Shift (The Disciples' Daughters #2)

by Drew Elyse

  “You going to be my secretary now?” I asked, but she had no idea what I was talking about. Shaking my head, I answered the call. “Hello?”

  “Hi, honey,” Ash’s sweet voice came through the line.

  “Hey, Firefly.”

  “Where are you guys?”

  “At the clubhouse. I’m just getting Emmy into her seat so we can head back to you.”

  “Is she doing alright still?” Worry colored her tone.

  “She’s just fine,” I said. I turned the phone toward Emmy. “Say hi to Mommy, princess.”

  “Hi, Momma!” she yelled.

  When I returned the phone to my ear and shut Emmy in the truck, I heard Ash laughing. “Love that sound, babe.”

  She changed the subject rather than answering that, like always. “Well, I just wanted to check in with you two. I just got out of the shower and wasn’t sure when you’d be back.”

  I stopped before I opened the driver’s door. “You took a shower without me?”

  “Yes, Sketch. I usually do.”

  “You shouldn’t. I’m a good shower buddy, and it’s important for the environment and shit.”

  “The environment and shit?” she teased. “A shower with you won’t save any water. It’ll take three times as long.”

  “Hey, I just like to be very thorough. You can’t fault me for wanting to get you very clean.”

  Fuck, I was starting to get hard thinking very dirty thoughts about cleaning her off.

  “Only after you get me dirty.”

  Yeah, that was too much. I was rock hard. Ash didn’t talk like that often, and it was enough to shatter my restraint.

  “Tonight,” I warned, “you’re going to pay for getting me hard when I’m about to get in the car with our girl.”

  Ash let out a muffled gasp and I could picture her biting her pink lips. That image was not helping. I needed to get off the damn phone before I lost control of myself.

  “We’ll be home soon. You and I will discuss your payback later.”

  “Okay,” she replied, breathy.

  I took several deep breaths after we hung up, trying to get my hard-on under control before I got in the car. Once I got it to start going down at all, I climbed in.

  “Alright, princess. Let’s get home to Mom.”

  “Momma!”

  At least I wasn’t the only one excited.

  “I told you I’d be back,” I said, placing another bundle of flowers down on Dad’s grave. “I’m sorry. I didn’t bring Emmy this time. Deni is watching her. I want to wait so we can have Gabe with us, but he couldn’t today. I’m not sure she can comprehend this yet. It’ll be good for both of us to have him around.”

  I glanced over at Ace, my guard. He got stuck with me a lot. I guess just because he lived in the farmhouse with us. He was around, so he got the job.

  “Things have changed a lot. Emmy calls Gabe daddy now. He’s so good with her. He loves her. He loves both of us,” I laughed. “I don’t know how we got so far from where we were last time I visited.

  “This is where I’m supposed to be. I get it now. Gabe got it the whole time. You always said I thought about things too much and let my head get in the way. You were right. You were always right.”

  A harsh whistle interrupted my train of thought. I swung my head Ace’s way to see him pointing down and making a shushing motion. He reached behind him, pulling out a gun, I was sure. He moved, swift and careful, toward a wooded area at the edge of the cemetery. I couldn’t see anyone in the direction he was heading, but I didn’t take chances. Doing as he’d said, I ducked and moved around behind the tree next to Dad’s grave.

  It was probably just Ace being over-protective. Still, he thought there was something wrong. Was that reason to call for backup? I didn’t know. I couldn’t exactly ask Ace either. I debated on it for longer than a situation where a gun being pulled probably warranted before I got my phone.

  I doubted the Disciples would mind if I was extra cautious.

  I dialed Sketch first, but he didn’t answer. He hadn’t told me that morning what he was doing. He said he had work to do, but not whether that was club work or if he had a tattoo appointment. I tried a second time, just in case he hadn’t heard it, then dialed Stone.

