by Naomi West
She remained seated on the couch, a million thoughts running through her mind of how bad of a decision she'd made when she'd decided to stick with Tanner. She was pregnant, after all, and she had to think of the baby. But, what kind of child would she be having? What world was she bringing it into? And what kind of man was the father?
“We're going to tear those fucking cocksuckers apart,” he seethed, his eyes ablaze with hate and pure anger. It rolled off him in waves, seemingly setting the whole world around him on fire.
She'd seen this look before, on her mother's face. Quentin hadn't come through on his package, so mother dearest was out of luck when the time came to restocking her supply. She'd been furious like this, too. Pacing the room, throwing dishes, lamps, and anything else she could get her hands on. She'd stand in the bathroom and throw them against the tiled back wall so they'd break into the bathtub. At least Star didn't have to scramble to sweep up all over the place.
“Never,” Tanner screamed as kicked the wall and knocked a hole in the drywall, “ever bring the cops into this kind of shit! That's the rule!”
Star flinched again, slowly blinked her eyes. Well, it wasn't like she was going to get the security deposit back from Martin, anyways. Of course, she doubted she'd be able to get him to come and repair the damage. What landlord in their right mind would?
Was this what she'd signed up for, though? Having a baby with a man who was getting the cops called on him? Who threatening violence in her living room? This was entirely too real, entirely too dangerous. What had she been thinking? Was the money that important? Were her burgeoning feelings for him important?
Absently, she reached down and touched her belly, thought of the child growing inside her. His child. Her child. This behavior, though, this kicking and screaming, the threats of violence on other people - this was too much for her. Patricia had been right the first go round, back in her office's break room. Star didn't want this. She did want something better. And “better” might mean away from Tanner.
“First Brendon? Now the fucking bar?” Tanner turned toward her, his hands balled into fists at his side. He clenched and unclenched them as he ground his teeth. “I'm going to settle this shit with them once and for all. I'm going to end this.”
That didn't sound good. She needed to do something, say something. Anything to get him to calm down.
“Tanner?” she asked, her voice even and quiet.
“What?” he yelled back.
“You,” she began, trying to keep voice even, “need to bring it down a notch.” She couldn't keep the acting up for long, though, and her voice started to crack and waiver. “This is really freaking me out. You are really freaking me out. This is getting way out of hand. This shit between you and the Wolves. I don't like it, and I don't think I can handle any more.”
“Don't you get it?” he yelled. He pointed to the door, but she knew he meant the whole outside world. “These guys are coming after us! They're trying to take our lives away! Trying to hurt the club and my family! This is about fucking revenge now!”
She turned her head and closed her eyes as she put a hand out in front of her. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, threatening to come out. “I don't care. The way you're acting is upsetting me.”
“I thought you understood what I was like! What this world was like!”
She finally snapped. “If this is what it's like,” she screamed back, “then I don't want to be part of it.”
“Nothing's changed!” He stepped closer to her, his voice lower, but still full of pure, palpable rage.
She turned her head to the side and wiped the beginning of a tear from her eye. “It has, too,” she whispered.
He stabbed at the air in front of her with a finger. “No, Star,” Tanner said, his voice even but intense. “This is my life. I thought you knew that when you agreed to this deal. If you didn't like it, you shouldn't have said you were in. But now that shit's real, you're turning tail and running away.”
“No,” Star said, her voice cracking as the tears began to come. She had to tell him how she felt. She had to tell him how strong her feelings were for him. Maybe then, he'd actually listen and call off this crazy cycle of revenge. “Look, I -”
“Fuck this,” Tanner interjected, clearly not wanting to hear what she had to say. He turned away from her and headed for the door. “I have to go. The guys need to hear about this shit.”
He was out the door, slamming it behind him, before Star could even get up from the couch to try and stop him.
Tears streamed down her face. Dammit. What had she been thinking getting wrapped up in this shit with him? Here she was, shackled to this man by not just the baby growing in her belly, but the feelings growing in her heart.
She got up and began to follow his same pacing routine, her arms crossed over her chest and hugging her sides.
He was such an asshole! With his screaming, his punching and kicking!
She stopped. What really upset her, she realized, was that she was worried about him. Worried about what kind of calamity he was going to bring down on his own head. Not because she wouldn't get paid if something happened to him, but because she didn't want to see any harm come to him. Not just as the father of her child, but as her lover and companion.
Her face went blank as a thought struck her.
She might actually be falling in love with this guy. Falling in love with more than just the sex, or how good he felt in her arms.
Fuck.
This was more, much more than just a physical attraction, and the emotions she was feeling terrified her.
She didn't have time to think much about how she felt, though, since Tanner came back and knocked urgently on her apartment door. Pounded, almost.
