by A. E. Fisher
Adair was hugging that ragged doll close to his chest as his eyes went wide with unshed tears. He bit his bottom lip as if to fight the whimper that had already escaped his lips.
All the vapid viciousness of Mallory’s anger crashed out of her like a wave as she turned to face the little boy.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” she whispered, her brows turning up in guilt. She reached back to caress a hand over his cheek as he choked on a little sob. “Mommy’s tired, that’s all.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Even so, it was enough to convince the naïve three-year-old.
“Okay,” Adair mumbled, face still set in a sad frame as he squeezed the toy lion thing.
I unclipped my seatbelt and stepped out of the truck. Shutting my door and opening Adair’s, I began unbuckling him from the car seat.
“Wait,” Mallory said from the front, surprise filling her voice. “What are you doing?”
“We’re going inside,” I said simply as I swept Adair into my arms. He wrapped one arm around my neck, the other holding Papa.
“No, we’re not,” Mallory hissed.
I dug my keys out of my pocket, pressing a button to arm the locks. I heard Mallory’s gasp through the cracked open windows as I turned toward her.
“You can stay in the truck until you get ahold of yourself.”
Mallory looked at the door then back at me then Adair, her eyes wide with shock. I gave it half a second before she opened her mouth to yell at me, but I didn’t listen as I turned and took Adair straight into the clubhouse.
“You can’t leave me in here!” Her voice echoed across the lot.
I could.
And I did.
Chapter Ten
Mallory
I had yelled and screamed at his back as he entered through the door, but after ten minutes, I knew he wasn’t coming back out. The truck doors were locked, and I wasn’t getting out unless I smashed the window, and I didn’t have my nail file to get out through the floor. I didn’t think Hunter would appreciate me defiling his truck as I escaped, either. Besides, I couldn’t leave without Adair.
All in all, I was trapped.
Trapped with all the memories I had never wanted to face.
The door Noble had filled that last day I saw him was open, and the onlookers only occasionally glanced my way without much regard. They probably trusted that Hunter knew what he was doing, or figured I was another one of the annoying women who stalked the club men for the danger, sex, and drugs. In that case, it was more than okay to leave me in the truck.
Bikers were like that. But not Noble.
Noble had been kind. Noble, who I had met in a moment and crushed on for a decade. I had fallen in love in a day, and it had been every kind of gift I could ever wish. That man had given me the best thing I could ever have wished for. Yet, even as I looked at the doorway, back in the same car park, it was as if I was there again, breaking my own heart all over and destroying a man’s world with one little lie.
I regretted it. Despite what it had given me, despite the fact I would do it all over again if it meant having Adair, I wished I had never done it. The girl who never looked back, who was never ashamed of whatever she had done, had the heaviest guilt in her heart.
I felt tears well up in my eyes, and I couldn’t stop them as they poured down my face. I curled into a ball and allowed the memories to tear my heart apart again and again until there was nothing left.
I didn’t know how long I sat in that truck with my heart bleeding through my fingers, but by the time I had gone silent, my mind and emotions had grown numb. I sat with my fingers interlaced around my knees, and despite everything, I couldn’t bring myself to care about much. I trusted that Hunter would look after Adair, so I kept to myself in the silence of the truck.
A knock on the window startled me.
A young, black-haired man leaned against the window with his ink-covered biceps flexing. His eyes washed over my clothes and face, and then my eyes and stopped. I probably looked like a mess, but once again, I couldn’t care.
“Now,” he said, a small hint of a southern drawl lacing his voice, “what’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone in the dusk?”
I hadn’t noticed, but he was right; it had gotten darker, with pale blues and oranges now painting the skies. We had arrived around four, and it didn’t get dark until about six this time of year, so I had been left in the truck for at least two hours. Longer than I had thought.
Deep down, a part of me was pissed that Hunter had left me out here this long without checking on me, but the rest of me was too tired to listen to it.
“Too pretty to go inside.” I shrugged. “Some men can’t handle my charms.” It was a weak attempt at sarcasm, but it made the man beam.
“Ah, you’re the baby’s momma.” He said it like it was some wayward explanation. “I thought I recognized that face.”
At that point, I realized who he was. He had been the one to drop off the truck. He wore his cut and a patch that read “Road Captain,” like the one on Hunter’s cut reading “SGT at Arms,” whatever that meant.
I quickly reached over the console and wound up the window.
His mouth dropped open as if a woman had never wound a window up on him before and stepped away from the truck. He put his hands over his chest and faked a wounded heart.
I smiled and waved before looking the other way.
When I looked back, he was by my window again, breathing air across it before sketching a number. He held up his hand to his ear like a phone and winked. Then he turned on his heels, waving as he walked into the clubhouse.
I watched him go with a sigh.
I’d had too much trouble with a sexy pair of brothers to add any more to the list, despite that hot little drawl he seemed to hide in his voice.
I shook my head and curled up on the seat, feeling lighter somehow. I reached for the console and tried to wind the window back down, but it wouldn’t budge. Yeah, I figured that little discovery wouldn’t get me far. Windows that wound up when the truck was locked, but not down. Weird.
