MALICE (A HOUNDS OF HELL MOTORCYCLE CLUB ROMANCE)

by Nikki Wild

  “Big D!” I said, turning to him in anger. “You should have been watching her!”

  “I was watching you, Liam - I’m supposed to protect the band!”

  “Don’t be such an ass! Go look for her - now!”

  “Yes, boss,” he said, sauntering down the hall.

  “Calm down,” Ian said, putting a hand on my arm. “What could have possibly happened to her? Everyone was watching the show. She probably didn’t want a big goodbye.”

  “We weren’t saying goodbye, dammit!” If I wasn’t so worried about Catherine, I would have punched Ian right then. He was infuriating me, suggesting she’d just walked away. She wouldn’t have done that.

  Or would she? A creeping doubt began chipping away at me, and I tried to push it away. I was an arrogant prick, after all. Maybe I was fooling myself thinking she might want something from me besides a quick fuck? Had she done it all for the story?

  I didn’t want to believe it. Fuck, I couldn’t believe it.

  “Boss, they say they don’t have surveillance cameras in the dressing room,” Matt walked back up. “They do monitor the hallways, though. They’re going to check them and call us back. I gave them a description of Catherine.”

  “Thank you,” I said, walking back into my dressing room. “Tell them to hurry the fuck up!”

  I needed to look for her myself, I’d decided. I opened up my closet to find a shirt to wear, and saw her purse hanging there. My heart dropped. I opened it up, and saw her phone lying there, displaying two missed phone calls - one from me and one from her agency.

  She hadn’t left me, after all. She’d never have left her purse behind if she’d planned to bail on me. Which meant she was just off somewhere wandering around the venue. Maybe she was still out lingering in the crowd or something.

  I sighed a huge sigh of relief.

  “Her purse is here,” I said, pulling on my shirt as I walked back into the hallway. Everyone was milling about, whispering to each other. I scanned their faces, and realized they were all looking at me with pity.

  “She didn’t fucking leave me, you bastards! She’s probably just out in the crowd somewhere!” I turned and walked down the hallway.

  “Where are you going?” Ian asked.

  “To find her!”

  “The crowd will tear you apart, Liam, you can’t go out there unprotected!”

  “Watch me!”

  Thirty-Seven

  CATHERINE

  “You have a key to his house?” I asked, as Callum opened the door. He walked over to the alarm and punched in the code.

  “I stayed here for a little while when I first moved to LA to run the charity,” he replied. He was nervous; the hand holding the gun he had pointed at me again was shaking. I looked around for a way out, something to hit him with, anything at all. Unfortunately, Liam house was decorated in such a minimalistic way, there wasn’t much around at all. If I could get to the kitchen, maybe I could find a knife, though.

  “Callum, I’m sure if you just explained to Liam that there was a mix up with the numbers…” I began.

  “There wasn’t a mix up. I stole it. All of it. I stole millions from him, because he deserved it, but that isn’t what this is about.”

  “You didn’t steal the money from Liam, you stole it from all those kids with cancer,” I replied. Bad idea. He pushed me against the wall, and pressed the gun to my temple. Pain screamed through my head as he pressed into my flesh.

  “I’ve heard enough from you, bitch. Now, shut the fuck up or I won’t wait till Liam gets here to kill you. I’m sure seeing your pretty little brains splattered all over his floor will be enough to do the trick.”

  I nodded silently and willed myself not to cry. I needed to keep my wits about me, stay calm, look for a way out.

  Callum’s eyes were wild and angry, his words spitting out of his mouth furiously, as he pulled me to the kitchen and sat me in a chair. He grabbed some extension cords out of a nearby closet, and began tying me to the chair.

  “Liam’s a monster,” he spat. “He threw my sister away like a piece of bad meat. As if she wasn’t even a real person, with real feelings. She loved that bastard, and he just turned his back on her at the first mention of money and fame,” he tightened the knots on my wrists, the cords cutting into my flesh painfully. “And then, when she died, he still didn’t even acknowledge she existed. All the years, all the interviews, all the chances he blew to memorialize Ally. He could have at least honored her memory.”