She smiled to herself, despite how upset she was, and wiped the remaining tears from her reddened eyes. They were probably all puffed up and almost shut from the all the crying, but she would worry about that later. What was most important, she realized, was his coming back to her. His coming back to, hopefully, help her figure this out.
There was one strange thing, though. She hadn't heard his bike come rumbling back up to the front of the apartments. Over the last few weeks, she'd learned to recognized his bike out of all the other vehicles that passed by. Normally, she would have heard him coming from a mile away.
She didn't worry about not hearing his bike, though. She'd probably just been too wrapped up in her own tears to notice his arrival.
Star went to the door and opened it without even looking through the keyhole.
Tanner shoved his way through, throwing her back against the wall as he bum-rushed his way in.
“What the fuck, Tanner?” she nearly screamed as he slammed the door shut behind him. And, that was when she realized Tanner hadn't been the man outside. Far from it.
Instead, there loomed over her a giant she'd never seen before. He was solid, too, with no extra fat on his massive frame. He wore an MC vest just like Tanner, but the colors were all wrong, different from the Blood Warriors.
“Hello, hello, little Star,” the man said with a grin through his thick beard. He peered out at her with bloodshot eyes full of loathing and hate. Those eyes were pure malice, the type that belonged to a man who would kick a dog without a moment's hesitation or afterthought.
“Wh-who the fuck are you?” Star asked as he stalked back and forth, her voice quivering. She didn't know where Tanner was, or who this man might be, but she knew in the pit of her stomach that this wasn't good. This wasn't good at all.
“I'm one of Tanner's old friends,” he sneered. “Doesn't he ever talk about me? Mention me around the dinner table? Or do I not warrant any appreciation?”
She shook her head. “You-you're not one of the Blood Warriors. You're one of those Wolves, aren't you?”
“Got it in one,” he said and laughed, his voice a little crazed-sounding, like what she'd expect to hear in the psych ward on a Saturday night . . . not in her own living room. It
was surreal to have that kind of world invade her own.
Her blood ran cold. She glanced from him to the door and back again. She had to get out of here.
“Don't even think about it, little Missy,” he said, wagging his finger “no” at her. “You and me, we're gonna go for a drive. A nice, long drive down memory lane, so Tanner can see just how serious I am.”
Star had never been one to listen to other people’s advice. Patricia could attest to that. She lunged for the door, despite his warning.
He was fast as a rattler, and snatched her wrist before she could even get close to the door knob. He gripped her tight and yanked her wrists up and over her head.
She winced and cried out, pain shooting through her.
“Told you not to go for it!” he shouted. “Didn't I? No one ever listens! Now, stop, before I really get pissed, you little bitch!”
She had to think of the baby, had to think of the consequences for the child she was carrying. She stopped struggling and tried to bring her breathing back down to a normal rate.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice quieter now. He towered over her, dwarfing her with his size. “Think your man is going to come help you? Going to come save you on his white horse?”
“He'll come for me. He'll find me.”
“See, I bet he won't. Not for a while, at least. He's gotta get that shining armor all polished up, after all.”
“You'll regret this,” she said. “He'll find me. Then, he's going to find you asshole. He's going to find you and finish this.”
“Really? You think so?” he asked, a genuinely perplexed look coming over his bearded, gnarled face. “Cause the asshole ain't found me yet, and him and his whole crew been looking for fucking weeks now. Guess we're gonna find out . . . ain't we?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Tanner
After his meeting with the rest of the Blood Warriors, Tanner rode back to Star's place. He was still pissed off, mainly at the Roaming Wolves, but he realized in the last hour that he was redirecting his anger onto her. And she didn't deserve that. He felt just like his father, a man who could lose control at any moment.
Of course Star wasn't ready for this kind of thing. Who would be? She wasn't a biker, and hadn't ever been some other biker's ol' lady, before. Shit, he'd kicked a fucking hole in her wall like some raging asshole. He probably terrified her with his outburst. He'd be lucky if she'd see him again. Ever.
And, honestly, he wouldn't have been able to blame her if she didn't.
He pulled up in front of his place and got off his bike. Her lights were still on, just like when he'd left. He was hoping she was awake still, and that maybe they could talk things out after their argument. Of course, he had more than just relationship patching to do. He had a hole in the dry wall to fix, too. But that could wait till morning.
He headed up the little walkway, past the poorly landscaped flowerbeds, and went to her front door.
Something was off. Her front door was slightly ajar. He walked up and called her name.
No answer.
“Star?” he called again.
Still nothing.
He suddenly felt like vomiting. Where was she? What the fuck was going on? He pushed open her door and went inside. This wasn't like her.
