by Rie Warren
And that man was deliciously dirty. He made me equally insatiable.
Momma Joan was flirty as ever with Saint, nauseatingly so. I kept reminding her his ego didn’t need any boosting, but she just tisked me and went right back to simpering at him.
He took it all in stride, giving her those winks and grins that could turn a woman’s head clean around. But I overheard him talking to her once, apologizing again for his role in Reggie’s past—the stab wounds.
As Reggie’s mother, she gave Saint the sort of absolution I never could.
Caleb was overjoyed Saint was back, and absolutely hung off his every word. It used to seem so odd, but this big gruff biker turned out to be a natural with my son, and I even let him pick Caleb up from school one afternoon in the Chevelle.
Of course Saint caved the second my boy mentioned stopping for ice cream, but he texted me first before agreeing.
Little things like that melted my heart all over again.
The one black spot during all the shiny happy days was Reggie.
He turned up to deliver child support. Less than the agreed amount, but after the last time I saw him, I wasn’t going to argue—I just wanted him to leave as quickly as possible.
Thankfully, he didn’t ask to see Caleb. He didn’t say a single word about Saint either, which I found unsettling.
He stood on the stoop, hair in hanks around his face, the bushy beard he never trimmed not quite hiding the huge scar down one of his cheeks. His hands crammed into the front pockets of his grimy jeans, and I knew he had a gun jammed into the back waistband. He never went anywhere without a piece.
Care of Saint, I had a gun too, locked safely away in my closet at that particular moment. I wasn’t entirely convinced I needed it, but there was some security in knowing I could defend myself, Caleb, and even Joan if needed.
“How’s the boy?” he asked.
“Caleb’s fine.” Stepping out onto the small porch, I shut the door firmly behind me.
He lit up a cigarette and took a deep drag, squinting at me with clearer eyes than usual. “He still doin’ okay at school?”
“Getting all As this quarter.”
Nodding, Reggie drummed his fingers on the stair railing. “Ain’t gonna be a dropout like his old man then, huh?”
“He’s only in the second grade.”
“Right, right.” He shoved a greasy strand of hair behind one ear. “He still at that same one? Down on Humanity Street?”
“Yeah. Why? Are you planning on coming to the next parent-teacher conference?” The idea was laughable.
“Don’t get smart with me, bi—” He cut himself off before finishing his threat. “Just askin’ about my own kid. Don’t have to take that tone with me.”
Well, I wasn’t about to apologize either.
We stood in a silent standoff until he crushed the cigarette butt underfoot then swaggered back to his bike.
Maybe we’d turned a corner.
Maybe he’d be less of a menacing asshole in the future.
Maybe I’m delusional.
****
The day after Reggie stopped by, I sat in my car outside Caleb’s school. End of the year, and now he didn’t even allow me to get out and greet him. Because I didn’t rank anymore apparently.
At least not in public.
I sure bet he let Saint stride right up through the gates. He probably showed off Saint’s muscle car to all his friends.
He was growing up way too fast, and for the first time since I’d given birth to him—with Grace and Slade’s baby on my mind and Mercy’s new pregnancy—I wondered if I’d have more . . . with Saint.
With the motor idling and the AC on, I checked the clock on the dash. We had plans to meet up with Saint to grab some dinner and watch a movie. Another oddity about Saint—biker bad boy—was that he didn’t just like doing normal stuff like hanging out with me and my son. He actually got a big teeth-baring grin whenever I suggested something that was so mundane in my world.
I expected the night to end, however, with Saint tossing me onto my bed and fucking me while whispering filthy hot things to me in his deep guttural voice.
Glancing out the back window, I saw Caleb bopping along to the car burdened by the heavy weight of his backpack.
Shutting down my raunchy thoughts, I reached back to pop the door open for him.
He scampered in after basically catapulting his backpack in front of him, and before he even shut the door, he asked. “Are we gonna see Saint now?”
“Yes. How was school today?”