  When he didn’t answer either, I left a message. “Um…hi.” Hi? God, I needed to get it together. “Ace brought me to the cemetery to visit Dad’s grave. He just signaled me to get down and started heading off. He was taking out his gun. I don’t know—”

  A hand wrapped around my wrist, yanking the phone away from my ear. It squeezed until the pain forced me to release my hold. A sharp tug had me facing an older man I’d never seen before. He looked disheveled, though not in a prominent way. His hair was out of place, but the gelled texture said it had been styled. Beneath his unbuttoned suit jacket, his shirt was partially untucked, yet he looked very much like the type of man who did not usually look that way. More terrifying, there was a crazed look shining through an otherwise collected expression.

  He smiled at me in a way that made my skin crawl. “Well, hello there. I think it’s time we met. You look so much like your whore mother.”

  Barton.

  Crap.

  I looked for the phone, but it was in his other hand. He noticed my eyes move to it.

  “Oh, looking for this? It really is a shame you sent that message, Ashlynn. I would prefer not to be interrupted. Now, my associate will have to dispatch with your guard in a hurry so we can depart before your company comes.”

  Ace. Oh, god. I really hoped he was okay.

  Barton threw my phone to the ground, producing a gun from within his suit jacket and firing a single round into the screen. I jumped back, and he turned the barrel on me.

  “Now, dear, I sincerely hope you don’t have illusions of doing anything foolish. If you run, I will shoot. I won’t hesitate.” He was serious, it was obvious from the way he spoke the warning, like he was informing me of a simple fact rather than threatening my life. Even had I not known what he did to my mother, I would have taken his words to heart.

  There was a disturbing sort of clarity that settled in when a man like Barton turned a gun on you—a man deranged and unfeeling enough to pull the trigger without thinking twice. I became extremely aware of everything. There was no shake to Barton’s hand, no likelihood that attempting to run would work. He wasn’t a panicky would-be killer who would miss a moving target.

  I also became aware of a minute quality to his presence that made him seem unsteady. Something about him reminded me of the adage “still waters run deep”. With the exception of the slight flaws to his appearance, nothing visibly gave me that impression. Still, I knew it to be true. Whatever he was showing me, there was something entirely unsettled at the heart of him. Stone had told me his infrastructure was crumbling and he was becoming desperate. I wondered if that was what I was seeing.

  Finally, I was aware that I could not pick out any sound that might be Ace. I was terrified Barton’s man had hurt him—or worse.

  I needed to find a way to buy myself time. I didn’t know where Stone was, or when he’d check his phone. Hopefully, it would be soon. I’d managed to tell him where I was. I needed to keep myself there until the Disciples could make it.

  “Won’t you shoot me either way?” I asked. I had no idea whether it was the right question. I barely knew the right thing to say when my life wasn’t on the line. In that moment, I’d take anything my brain spit out.

  “It had been my thought,” Barton explained. “Now that I’m seeing you, I’m rethinking my position.” He stepped in close, his gun pressing right against my stomach. I could smell his cologne, and it made me gag. His free hand went down my arm, purposely touching the side of my breast. “I had to dispose of your mother before I had my fill. Perhaps, now I’ll get another chance.”

  Oh, god.

  No. I’d rather die.

  “I imagine you’ll be even more pleasing than she was.”

 
; Unable to contain it, my mind flashing back to that horrible night when Jackson forced himself on me, I retched violently.

  Barton flew backward several steps. “I swear to you, bitch, if you throw up on me, I will make you fucking pay.”

  If I didn’t stop it, he was going to make me pay either way.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Retribution, darling,” he answered. “Retribution on those filthy fucking bikers who thought they could come after me without consequences. I thought they would learn when I put that bastard father of yours in the ground,” he gestured with the gun toward Dad’s grave, “but it seems they were more dense than I believed. Perhaps they’ll finally understand when I deliver you back to them, piece by piece.”

  “They won’t let you take me. They’re probably already on their way.”

  He raised the gun until it was level with my forehead. “Shut your mouth. Now. I won’t play games with you.”

  I did as he said.