  “But he didn’t,” he continued. “Not once. Not one fucking word. And then what does he do? He asks me to give away the millions of dollars he earned by fucking her over to some sick kids. What about me? What about my family? What about our pain? Our suffering?”

  He finished tying me up and he stood back to inspect his work.

  “Callum, I don’t think —,” I began once again to try to talk him out of this.

  “Shut up!” he said, disappearing behind me. When I heard the distinct sound of duct tape ripping, my heart sank.

  “Callum, please don’t —,” my words died as he slapped the tape over my mouth. I struggled against the cords, shaking my head, pleading with him with my eyes.

  “Too bad you got mixed up with him,” he said, staring down at me. “You’re a pretty lady. You probably don’t deserve this, but how stupid are you to get mixed up with a bastard like him?”

  He began pacing around the kitchen, looking at his watch.

  “You know, he’s fucked thousands of women. You’re the first one he’s ever had over to his house. You’re the first one he’s ever looked at that way since Ally.”

  “You must have some really good pussy,” he said, towering over me. Fear gripped my heart, and I realized exactly how helpless I was. Up till now, I’d hoped I could talk my way out of it, but now that I couldn’t speak, or move, I knew exactly how fucked I was.

  Liam was my only chance, and he didn’t even know where I was. He must be worried sick about me by now, I thought.

  Callum reached down and pushed the hair from my face, his eyes narrowed as he looked at me.

  “You know, I’d fuck you myself, if you weren’t so tainted from fucking Liam.”

  I groaned, attempting to beg him again with my eyes. He obviously was not swayed, because he walked away, leaving me alone in the kitchen, alone with my thoughts, alone with my fear.

  Thirty-Eight

  LIAM

  As soon as I walked out into the crowd lingering around the merch booth, I knew it was a mistake. Dozens of fans surrounded me, asking for autographs, trying to shake my hand. I pushed through them, my eyes scanning the crowd for Catherine, as a huge circle of people formed around me.

  “Catherine!” I yelled, over and over again, ignoring the fans. She was nowhere in sight, and within seconds, I was surrounded by so many people I couldn’t get through them. Someone began pulling on my shirt, and I heard it rip as I tried to pull away. “Get off of me!” I yelled, barreling through them. They parted and then closed around me again.

  “Please sign this, Liam!” Someone pushed an album in my face, and I pushed it away.

  “I love you, Liam!” A woman threw her arms around my neck, and I pulled her off of me, trying to work my way through the crowd.

  “Liam! Liam! Liam!” they chanted.

  “Alright, that’s enough, everyone back the fuck up!” Big D’s large frame busted through the crowd, and he grabbed my arm, pulling me away. I looked up at him thankfully.

  “Any sign of Catherine?” I yelled, as he pushed through the fans.

  “Not yet,” he said.

  “Did you hear from Matt yet?” I asked, hope clinging to my shaking voice.

  “No, boss,” he said, as we finally cleared the last of the crowd. We walked behind the stage and back down the hallways that led to the dressing room.

  “You’re fuckin’ crazy,” Ian said. “I told you not to go out there!”

  “Fuck off! You’d have done the same thin
g if Rhone had gone missing!”

  “Rhone? You’re comparing your fling to my marriage?”

  “It’s not a bloody fling! I love her!” I yelled. There. I’d said it out loud. The words that had been churning in my head for days. I didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. It was true, and that was that. The shock on Ian’s face said it all.

  “What?” he asked. “Love?”

  “Piss off!” I said, pushing past him.

  I walked into my dressing room and pulled Catherine’s purse out of the closet. Her phone was still there, and I pulled up her voice mail and listened to the message from her agent. I knew I was invading her privacy, but I was becoming frantic with fear and dread, and I was hoping for some indication of where she was.