“We’re really goin’ to the tattoo place?”
I could see I’d already lost his attention, but I didn’t mind.
With a chuckle, I put the car in gear. “Yes, baby boy. We’re picking him up at the tat parlor.”
Only now I wished they hadn’t named the place Tit for Tat.
I had to hope Caleb didn’t understand the connotation.
Checking on him in the rearview, I saw him wrinkle his nose.
“Promise none of that baby boy stuff in front of Saint or the other guys?”
I let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, baby boy. I just can’t promise that.”
Then I laughed when he puffed out a breath and crossed his arms over his chest.
I cruised into the carpool traffic then headed off toward Thunder Road. I’d made it away from the busier thoroughfares when I looked into the rearview again to see if Caleb had lost his pout.
He hadn’t, but more worrying . . . there were two Harleys right on my tail. Behind them was a big black van, which was graffitied in Death Dealers colors.
I didn’t see Reggie, not immediately. But one of the men on the choppers was definitely Janky, who was nothing but a complete waste of space.
Gaze swiveling from the rearview to the road, I reached over to the glove compartment.
“Dammit.” I’d locked the frigging thing.
Of course I had.
Safety first.
But the Glock was in there.
“What’s wrong, Mommy?”
“Nothing, honey.” I glanced out the sideview in time to see the two bikers cruise around the back of my Honda to overtake me.
Throttling in front of me, they both broke hard, and I slammed on the breaks. Brought to a dead stop, I turned back to Caleb.
“Are you okay?”
“Why’d you stop so fast?” He tugged at the belt cinched across his chest.
I put the car in park and quickly yanked the keys from the ignition. One last look in the rearview, and I saw the van right on my bumper with Reggie climbing out.
I hurried to unlock the glovebox then grabbed the gun and stashed it in my bag.
Thank the lord Saint made me keep it loaded.
“Mommy? What’s going on?”
“It’s just your dad I think, honey.” Fear pushed adrenaline through my veins, but I tried not to let on.
I tried to keep my voice normal and my nerves steady.
I was about to hit the door locks when Reggie was right there.
He jerked open my door, leaning down with a nasty look on his face.
His voice came out low and growly against my ear. “You do anything stupid, bitch, and I’m takin’ it out on the boy.”
This was why he’d been asking about Caleb’s school. Why he’d behaved himself yesterday. To lull me into a false sense of security.
Oh, god.
I wanted to spit in his face, rake my nails down his cheeks, but I couldn’t put Caleb in danger.
In that same low tone, he spit out, “Now get the fuck outta the car and don’t make a scene.”
Slinging my bag over one shoulder and across my chest, I slowly left the car. “What about Caleb?”
“Oh.” Reggie swiped a thumb across the sneer on his mouth. “He’s comin’ with. Did ya really think I’d let you sleep with the fuckin’ enemy and get away with it?” His face hardened into ugly planes. “Did you really think I’d let that punk-ass wannabe take m
y place in your bed and as the boy’s dad?” His fingers pinched my cheeks hard, denting the flesh. “About fuckin’ time you learned you’re mine forever.”
Just as a group of people turned around the nearest corner, Reggie let up on me. With an arm slung over my shoulders, he made it all—an abduction—look nicey-nice.
Jesus Christ, he even nodded his head and gave a one-finger wave to the people who were probably tourists.
“Where were you headed?” he muttered when they were out of earshot. “Thunder Road to see that long lost loser? Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
After thrusting me toward Dozer who started hauling me to the black van, Reggie opened the back door of my car.
He stuck his head inside, saying, “C’mon, son. Goin’ on a field trip just like at school.”
Through the rear window, I saw Caleb shrink back.
I heard him shout, “I want Mommy.”
“You’re gonna get Mommy. And me. One big happy family.”
Reggie wrangled Caleb from the car, plastering on a smile although his eyes remained cold as stones.
Dozer whipped open the side door of the van and shoved me inside. Reggie hopped in, hauling Caleb with him.