  “We’ll be long gone before they arrive, as soon as Jones is finished preparing the gift we’ll be leaving them.” I didn’t ask, mostly because he still had the gun aimed at my head and I was afraid to speak. Barton supplied me with the answer anyway. “We’ll lay the pieces of your guard down on your father’s grave. They are brothers or whatever nonsense, are they not?”

  Ace. God, Ace, please be okay, I begged in my mind.

  Barton lowered the gun to aim it at my torso again. Long seconds ticked by without a word, without a sound.

  The silence was broken by an electronic ping. Barton unearthed a phone from his pocket, checking the display while his gun arm stayed steady. He looked to me with a smile the Devil himself would cringe at.

  “Time to move,” he told me. He swept out a hand like a proper gentleman—as if that negated the fact that he had me at gunpoint—and said, “Ladies first.”

  I did as he said, walking in the same direction Ace disappeared, though I did it with slow steps. Every second counted.

  “Faster,” he demanded, jabbing the gun into my back.

  I increased my pace a bit, but dialed back again as we went on. When he eventually did note I was slowing down, he snapped at me to speed up again. I repeated the cycle.

  We made it to the line of trees and I hesitated. Barton didn’t like that. His hand slashed out, grabbing onto my hair. With a vicious tug, he pulled my head back, then settled the gun right at my jaw.

  “I did not tell you to stop. You will fucking walk or I’ll find a place to put a bullet in you that won’t interfere with me getting inside of you later.”

  Crap. Crap. Crap.

  The trees were dense enough, it took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the shadows. Up ahead of us, there was another man in a suit. He seemed to be leaning against a tree behind him. On the ground at his feet, a body lay face down. A body in a black leather vest.

  “No!” I screamed.

  My knees gave out. It couldn’t be. They couldn’t have taken Ace. He’d been innocent in all this. He had barely been a full Disciple long. He hadn’t been a part of the war with Barton. He’d only had the rotten luck of being the one to guard me.

  Barton kicked at my side as he walked around me.

  “What the fuck took so long, Jones?” he snapped. “We need to get out of here before those motherfuckers—”

  He stopped speaking abruptly, but I didn’t look to see why. My eyes were on Ace, whom I could swear just moved. It was only a bit, just his arm. Maybe he was alive. Maybe, if the guys got here soon, we could get him to a hospital and…

  I cried out when Ace was suddenly on his feet, charging at Barton. He wasn’t fast enough. Barton wheeled around, gun raised, and fired. Ace didn’t even slow. I couldn’t see where the bullet went, but I saw the recoil of his upper body as it hit. He threw himself at Barton either way.

  The two of them started grappling with Barton’s weapon, Ace’s hand around Barton’s on the gun, their arms raised upward. It was then I saw the blood on Ace’s shirt. Some seemed to be Jones’ while some was seeping out from slashes in the fabric. With his injuries, they were evenly matched, but I was terrified Barton might soon have the advantage.

  Ace reached behind his back, revealing a gun beneath his cut. He whipped it out and turned it on Barton, but he was too late. Barton managed to pull free of Ace’s hold and turn the gun on him.

  I screamed for Ace just as the gunshot rang out and he fell to the ground.

  EARLIER THAT DAY...

  I’d gotten the call that morning. During the night, Roadrunner, Tank, and Jager had finally caught a break. Penelope and Jackson had come back to the apartment, stumbling in drunk and high off their asses. The guys had waited to get in, watching a live feed Jager had set up. The two had started to go at it and the guys nailed him right before Jackson nailed her.

  I couldn’t have picked a better time if I had engineered it myself.

  “Blue balls right before we off him. Fucking cold,” Daz had said.

  I’d made a plan with Ash. She was going to visit her dad’s grave with Ace on her. He’d volunteered, though he wasn’t entirely thrilled at missing the show we were going to put on with Jackson. Deni was watching Emmy at their house. Slick was home to guard them. Cami was with them. Slick was also less than pleased to miss out, but his pregnant woman was his top priority.

  Stone opened the door to the shed at the far end of the clubhouse property, revealing the piss-ant motherfucker tied to a chair. The floor was covered in a tarp—standard operating procedure, making clean up easier.