  “Catherine,” the female voice said. “I checked the rest of the numbers for Liam’s charity and nothing is adding up. I reconfirmed the numbers by calling each charity again and everyone is saying the haven’t received this money. I’m not sure what to tell you…but call me, and let me know how you want me to proceed.”

  What the fuck? I thought. What was she talking about? My charity? Catherine hadn’t mentioned anything to me about it, but none of this made any sense.

  I walked back out to talk to Ian about it, and just as I stepped into the hallway, my phone rang.

  Matt. Thank god, I thought, picking it up.

  “Did you find her?” I answered.

  “No, boss, but it looks like she left with someone. The video shows her going into the dressing room and someone followed her in and then a few minutes later, they left together.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “Well, boss, I’m not sure, but I came in to look at the video myself, and I could swear it’s that guy that runs your charity. The nerdy, skinny guy?”

  “Callum?” I asked.

  “Yeah, that guy,” he said.

  “Why would she go anywhere with Callum?” I wondered out loud. “Where did they go? Does the video show that?”

  “Looks like she got in his car with him and they drove away. Headed South away from the venue. That’s all we’ve got.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, hanging up the phone.

  “What?” Ian asked.

  “She left with Callum. Why the bloody hell would she go anywhere with him?”

  “That’s fuckin’ odd,” Ian replied.

  “Yeah, it is,” I replied. “Hey, did Catherine say anything to you about the charity?”

  “No, why?”

  “There was a message on her phone from her agent. Something about the donation numbers from our charity not matching. I don’t know, it doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Let’s call Callum,” Ian said, pulling out his phone, just as mine rang in my hand. I looked down at the display.

  “Wait!” I said, putting a hand on Ian’s arm. “Callum’s calling me now.”

  “Callum?” I answered.

  “Hello, Liam,” Callum said.

  “Callum, have you seen Catherine?” I asked.

  “Yes, she’s with me.”

  “Why? Where are you?”

  “We’re at your house. Waiting for you.”

  “What the fuck? Why are you at my house?” His voice sounded robotic, far away, and it made me nervous.

  “I’ll tell you when you get here,” he said, and then the line went dead.

  My blood ran cold.

  “Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong,” I said, racing away as fast as I could.

  “Liam wait!” Ian called from behind. “Goddammit, Liam!”

  Thirty-Nine

  CATHERINE

  I fought against my restraints as I listened to Callum talk to Liam on the phone. Of all the shit I hadn’t expected to happen this week, this topped the list. I held out hope that Liam would be able to talk some sense into Callum when he got here, because there was no escaping these binds.

  Callum paced around like a nervous rabbit, biting his nails, his eyes darting around the room as he muttered to himself. Yeah, I thought, as soon as Liam gets here, this will be all over. Liam might have been lanky, but he was tall and strong.

  The only problem was that gun in Callum’s hand. And the insanity that was obviously wrestling around inside his head. A crazy with a gun could do a lot of harm, to anyone. Strength didn’t matter.

  What mattered was luck.

  And with any luck, we’d get out of this bullshit with nobody getting hurt. Callum seemed to have another idea, I thought, as I watched him begin to pull out all the knives from the kitchen drawers and lay them out on the counter. Then, with horror, I watched him put not just the gun he was holding, but pull out two more handguns from inside his jacket, and lay them next to the knives.

  He looked over at me watching him, and he shook his head.

  “You can’t understand. You think I’m a monster, but it’s not me. It’s him. He’s the monster,” he said, his voice rising. “Ally suffered. Night after night, crying herself to sleep. I tried to comfort. I tried to give her the love he’d deprived her of. She was never the same. He ruined her.”

  He picked up one of the biggest knives and walked over to me. My eyes widened in fear as he brought the tip of the knife up to my chin, trailing it slowly up my cheek, stopping right under my eye. Slowly, he twisted it, poking into my flesh. I whimpered, pulling away before he could break the skin, as he laughed.

