Something flashed through the woman’s eyes. I couldn’t tell what it was, exactly, and that worried me. Maybe I’d said too much.
“You can’t see him.” She lifted her chin. “His room is heavily guarded and you’d be asking for trouble if you tried.”
“Is he okay? He’s still alive then?” I held my breath.
“Yes. The doctor was here earlier to treat him. He’s going to be okay.”
“So, will you tell me where he is? Please? I need to get a message to him.”
“No, lovely. I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”
My shoulders fell and tears gathered in my eyes. I knew it was a long shot, that it would be far too easy just to walk inside and take him out of here. But the thought of never hugging him or kissing him again left me all sorts of crazy.
A hand settled on my shoulder then, and soft words of reassurance filled my ears. “Let me rephrase this for you. I can’t help you. But Angel can.”
I lifted my head again, hope flickering in my chest.
“Would you like to give him a message?” she asked.
“Yes, please.”
She walked over to a desk and returned with a pen and a small piece of paper. “But you have to do it right now and then go back to wherever you were, do you understand me?”
I nodded, relief flooding through me. Even as my hands shook, I penned him a letter on my knee, spilling everything in me, including the tears as they fell on the ink.
I told him what I could. About Chop, and my mom’s loyalty to this club most of all. Then I told him how I felt about him. And that because of that, I’d texted Niyol and told him what was happening, where we were headed. That I wanted Archer safe and they needed to be here to help make that happen. Archer would be mad at me for telling his brothers, but in the end I’d done it because I cared about him… though cared was a mild word compared to how I really felt about Archer Benedict.
The woman touched my arm in reassurance when I finished. She took the letter, not reading it, then folded it up and gave it to Angel. “Alright. Angel will drop this off tonight.”
I nodded again. “Okay. Yes. Thank you.”
She smiled but chose to stay quiet.
“What about my mom? When do you think I can see her again?” Even if I was going to leave without her, I wanted to say goodbye.
“You’ll see her in two days when we leave this place. I’m guessing since you’re Pops’s daughter, that you three will be riding in a car together.”
My stomach dipped into my toes. “Leaving?”
“Yes. We stay in places for only one or two weeks at a time.”
I licked my dry lips. “Um, do you know where we’re going next?”
She shook her head slowly. “That’s never disclosed to the women, I’m afraid. But I’ve heard rumors…”
“What kind of rumors?” I stiffened.
“Pops is ready to move in on his territory in Rockford.”
“Oh, God.” I’d been right, which meant everyone at the Red Dragon club was in danger.
For now, there was nothing I could do about them. But maybe getting this woman and her son on my side might help.
“Can you tell me how you became a part of this place?” I winced, wondering if it had been a choice.
She hesitated, looking at Angel, then Maisy, and finally me, blowing out a long breath as she did. “We don’t have much time, and I fear we’re always being watched.” She looked to Angel, who’d moved across the room to stand closer to the door. He crossed his arms like a warrior, and it made my heart swell.
So young, yet so brave. I could tell just by looking at him that he was one of the good guys.
“Please.” I looked back to the woman, taking her hand in mine. I didn’t even know her name. “You can trust me.”
She patted my hand, and a small dimple formed on her right cheek when she smiled. I studied it, frowning. Archer had one there too.
“I was stolen from my husband and family in my country fifteen years ago, sold to a cartel that traded women and young girls for money and drugs and weapons.”
I put a hand to my mouth.
“It’s okay. I was one of the lucky ones. I managed to escape, and thank God too, because I was pregnant.” Pregnant. Alone in a country she wasn’t familiar with.
“Did you ever try to go home? Back to Ireland, I mean?”
She nodded. “Yes. I very much did. But I had no money, no way to contact them. Angel and I lived in homeless shelters, hiding out from my kidnappers for years.”
“And you never went to the police?”
“No. I was too scared. By the time I had enough money to leave the country, I’d found out that my husband and son had left for America, and I had no idea where they were.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Every connection I had with them back home was lost. But then last year, I heard…” She paused, and tears filled her eyes. I stood, if only so I could hug her, but Angel had moved away from the door and was by her side in a blink, his arm around her shoulder.
“I’m fine.” She tried to shoo him away, but he was determined not to let her go. It was there in her son’s arms, though, that she was able to finish her story.
“I was working at a convenience store in Missouri about six months ago, just barely making ends meet. Then one day I looked up and there was a man standing in front of me. He told me he knew my husband and son. And he’d take me to them, but I had to do him a favor first.”
“What kind of favor?”