Three hours.
Three frickin’ hours he had left me in this truck.
Three hours to snap out of my mood and become royally pissed.
Pissed didn’t even cover it. I was furious.
“That bastard!” I hissed.
My head was pounding, my mouth was dry, and I felt ready to do something stupid, like smash up his truck or rewire his radio to only play classical music.
I reached for the dials as a figure emerged from the door.
He came out of the side door with a hood over his head, but it only took a second to size him up. He was almost as big as Hunter, but a little broader, and his stride was a longer. Other than that, the hood covered the rest of his features so I couldn’t distinguish him.
I curiously watched him stroll past as he kept his head low and traipsed around the back of the truck, where he paused and turned to look back at the building.
My heart stopped.
It might have been dark under the cover of late dusk, and I might have been going out of my mind with rage, but I couldn’t have missed that face.
The sharper cheekbones, the deep-seated eyes, and the softly curled blond hair; shorter than I had last seen it, but still long around his face.
When he turned and walked away from the truck, I went into overdrive.
I realized people underestimated me too often as I reached for a piece of paper from the dashboard and went to work popping the plastic casing underneath the wheel. Wires linked to switches and buttons, and other stuff that made my mind race as I began separating them. When I found the ones I wanted, I tore off the protective casing and twisted the wires, causing the truck’s engine to roar to life. I clicked the unlock button and turned, kicking open the door before stumbling toward the concrete.
I was on my feet in seconds, my flats slapping against the ground as I raced forward to the other end of the parking lot. I ran until my bre
ath was labored, skidding to a stop at the gate.
A prospect, who was leaning up against the railing, jumped at the sight of me.
A flash of black disappeared around the corner, and I ran like hell after it.
It kept dipping out of my sight, but I didn’t lose it until I stopped dead in the center of an abandoned kids’ playground.
“Wh …” I breathed, about to turn and look.
I didn’t get a chance as something hard slammed into my back. Only the hollowing ringing of metal joined me as I fell into darkness.
Chapter Eleven
Hunter
I sat in the backyard, keys swinging around my finger. I had simmered down since leaving Mallory in the truck for the better part of three hours—it usually took that long before she calmed down.
Adair played with Ripper’s two little girls as the man watched over them from the seat next to me. He was a huge man, bigger than me, which said things, and had a long etching scar distorting one side of his face, but he was the softest thing in the world when it came to his two little girls. They had become his world since his old lady had died last spring.
“Ain’t nothing like being a dad,” Ripper said, handing me a beer from the cooler between us. “Brightens up your world and scares the shit out of you more than anything.” He chuckled like that shit was funny, only because I had nearly had a heart attack when Adair had found himself on top of the climbing frame the bigger kids were playing on. The ringleader who orchestrated it was Ripper’s oldest boy at ten, a devil incarnate who kept Ripper on his toes.
“Yeah, nothing like it,” I grumbled into my beer. It was only my second, and I wouldn’t drink anymore since I was the one driving. Normally, I would crash at the clubhouse once the kids and women went home and the real party started, but I didn’t want Adair staying here when the parties got wild, nor Mallory.
Wolf stepped up behind me and reached into the cooler to snatch himself a beer. He took a long swig before sitting in a lawn chair beside Ripper, looking out at all the kids. Most of them were the bikers’ kids, others were friends and locals.
“Busy night, Prez?” I asked, watching the man down as much beer from the neck of the glass as he could get out of it.
“Staying in that office for too long drives me up the wall.” Wolf sighed. “I’m hungry.”
“I’ll get you something, Prez.” Ripper chuckled, slapping Wolf’s shoulder.
“Get one of the women to do it,” Wolf countered.
“Anna’s cooking.”
Wolf turned and looked to see Anna handling the grill, waving a spatula around like a mad woman. “Oh, hell.” He slumped back in the chair as Ripper’s laugh moved over in that direction.
“Come on, Prez.” I laughed. “She ain’t that bad.”
Wolf grunted and turned back toward the kids. “Which is yours?”
“Adair!” I yelled, and a curly blond head turned in my direction.
Adair got to his feet and ran straight into me, almost sending my last precious beer flying. He crawled onto my lap and sat before looking at the cool bottle with wide eyes.
“Nope. You ain’t having any of this, or your momma will kill me.”
Adair stopped and a look washed over his face I wasn’t prepared for. “Momma?” he said, as if only remembering her absence. He looked around the backyard with such a panic that it made me set my beer down on the grass and grab him with both arms.
“Hey, little man,” I said, righting Adair before he fell straight off my lap. “Momma’s here. She’s—”
“You locked her up in the truck?” a voice cut me off, and I looked up to find an amused Jax looking down at me.
“You did what?” Wolf choked on his beer.
I sighed. “I was giving her time to cool down.”
“Yeah, that’s what she is doing.” Jax shook his head, reaching into the cooler.
“What are you talkin’ about?”