“See? Ain’t nothin’ but a cool ride in a cool van, boy.” He pressed Caleb down onto the bare floor before hollering out to Janky and the other man to hit the road.
Reggie slammed the door shut, Dozer got into the driver’s seat and, hunkering in front of me, Reggie clamped his fingers on my chin again.
The van shot into motion, and I jerked forward into the rabid man.
His disgusting whisper hit my ear, “Knew you still wanted some of this.”
Then he pushed me back, got up on his knees, and started taking his belt off.
No, no, no.
He wouldn’t possibly rape me in front of Caleb.
My eyes wide, I glanced over at my son, and he huddled with his arms wrapped around his knees, staring unblinkingly.
An evil glint entered Reggie’s irises. He drew my arms forward and laced my wrists together with that wide leather belt.
After he secured the buckle, he slapped my face with a punishing blow. “What did you think, whore? I was gonna use you right here in front of the boy?”
I recoiled from the hit, Caleb scrambling over and screaming, “Get off my mommy, you big bully!”
Taking Reggie by surprise, Caleb flailed against his dad’s ribs with his small fists.
Reggie stilled for a moment before cruelly pushing Caleb away from him. In the next instant, Caleb sprawled across the van’s floor and, before I could get to him, Reggie loomed over our son.
He never looked meaner than when he stooped just above Caleb with a fist cocked back.
I crawled over to them on my knees, thumping my hands onto Reggie’s shoulders and the back of his head. “Get away from him! Leave him alone! You’re nothing but a piece of street trash, and I’d should’ve had you jailed years ago.”
Rounding on me, Reggie back-armed me off him.
I hit the side of the van with a dizzying crash, but at least I’d gotten his attention off Caleb.
His grin an ugly thing, he hollered out a dark chuckle. “Hoowee! You got a mouth on you I almost forgot about.”
“I’d just gag that slut,” Dozer commented from the front.
“Nah.” Lunging toward me, Reggie threw a punch that made my eyes slam shut and my head snatch back. “Got better ways to shut her up.”
“Mommy,” Caleb bleated.
My head spun, my teeth clattered, my cheekbone bloomed with hot searing pain.
My rage roared.
I was so viciously pissed off that Reggie would have to kill me to get his hands on Caleb again.
Making my way over to my son, I huddled against him as best I could. I pulled him into the tied ring of my arms.
He smothered his face against my front, his hands slipping up to clasp around my neck.
“Fuckin’ momma’s boy,” Reggie sat across from us, jeering. “Just like I said. Last thing y’all need is that slap-dick Saint in your life. All that shit’s gonna end tonight. Or you are.”
I refused to let his threats rattle me. Keeping Caleb snug against me, I was a ball of adrenaline, trying to make a plan about how and when to draw the gun without endangering Caleb even more.
We took a sharp turn, and I heard something like a fence being rolled back before the van trundled on.
Then the vehicle stopped, and Reggie opened the sliding side door.
He dragged Caleb from my arms, and my boy bit him on the hand.
Reggie’s face went absolutely savage. Snarling, he raised his arm once again to hit Caleb, but I stumbled over and pounded him on the side of the face using my doubled fists.
Dozer and Janky heaved me off Reggie and threw me from the van. I hit concrete on my knees before scrabbling up to find my feet.
With Caleb kicking and screaming in his arms, Reggie loosened one hand to wrap a fist around my hair.
And when I got a good look at the place we’d been driven to, I tried to wrench free.
The Death Dealer compound was in the very worst part of New Orleans. The law let criminals run free in this no-man’s-land.
There had to be twenty to thirty men out there in the junkyard, hooting and hollering obscenities as Reggie marched us across the enclosure. They flicked flaming cigarettes at us and rocketed foaming beer bottles at my head.
The thugs followed us inside as if the spectacle of my son and me getting kidnapped was something to celebrate, like a Mardi Gras parade.