  “I’ve been waiting for this day for years,” he said, spinning away from me.

  “At first, I thought I’d only be able to take his money,” he said, “but then you came along!” He turned back to me, sliding the blade of the knife between his fingers, his eyes wild and frantic. “It’s so much better this way! He can always make more money. But after this, he’ll never fall in love again.”

  My stomach sank with the realization that this was all my fault. If I wasn’t here, if I hadn’t slept with Liam, gotten close to him, none of this would be happening. If I hadn’t poked around trying to find something good to include in the story, none of this would be happening. If I hadn’t opened my mouth and told Callum what I’d discovered, then I wouldn’t be here tied up in this chair waiting for the man that I loved to come and save me.

  Loved.

  I loved Liam. There was no denying it.

  If we got out of here alive, I intended to tell him just that. He’d made something come alive in me that hadn’t been there before. He made me feel alive just being in his presence.

  It was magical.

  And I’d gone and fucked it all up.

  I looked at the door and then looked at Callum, pacing across the kitchen floor like a fighter waiting for the bell to ring, his weapons laid out at his fingertips, a hatred that had been brewing in him for years on the verge of exploding, and I couldn’t help but wonder.

  After the lightening strike, what would be left?

  Forty

  LIAM

  The Jag couldn’t move fast enough. I sped through traffic, weaving around every car in my path, ran red lights and blew through stop signs, my head spinning.

  I still couldn’t figure it out, I had no idea what could be happening, but something deep in the pit of my stomach told me it wasn’t good. Fear gripped me in a way I hadn’t felt since Lennon was in his last days.

  I hoped like hell it was something simple, a misunderstanding, miscommunication, something like that. But there was something about the tone in Callum’s voice, his ominous words, the way he hung up on me, that told me it wasn’t just a simple misunderstanding.

  With all my erratic driving, it still took me almost half an hour to get through traffic and arrive at my house. My heart raced as I climbed up the winding driveway. I grabbed my phone and continued to ignore Ian’s calls. It was still ringing - it was the third time he’d called. I hadn’t answered while I was driving but I didn’t take the time to answer now either.

  The front door was wide open, and I walked in slowly.

  “Catherine?” I called. The living room wa
s empty. I walked down the hallway toward the kitchen, and just before I rounded the corner, Callum appeared in front of me.

  “Hey, mate, what’s going on?” I asked, peering into his eyes. Something was definitely off about him. There was a darkness in his eyes, and as he ran his hand through his hair, I saw his trembling fingers. “Are you okay, Callum?”

  He narrowed his eyes, and I looked down at his other hand just as he pressed the gun into my stomach.

  “Callum, what the fuck?” I froze.

  “Put your fucking hands up, Liam!” I raised my hands over my head.

  “Callum, where’s Catherine? What the bloody hell are you doing?”

  First, I was shocked, but that quickly turned to being pissed. I looked over his shoulder, but she wasn’t in sight.

  “Catherine!” I called out, and Callum dug the gun in deeper. I looked down at his little weasly face and knew it was going to feel amazing to slam my fist into it. As soon as I made sure Catherine was safe, I was going to do just that. Seriously, who did this wanker think he was? “Catherine!” I yelled again.

  “Where is she?” I asked him again.

  “That’s all you care about, Liam? Don’t you want to know why I’m so upset?”

  “Listen here, you little worm! Tell me where she is right now!”

  “You don’t care about anyone but yourself, Liam.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Callum. I care about lots of people, I just don’t care about you, you fuckin’ twat! Now where’s Catherine?” I pushed past him, taking a chance that he wouldn’t shoot. I was right.

  I assumed Catherine was in the kitchen, since that’s where he’d emerged from, but the kitchen was empty. I ran back into the living room, and stopped when I saw he’d walked out onto the patio, a bound Catherine sitting in front of him, his gun pointed right at her head.

  “You motherfucker!”