by Ellie Messe
“Then we pay him!”
He looks around, somewhat bewildered, “Who the fuck is we?”
“Me, her, I don’t know! He’ll get paid and nothing will happen.”
“Did you not hear me? He will fucking cut you up into pieces and dump your dead body. It won’t be fast or painless; he’ll fucking torture you!”
“He’ll get his money!”
Frustration takes over his face as he cocks the gun, “I should fucking kill her.”
“NO! T-BO, DON’T!”
“Do you want your daughter to die?” He asks my mom. “ANSWER ME!”
“N- n- n- no.” Her tears are mixing with snot as she sobs.
“Do you have the money to pay Alan Hale?”
“No.”
“No.” He echoes, looking at me. “You got eight grand stashed away, Em?” Jesus! Eight grand?! “Can you get eight grand by Friday?”
Today’s Tuesday. “If I leave she doesn’t stand a chance!”
“I agreed to pay her debts if you left with me.” Salt and Pepper says, “Including back rent.”
“Emma.” My mom chokes out and I meet her hysterical eyes.
“Make a choice.” T-Bo repeats.
I look from him to the gun, to my mom, to Salt and Pepper, to the men around the room, what the fuck do I do? “Three.” My eyes dart to T-Bo, “Two.”
“T-Bo. Don’t! Please, don’t do this.”
“One.”
His arm goes stiff; his finger flexes on the trigger, “I’LL GO!”
His hand relaxes, and I feel like I’m going to puke. My mother on the other hand actually does. Vomit slides down her blouse in an orange and yellow stream. T-Bo’s face contorts in disgust; he orders her to move to the window seat. Her shaky legs carry her but just barely. I watch as she sits and stares at the floor, her whole body convulsing.
“Emma, pack a bag.” Tears slide down my face as I watch my junkie mom. “Emma.”
I close my eyes, trying to force some sort of courage to rise but it’s abandoned me like everything else. Opening my eyes, I twist on my heels and enter my bedroom. Moose is right behind me.
“You okay, Princess?”
I don’t answer as I kneel on the floor to pull my old backpack out from under the bed. Righting myself I move over to my dresser and start shoving clothes into the main pocket.
“Can I help you with anything?”
Sniffling, I shake my head, moving to the next drawer.
After getting my everyday clothes packed, I move to the bathroom and start packing toiletries. Moose stands vigilantly by, always watching.
“I’ll take that for you.” He tells me upon re-entering the bedroom.
“I’m not done.”
He gives me a nod and watches me fish the old hatbox down from my closet. Opening the box, I stare at the contents. My life is in this little box, but taking it doesn’t quite feel right.
“I remember that picture.”
Looking over my shoulder, I stare at him; he moves forward pointing to a picture of me and my mom on a tire swing. I’m maybe two, big smile, eyes wide with excitement. My mom has an equally excited smile; this was during her drug-free days when she had life in her eyes and meat on her bones.
“Y’all was at Taker’s mom’s place.”
“Who’s Taker?”
“Your old man.”
Charming. “Why did my mom leave him?”
I don’t expect the truth but the question just kind of happened.
“Your old man was gone a lot. Back in the day he wasn’t really on the right side of the law. Cops came sniffin’ around one day when he was on run, guess she got spooked. We got back, and both of you were gone.”
“By ‘we’ do you mean the gang or are you including yourself in that sentence?”
He chuckles a little, “Both, and it’s not a gang; it’s a motorcycle club. We run straight these days.”
I offer a harrumph before tossing the photo back into the box.
“My mom didn’t seem to recognize you.”
“Don’t think she’s seen me yet, to be honest, she’s a little out of it.”
I scoff, “Just a tad.”
“It’s all gonna be alright, kid.”
I pull my gaze away from him, looking around my room for anything I might’ve missed. “For who?”
“You, her, your old man, even that fella out there. Everybody’s gonna be alright.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Sure I do. You’re gonna move to Phoenix with your old man and get a fresh start, your ma’s going to rehab, and that fella- well, maybe I don’t know about him, but he’ll get on, I’m sure.”
I twist to look at him, “Rehab?”
“Your old man’s sending her away to get clean.”
“How does he have the money to pay off all her debt, cart me around, and send her to a care facility?”
“The club does well. We own a series of businesses ranging from tattoo parlors to law offices. And we’re a family; we take care of one another.”
“Yeah, right. People only ever take care of themselves. Once they’ve gotten their fill, they move on.”
“You take care of your ma, don’t you?”
“Does she look taken care of?”
“I didn’t ask if you controlled her, I asked if you took care of her.”
“No, not really. I only ever really see her when she needs something.”
“Do you give it to her?”
“Are you asking if I’m an enabler?”
“No. I’m asking if you give her what she needs to survive, whether that’s money, food, or a clean pair of clothes.”
I shrug, “Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Cause she’s my mom.”
“Cause she’s family.”
“She’s blood.”
“So am I.” He taps his chest, “Blood and bone just like you.”
“I mean she’s biologically linked to me.”
“If you found out she wasn’t your biological mom, would you give up and let her starve or go without somewhere to sleep?”
