know if King realizes I have it, but that doesn’t matter. There’s a fence around the pool, but I found a hammer in the mudroom and I’ll use it to open a section of large white vinyl fencing. I don’t know if the hammer will work, but it’s all I have and there are no other options.

  “Ready, Rory,” Ryan whispers, and I take his hand in mine.

  I lean down to the foot of the bed and grab the small backpack I fixed. It just contains a change of clothes and pajamas for Ryan. If ever there was an occasion to pack light… this is definitely it. I sling the small backpack over my shoulder, bend down to make sure Ryan’s shoes are on the right feet and adjust the Velcro. I reach up to ruffle his hair.

  “It’s going to be okay, Ryan,” I tell him, trying to reassure him—and maybe myself.

  “Are we going to Daddy?” he asks, and I ignore the sudden pain in my chest.

  I swallow down the hurt and paste a smile on my face.

  “Eventually. We have to be careful. We have to make sure King doesn’t follow us. I do need to get a message to him.”

  “You could call him,” Ryan says.

  “His phone doesn’t seem to be working,” I whisper, walking us toward the door.

  “We could call Uncle Crusher, I know his number. Daddy made me memorize it.”

  I stop and blink down at him. Most kids at five barely can memorize one number, and yet Ryan knows at least two. It breaks my heart that his life has made it so that was something he needed to do, but at the same time I’m grateful.

  “Then we’ll call him soon as we get free,” I reassure him.

  “Great! And you can tell
Daddy where we’re at and he’ll save us,” Ryan says, his confidence in his father strong as ever.

  “Let’s get going then. Be really quiet, okay? And only talk when I tell you that you can.”

  “Got it, Rory,” he says. “You can count on me,” he says. My smile becomes a real one.

  I love this kid…

  13

  FBI Agent Gavin Lodge

  I down the last of my coffee, not even caring it’s so strong that there are grounds in the remnants sticking to the side of my cup. I need it this strong. I’m tired as hell. I crumble the foam cup, tossing it in the trashcan. Then, I adjust my jacket, before pushing through the doors that lead to the ICU lobby.

  Whitefish, Montana isn’t much different from the town I grew up in. Small, barely a stoplight to its name and deceptively quiet. Since joining the FBI years ago I’ve learned that most of the shit I come across happens in Small Town, U.S.A., and by that, I mean all of it. The people I hunt are… monsters. Monsters are twisted and fucked in the head and like to blend in. They do this best in hole-in-the-wall towns like Whitefish. That’s my usual cases.

  The case involving Westin Cross is not my usual. At first I thought it was just a run of the mill murder case. Then we traced a damn gun left in the truck back to an execution my people had linked to the Korean mob before the case went cold. I don’t know what kind of fuck-ups were in charge, but the assholes apparently thought a fire would ruin a gun. They were so sure of it, they didn’t even bother filing off the serial number, or removing bullet casings. The striations of the bullets matched exactly to that unsolved case. I’m not the one in charge of the original investigation, but these fuckers came into my territory and that put them on my radar and I’m not about to let it slide.

  I look through the room and there are only two people in here. Men, close to my age, one maybe a bit older. Both hardened by life—you can tell that in others when you have the same symptoms yourself. The older one is the tallest, standing an inch or two above me. He’s got some salt mixed in with his dark hair and scruff on his face that’s at least a week old. He’s decked in biker gear, complete with the leather cut-off that declares him VP of the Savage MC. Motherfucker. The last thing I needed was this to become about a biker war with mafia ties.