  I walked in, my brothers filing in around me.

  “How do you want him?” Stone asked.

  “Strung up.”

  Ham and Gauge moved to do it. They cut him from the chair, recuffed his hands, and linked the chain of the cuffs on a reinforced hook in the ceiling. He was hanging by his wrists, his feet not reaching the floor even as he danced around and extended his toes to try. All the while, muffled cries came from a gagged Penelope, tied to her own chair in the corner of the room.

  Once they had him trussed up, I approached.

  “Hello, Jackson,” I said with a grin.

  He started pleading like a bitch, but it was swallowed by the cloth gagging him.

  “You know why you’re here?”

  More indistinguishable noises came at me. I was taking them as a no.

  “You touched something that doesn’t belong to you.”

  His head started shaking back and forth, with more incessant noises accompanying it.

  I grabbed a knife from the worktable at the side of the room and held it to the fucker’s throat.

  “Shut your fucking mouth,” I warned. “I know what you did. You raped my woman, and you’re going to fucking pay.”

  He didn’t say anything. I took the knife away, then shoved it into his thigh for safe keeping while I moved around him to the bitch tied up at the back of the room. Jackson’s screaming was the best sound I’d heard since Ash had come on my cock the night before.

  I stood over Penelope, who already had tears all down her face.

  “I don’t believe in hurting women,” I told her, and her body relaxed. “Don’t think any real man is okay with that shit.” I knelt down so I was at eye level and she wouldn’t miss what I was saying. “But you, I’m starting to question that stance.” Her eyes got wide, her body shaking so much, she was likely hurting her skin against the ropes.

  “Ash fucking trusted you. That motherfucker raped her and she went to you. You broke her in your own way with the bullshit you pulled. For that, you’re going to pay.”

  I stood, pointing over at the still whining fucker who was bleeding everywhere. “You love him?”

  She nodded emphatically, like that was going to help the situation.

  “Good. Then you get to sit here and watch what happens to him.”

  The bitch screamed, but I didn’t give her another thought. Eyes on the prize, and my prize was waiting for me.

  I
stood in front of my brothers, Jackson still screaming and making a mess behind me.

  “Ash belongs to this club as much as she does to me,” I said to them. “Anyone else feels they deserve a shot at this fucker, you take it now. I ain’t stopping once I get started.”

  Roadrunner stepped up first, as I knew he would. Crazy motherfucker grabbed a blowtorch, a tool Indian was known for having a certain affinity for.

  “One request, brother,” I stopped him as he approached. He didn’t answer, just met my eyes. “I want him conscious when I get to him.”

  He smiled and clicked the friction lighter twice. A flame sparked to life from the nozzle of the propane tank and he stepped around me to get to work.

  A couple hours passed before it was my turn. The fucker passed out a couple times, necessitating Doc to step in with the smelling salts.

  I was gratified by the number my brothers did on him. Every one of them had stepped up for a turn, not just the guys who had been around when we were kids. They all knew Ash, both from whatever time they were around before she left and the weeks since she’d come home. Bearing witness to the gore was not something I wanted for Ash, but I wished she could see all the guys avenging her. Maybe then she’d really understand what she meant to the club.

  When I stepped up, Jackson was a fucking mess. Every sort of bodily fluid was on him.

  I grabbed a bucket one of the brothers had filled with some water and shifted it into my arms, noticing it was freezing cold when it splashed up onto my hands. With a good heave, I tossed the water onto Jackson and his constant whimpers turned into a sharp cry.

  “Just gettin’ you clean,” I said. “It’s no fun not being able to see our handiwork.”

  I stood there a moment, looking at the damage my brothers had inflicted—cuts, bruises, stab wounds, and charred flesh covered his whole body. As the water dripped away, blood oozed in again.

  I took it all in, hearing Ash’s quiet voice in my mind. “He raped me.”

  The rage built. I felt it moving through me, igniting my blood. He touched her. He hurt her. It was finally time to make him pay.