“Girl’s eyes were all red and puffy, so unless she’s been crying with rage …” Jax tipped the bottle to his lips and grinned. “Cheered her up, though. Gave her my number.”
“Shit. She was crying?”
“Like a fire truck for a good half an hour from what I was told.”
I stood from my chair like it was on fire.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
She was crying?
Why the hell was she crying?
Adair clung to my neck as I turned toward the door. I only took one step before it banged open and Lamb filled the doorway with Pretty behind him, a girl curled up in his arms.
I was two seconds from pushing him and whatever drunk girl was passed out in his arms out of the way before I realized who it was.
Mallory.
Chapter Twelve
Mallory
Voices were bobbing in and out like I was under water, noisy but blurred, like radio static. A steady pounding echoed in the background like the rhythmic beat of a song, but the way my body felt heavy and limp was nothing musical.
I groaned, and the sound echoed in my head. Another sharp beat followed, and just like that, I was thrown into consciousness.
“Momma!” Adair roared in my ears, his blond curls stuck up in every direction. His beautiful green eyes were tightly closed with tears pouring over his hot red cheeks as he fisted the sheets.
At my awakening shuffle, he looked up and went quiet. It lasted all of two seconds before he burst out into blubbering tears and wrapped his arms around my neck, jerking my head. It throbbed, and I winced, but it didn’t stop me from wrapping my arms around him.
“Hey, baby,” I whispered, brushing back his unruly curls, twirling them around my finger.
“I tried to keep him off you, but he wouldn’t let go.” A woman sat on the edge of the bed, a cloth in her hands and a bandana pushing back strawberry-blonde hair. It fell around her shoulders like straight silk. Her pale face and silver eyes were beautiful. She looked no older than thirty-five, but her eyes gave her away. They had seen a lot in her years.
“Where …?”
“You’re at the clubhouse. This is Hunter’s room.”
I slowly looked around the simple room. One big double bed, a window, a wardrobe, two side tables, and a lamp. There wasn’t much. Then again, I doubted he needed much, other than his own deadly weapon stored in those jeans of his to do the nasty things he used this room for.
My musing came to an end as the woman spoke again.
“You were found unconscious in the playground about half a block from here. One of the kids was heading home, and Pretty walked him back. They spotted you on the ground. I checked you over. You look like you passed out from dehydration. Hit your head pretty badly.”
“The playground?” I murmured, scraping through my memories as I soothed my hand over Adair’s short curls. He buried his nose into the fabric, no doubt rubbing snot all over the bed sheets. The curls sprung and twirled around my finger before I released it, watching it curl up again, just like his father’s. Father …
“Noble!” I burst up from the bed, wrapping my arms around Adair to stop him from falling. My head swam as I struggled to stay upright and almost toppled off the bed.
Adair let go and scrambled back as I pushed him from me, staggering up to my feet.
“Wait!” the woman said, but I wouldn’t. Not for anyone.
I rushed forward, swinging the door open. His name fluttered past my lips repeatedly as I went into a hallway and ran left then right and left again as the hallways swerved and turned.
My foot caught when a step appeared from nowhere, and I went down with a sharp cry. My head throbbed harder, whether from the lack of oxygen or my fall, I didn’t know. I tried to push up to my feet, but the more I pushed, the more I felt like I was lowering, as if I couldn’t tell up from down.
“Mallory!” a voice snapped as hands came around my biceps.
I struggled, but the arms held on and turned me until my back was pressed against the wall. The strong scent of aftershave
and beer swarmed around me as Hunter towered over me, boxing me in.
He knelt and pressed his hands to my cheeks. “Mallory, calm down.” His voice was soothing and deep.
My chest rose and fell. I was faintly aware of my head lolling into Hunter’s big, calloused hands.
“Calm down,” he repeated.
My heart fluttered, and my tunneled world began to open, as did my mouth.
“Noble,” I said. “Noble was here.”
Hunter stiffened. Time seemed to slow as he scanned my face, trying to detect any lies. For a moment, I thought he believed me. I was wrong.
“No, he wasn’t.” He shook his head. “You must have been dreaming. You passed out. You were—”
“I know what I was!” I argued. “I also know what happened.”
“Mallory …” Hunter growled with warning.
“He was there. Before I was knocked out, when I was in the truck, I saw him go past. He was wearing this black hoodie, and I chased after him. That’s when I saw him at the playground. That’s when I was knocked out. Which, by the way, hurt like hell. But …” I stopped, looking at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Hunter’s eyes were sad as he shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, dropping his head and pressing it against mine. The warmth of his skin and the tightness of his brow radiated into mine. I struggled to turn my face away, but Hunter held it still against his.
“No!” I snapped. “No!” I became brutally aware that my voice had turned into sobs and tears were running down my face. Why wouldn’t he believe me? “I saw him, Hunter. It was him. I wouldn’t mistake it!”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” another voice said.
Both Hunter and I looked up to see the biggest man I had ever seen. The soft Russian of his voice, the deep amber-colored eyes, and short silver-brown hair made him seem so wise. Even he looked at me with pity.
“No,” I whispered. “I saw him. I swear!”