I go to answer but stop, letting his words soak in, “No, but she raised me, she would still be my mom.”
“Same thing.”
“No, it’s not, you guys are ‘brothers’ through a shared hobby. Men who fought together in wars or have been lifelong friends, those are suitable brothers. Hanging out with someone for a year making him do grunt work and then giving him a piece of fabric isn’t.”
“So you do know what a motorcycle club is.”
“I’ve seen Sons of Anarchy if that’s what you’re asking.”
He laughs long and hard, “No wonder you think we’re going to kidnap you and leave you for dead. That’s a terrible reference to use for an MC. We’re a group of people who have come together because of life events, similar interests and share the same outlook on life. We watch each other’s backs and we defend our own, no matter what, without fail.”
“So, because I’m supposedly his kid I fall under the without fail part?” He nods, “So kidnapping is considered without fail?”
“You’re not being kidnapped.”
“You’re taking me against my will.”
“We’re offering you a better life.”
“Who says I need a better life? What’s wrong with my life, apart from the junkie?”
“Go take a hard look in the mirror and ask me that question again.”
“This is the first time it’s happened and it just looks bad.”
“I’m sure they all say that.”
“Y’all ready?” Salt and Pepper AKA Taker AKA dear dad, calls down the hall.
“You good?”
“Once we get where we’re going you can’t stop me from leaving.”
“I know.”
“As long as we understand each other.”
I turn for the door but get yanked back. Moose has his gorilla hands around my backpack.
“I’ll
take this. You get your box.” He nods to the bed.
“I don’t need it.”
“Trust me. You don’t wanna leave stuff like that behind.”
With another tug, he pulls the pack from my hands and waits for me to pick up the circular box. I pull the picture of my mom and me out before slipping the lid on; I walk past him and into the kitchen where everyone is still standing.
“Do I get to say goodbye?” I ask daddy dearest.
“She passed out.”
“So, no then?”
He takes an annoyed step back and waves me forward.
T-Bo is leaning against the wall when I approach my mom. He wasn’t lying; she lays on her side fast asleep. I try to ignore the track marks as I pull her arm out from under her and place the photo in her hand.
“I love you.” Kissing her forehead, I fight the tears that are burning my eyes.
Fingers brush my elbow, “Em-”
I shake T-Bo’s hand off me and walk past him without offering him a single word, thought, or look. He promised he’d protect me but instead he fed me to the lions.
Chapter Five
EMMA
I rode with Moose in a truck from Elk Grove to Phoenix. It was a twelve-hour drive, and we only stopped twice. I swear, my bladder stretched twice its natural size. Thankfully, while pretending to sleep I actually passed out, so the trip was relatively fast and quiet.
Reaching Phoenix, we pull into an L-shaped automotive repair shop and park in front of the brick building.
“Come on, Princess. We’re here.”
“Where’s here?” I ask, looking around the deserted lot.
“Clubhouse.”
My first giggle escapes, “Not like Sons of Anarchy, huh?”
“We laid claim first.” He winks at me, “Want me to get your bag or would you be more comfortable hanging on to it?”
“I’ll take it.” The first opportunity I have, I’m making a run for it.
“Don’t forget your box.” He nods to the hat box sitting between us.
He climbs out first while I unbuckle myself and gather my trash, placing it in a grocery bag.
“Hey,” I call, before he can close the door. He nods in response, “What’s your real name?”
His mouth curves up on the side, “Henry.” His smile grows little by little, “Henry Jameson.”
Jameson? Before I can grill him about having the same last name as me, my door opens and I look up, Salt and Pepper offers his hand, “Don’t worry about that. Here, I’ll take your bag.”
“I’ve got it,” I tell him hoisting it onto my back, I don’t trust him with it, I have a feeling he’ll hold my measly belongings hostage.
“Suit yourself.”
He steps out of the way so I can climb out, grabbing the box and the trash bag on my way out, I stand awkwardly as I wait for him to leave.
“After you.” He waves me forward.
“Cause I know where I’m going.” I quip.
“Follow them.” He nods to the nine or so guys walking.
Stepping away from the truck I follow the men around to the mouth of the building. Music blares through the closed doors. Lights have been set up under a massive covered porch where people laugh and drink while greeting one another.
“Henry Jameson?”
“What about him?”
“Jameson?”
He looks down at me for a moment, his green eyes a carbon copy of my own, “He’s my brother, your uncle.” He opens the door, the music growing louder. I stand there, my feet cemented to the ground as my heart hammers in my chest. “Emma.” He nods inside with a look of impatience.
Not really seeing many options, I walk inside and wait for him to lead me wherever it is we’re going.
Keeping my head low, I try to avoid walking into people as everyone swarms in to greet him. He says his hellos and promises to be back, before moving forward, with me on his heels. We climb a set of stairs to the second floor, from here he leads me down the long hallway and opens a door. It’s a bedroom, nothing overly fancy but it’s got a bed, a dresser, and its own bathroom.
“You’ll be crashing here tonight.” Swell. “There’s food downstairs, when you’re ready.”