Her apartment was empty, just like he'd feared it would be. He stalked though her rooms, calling her name, despite the fact that there weren't many places she could have disappeared to in the small one bedroom unit.
“Maybe she just went out with Patricia?” he said aloud to the empty living room. “Or to find a job?” He shook his head. That was ridiculous. The evening was late, and she hadn't mentioned any interviews. He couldn't think of where else she'd be, though.
That's when he saw something on the ground. A piece of notebook paper with a scrawling handwritten note on its surface. He went over and picked the discarded page up, read over it. “You should look after the people you care about – Aaron.”
Aaron. Where did he recognize that name from?
He scrolled back through all his friends over the years, all the people he'd known or made enemies of. One name in particular stood out. A kid he used to run with, way back in the day.
Aaron had been a friend once, long ago. When he was younger, he'd hung out with a bunch of wannabe bikers. Kids whose dads were in MCs, or whose dads had always wanted to be in an MC. They'd ride their little 50cc dirt bikes around out in the woods, smoke cigarettes, drink cheap beer they'd gotten with a “Hey Mister?” from the local gas station.
But, that couldn't have been Aaron in that shitty flophouse apartment. The Aaron he knew was a skinny kid, all bones and sinew. The guy that had attacked him had been a fucking giant. But, now, as Tanner thought about the other biker who'd come after him with a baseball bat, he realized that the batter was him. Those eyes, those crazy fucking eyes that Aaron had. They were still the same, even after all these years.
His gaze had been intense, unnerving. Some of the other guys had been scared of him, thought he was a little too crazy, even for their group. He'd just always been the type of guy to tie fireworks to a cat's tail, or shoot birds with a pellet gun. Kid's shit, but Aaron always took a little bit too much joy in things of that nature.
Aaron.
How could he not have realized who had been terrorizing him all this time, until now? How could he have been so stupid?
He crumpled up the paper in his hand, his face twisting into a grimace as he roared his pain and anger. This wasn't fair. Star didn't deserve to be a target of this shit. It should have been Tanner, not the mother of his child.
Tanner pulled out his phone and went through the text messages. He scrolled to the series of texts he'd received earlier, when his brother had been in trouble. The ones threatening to get him to overdose.
“A, Roaming Wolf,” the text had been signed.
Not “A Roaming Wolf,” like Tanner had originally thought! Instead, the sign-off had been, “Aaron, Roaming Wolf.” He growled, stuffed his phone away, and began to pace. Okay, this didn't make any goddamned sense. He knew Aaron, that much was clear. And the guy was holding a grudge against him, and his family, for something. But why? And for what? He hadn't done anything to the guy, hadn't ever gone out of his way to slight him or hurt him.
Did he want money? Did he want something to brag to his buddies about? He was a Wolf, so it could be tied to that.
Well, whatever the reason was, Tanner was pretty sure he had Star. Which meant, first and foremost, he had to get her back. That was his main priority. Figuring out the motivations of a fucking psychopath could come later, once he had her back safe and sound.
He pulled his phone out again and started to call Blade and the rest of the guys. He'd need help if he was going to find her and get her back. He couldn't do this alone.
# # #
Tanner had searched everywhere he could think of in town. But, when that hadn't panned out, he started to look over near the university. Restless, he cruised up and down the streets in the early morning, looking for any sign of her. His head swiveled back and forth to either side of the road as he tried to put the pieces together.
No luck. No signs. No clues. Only heart ache and worry. He pulled over at a twenty-four hour diner, one of the late-night breakfast places, and stopped in for a cup of coffee.
“You alright tonight, hon?” the waitress asked as she placed the cup of coffee he'd ordered down in front of him.
Tanner grunted. “Yeah. Just keep the coffee coming. Got a long night ahead of me.”
The waitress, her own long night ahead of her, nodded her agreement to the sentiments.
He took a sip of coffee. As he was setting his cup back down, his phone vibrated. He snatched his cell up, hoping for some news from Blade or one of the other guys.
Instead, there was another text message from Aaron, on that unknown number. His breath caught in his chest. This could be what he needed, good or ill. A clue to find her. A clue to save Star.
“Do you think she'll survive being frozen out like I was?” the message read.
Frozen out . . . sounded like a freezer, maybe. Maybe that, or a refrigeration unit, or trailer. Old meat lockers. It could be almost anything.
He picked up the phone and called Blade.
“Yeah?” Blade growled on the other end of the line when he picked up.
“Tell the guys to check refrigeration units, old warehouses, that kind of thing. Anywhere they can think of a walk-in cooler unit. He said something about freezing out, so maybe that's the clue we're looking for.”