“Fuck that slut up good!”
“Tame the bitch. Let’s put her on a leash!”
“’Bout fuckin’ time the prez’s kid got learned how to be a man.”
I grabbed Caleb’s small hand, trying to reassure him as best I could as his dad towed us mercilessly along.
Inside the murky cement room, Reggie flung me forward. I banged into a long filthy surface balanced on sawhorses. My chin bashed against a chunky glass ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts, the ash climbing up to my nose and eyes.
I tried to rear up only to be pressed down, but I could still hear Caleb.
“No. No!” He shouted, and when I managed to look back, Reggie had passed him over to Dozer.
The monster of a man held my son against his front like he was nothing but a ragdoll, and he slammed his hand across Caleb’s mouth to silence him.
Then a man I didn’t recognize strolled into the room. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”
Reggie kept my head raised. “Vane, meet my baby momma. Tonight’s my wedding night and this here broad is my bride.”
“Don’t see no priest,” the other man commented.
Reggie’s fingers snarled harder in my hair. “Don’t need a man of the cloth to claim what’s rightfully mine. You got a fuckin’ problem with that?”
“Hey, you’re the president. You do what you want.” Vane sat himself down close by on an upturned keg then lit a smoke.
Reggie shoved me back down face first against the table, and Janky stomped over to his side. The gun in the bag slung over my front dug painfully into my ribs with every jostle.
“You got a choice to make, woman.” Reggie’s foul voice rasped out close to my ear. “You give me your body again right now—get with bein’ my old lady like you always shoulda been—or I’ll make Caleb get jumped into the gang. Tonight. Imagine that, huh? Our little boy getting beat on by the men he’s s’posed to lead one day.”
The thought sickened me to my core. I knew what went down during a jumping-in beat down, a gang hazing ritual.
He wouldn’t survive these violent bastards.
I would.
I’d agree to anything to keep Caleb safe.
But I had the gun. I could still get both of us out of here alive. Maybe even unharmed.
“Don’t do this. Don’t you dare do this, Reggie!” I begged, hoping to buy more time.
Snatching me by
my hair, he slapped me with a blinding crack across my face. “You goddamn call me Ripper when we’re in my house.”
Blood from my nose ran down to the corners of my mouth when he smashed my head back down to the grimy table.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll do it.” With my bound hands in front of me, I tried to claw my bag open.
I tried desperately to reach the gun.
“Take the boy to the other room,” Reggie ordered, and the men gawping all around jeered some more.
A few even shot off rounds I hoped harmlessly plugged into the ceiling.
“Mommy!” Caleb cried out.
I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t move.
“Don’t you touch him!” Struggling, I was held immobile as rusty blood and bitter tears leaked into my mouth. “I’ll kill you if you hurt him!”
“No you won’t.” Reggie mouthed near my ear, and I growled at him.
His face was so close I wanted to bite his fucking nose off.
I tried so hard to stay strong, if I could just get to the Glock . . .
“It’s okay, honey. Just do what they say. I’ll be right there, I promise,” I called out to Caleb, hoping to at least allay his fears.
Oh, god.
No one was ever gonna find us.
I hadn’t noticed Revenge friendly-stalking me since I’d gotten back together with Saint. Even that failsafe was gone.
“Shut up, kid. You don’t want your momma to lose her shit, do you?” That had to be Dozer, and his voice was moving away.
At that point, I just didn’t want Caleb to have to witness what would be done to me.
“That fucking wuss never shoulda been born in the first place if all you were ever gonna do was teach him sissy ways about music and makin’ him a momma’s boy.”
Reggie, the sick psycho, hissed as he kept his ugly face in my sight.
Gathering a great big gob of spit in my mouth, I launched a wad of blood-tinged mucus at him.
I hit him square between the eyes, and he moved out of sight.
“That weren’t nice, Honoré.”
I glanced back to see him whip off his leather and fling off his shirt. The shirt he balled up to swipe down his messy face.