Without another word, he walks out, closing the door behind him.
The second his footsteps fade, I twist the lock and quickly move to the window- shit. It’s a straight shot to the ground, no way to safely get down. The one in the bathroom is no different. Flopping down on the mattress I release a defeated breath.
Well, shit.
Chapter Six
Drew
Current Day
Her teeth graze my dick and I become increasingly more nervous.
“Careful, baby.” I bite out, digging my fingers deeper into her hair. She takes this as praise but in reality, I’m just doing it as a precaution in case Jaws here decides to take a bite out of me.
I just wanted to let out a little steam from this fucking awful day. I knew I’d wake up with a hangover from hell, what I didn’t know was that Haley’s dad was going to show up and scare the shit out of her.
Slipping deeper down this girls throat in the parking lot of HEAT isn’t nearly enough to make me forget the horror on her face when she pulled her shirt off and exposed her past to Parker and I. Fuck, dude. I can’t make the images stop. That dead look on her face when Parker was freaking out, the unattached words, her fucking sobs.
Bending low, I collect this girls shoulders and pull her away from the mediocre blow job. Lifting her mouth to mine, I try to force the image out as I consume her mouth, it’s not enough.
“Bend over.” I whisper against her drunken lips, “Hands on the seat, push your ass out.”
Bambi on ice spins and hikes her dress over her ass, exposing a pair of red lace underwear. Any other day I probably would have appreciated them, not tonight.
Using my foot, I tap the inside of her heels to make her spreads her legs further apart as I pull the fabric down to her knees.
Her drunken purrs do nothing for me as I roll on a rubber and try to fuck away my frustrations. Usually, this is a pretty good way to make the noise in my head stop, I don’t know if it’s the fact this girl’s a bad lay or not but it’s only frustrating me more.
Grabbing a handful of her hair, I pull her upright so her back is against my chest when my phone lights up on the dashboard.
First things first, I’m kind of a dick. I feel it’s important for you to know this because I’m about to demonstrate just how big of one I am. One hand holds her against my chest as the other reaches for my phone. Don’t look at me like that; I already admitted I was an asshole.
Unlocking my phone, I open the text:
Haley Bailey: I promised I'd stay as long as I could. I’m sorry. xxHaley
My body immediately stills as her words sink into my flesh with icy claws.
“Why are you stopping?” My drunken date whines as she wiggles her ass against me.
Pulling out, I tuck my dick in my pants and call Haley’s phone that goes straight to voicemail, fuck.
“Don’t you dare run!” I yell into the phone, trying to get the drunken heap to fucking move, “Do you hear me? Don’t you fucking do it!”
Hanging up, I redial her number, my fingers flying over the keys as fast as my panicked heartbeat.
“Look,” I turn my attention to the girl while listening to the phone ring, “I have to go, it’s an emergency. Do you have a ride home?”
“I thought I was going home with you.” She whines, leaning into my chest.
“Can you get a ride?”
“Why can’t I come with?”
“Oh, for the love of everything. Come here.” She grabs my outstretched hand and stumbles behind me as I walk back over to the entrance of HEAT.
“Where are we going?”
“Haley, answer the damn phone!” I growl into the receiver, ignoring her.
I continue to redial as we approach the front, Simon looks confused as I
push the blonde in his direction. “I’ve got an emergency, get her a cab.”
Not waiting for a response from either of them, I turn and run back to Josh’s truck. Throwing my phone in the passenger seat, I start the engine while the Bluetooth calls Parker and gun it out of the lot.
This is not happening, not happening. His phone goes to voicemail as well. My hand bounces off the steering wheel while I impatiently wait for the green arrow that will lead me to their apartment complex.
“Come on.. come on.”
The light turns and I floor it through the intersection, not giving a fuck about a ticket. Pulling into tenant parking, I kill the engine before rushing out of the cab and running down the walkway. My pulse is in my ears while a fine layer of sweat dots my skin.
“She took off.” Parker’s winded voice rings out behind me. Halting, I turn around to see him coming up the southside walkway with his hands in his hair.
“When?”
“Seconds ago. She got in a car with Kaylan and bolted.”
“The fuck?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Where were you?” Sure it’s an asshole response, especially when that’s his girl that just drove away and all, but it was the first thing that came out. I meet him halfway and follow as he leads me the way he came.
“She locked me out. I was at the front door and she left through the fucking window.”
We stop in front of her bedroom. Son of bitch, I’m gonna ring her hot little neck, I swear to God.
Without thinking twice, I climb through the hole and enter her dark room desperate for his words to be a lie, for this all to be some sick fucking joke, and once inside I’ll see her sitting there smiling like an idiot.
Maneuvering around her bed, I flip the light switch and look around. Shit is more or less in its rightful spot, except the majority of clothes from the open dresser and of course, my best friend is fucking missing.
“What do we do?” I ask, turning to Parker who’s closing and locking her window.
“I don’t know.”
“Do we call the cops?”
Parker shakes his head looking around the room. The dude looks like he’s in hell. “I don’t know.”