She rubbed a shaky hand over her mouth. “Help him with his cause when it comes to the club. I serve him and the brothers, as a mother, a wife, a cleaner, a nurse, a vessel to their, um… needs. Whether sexually or any other way.” She laughed bitterly. “It’s sad that a group of men like this still needs a woman to help them with their daily needs.”
In other words, she was a slave.
“How did Pops find you?” I asked, struggling to hold back my shudder.
She shrugged. “I’m unsure.”
I listened with a lump in my throat as she continued to speak about the things she’d gone through. How Angel, who had just turned fourteen, had been forced to be a brother, to bulk up and be a man, to prospect, she’d said. If he didn’t, then he’d never see his mother alive again.
As the words began to spill out about her family before, the ones she’d lost after being taken from Ireland, I realized without a shadow of a doubt who this woman and her son really were. They shared the same haunting eyes, the same light skin too… They were a family. She was Archer’s mother. And Angel was Archer’s little brother.
There was a lump in my throat when she finished, one I couldn’t swallow away. I barely even knew these two people, but I’d still do whatever possible to help them get out of there.
“I’m so, so sorry.” I bowed my head, setting my chin to my chest.
“Nothing about this is your fault, dear,” she said as she stood from her seat and moved in front of me, setting both hands on my shoulders.
“But I brought Archer here and put him in danger. I—”
“Yes. You did. But you are also saving lives, don’t you see?” she asked.
I looked up, meeting her eyes. “How?”
“Because, my dear, you’re the key to our escape.”
Twenty-Seven
Archer
Angel was there in the room with me this morning. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I had a brother. An actual blood brother. Of course, he wasn’t alone—Chop was with him, sitting at the table, looking bored out of his damn mind as he watched on.
“Watch the blade, would ya, kid?” I hissed as the razor in Angel’s hand nicked my skin. I knew he couldn’t help it. He was young. Probably never shaved a day in his life. Still, one wrong move, and he’d slit my fucking throat. I wasn’t too big on dying before I had a chance to kiss Emily again.
Her soft lips, meeting mine, the stuff of fantasies come true. I’d been reliving that kiss
we shared every time I shut my eyes. It was the only thing that was keeping me alive right now. The only thing that encouraged me to push through and get out of here.
Of all the goddamn things they could be doing, the fact that Chop insisted on the kid shaving my hair off this morning was the most messed up part of this day. Not that it mattered. Half my skull was hairless now anyways, what with Pops and Chop both yanking it out.
The buzz echoed throughout my skull like thunder. I likely had a concussion. Probably some broken ribs too. I had no idea why they were keeping me alive at all. Did they think Flick would barter with them for me when the time came? Because he wouldn’t. I was VP, yeah. But that didn’t matter if it meant Flick would be giving up the land and power he’d gained by taking over the club.
“Yeah, you’re lucky I don’t use the damn things to cut other shit off your body right now.” Chop pulled a cigarette out of his box and tucked it between his lips.
I smirked. “If you think I’m gonna apologize for being with my woman, you’re wrong.”
“She’s not yours.” Chop stood, pushing his chair over and crouching down in front of me. The Angel kid stopped with the clippers, moving away just in time for Chop to grab me by the chin and get in my face. “Not after what I did to her last night.”
“You shut your damn mouth, motherfucker,” I growled so loud my throat burned. The harder I tugged on the cuffs around my arm, the more my already blistered skin burned too. The pain meant nothing to me at this point. Not when all I could think about was taking the razor in my kid brother’s hand and shoving it down Chop’s filthy throat.
“How’s it feel?” He lowered his mouth to my ear. “Knowing her pussy’s all mine?” His loud laugh echoed throughout the room, like he’d just won some kind of game.
When I got out of here, I would kill both him and Pops, then tell her I was ready to become a reformed man once and for all, if she’d have me.
“Not so pretty anymore.” He took a towel and slapped at my shaved head.
The stinging pain he’d caused was nothing in comparison to the rage boiling in my veins. Hot liquid, poisoning my already darkened soul. Even though I wanted to tell him what he could really do with his towel—hang himself would be nice—I felt my head falling forward again, as if I had another stream of drugs running through me that I didn’t know about. Two days of sitting upright, sleeping upright, cuffed to this wall… I wasn’t anywhere near where I needed to be in order to fight back and get out of here.
Chop finally left the room, leaving me alone with the kid—the kid who hadn’t moved since Chop had shoved him out of the way. I frowned, wishing I could look him in the eye and tell him there was a better way to live out there than this. But I couldn’t lift my head. Instead, I kept my eyes to the ground, watching it blur in and out of focus.
“You good, kid?” I managed.
He didn’t answer. Or move.
“I know you’re there,” I told him, lip curling as I looked to the wall. “Kinda hard to talk though when you’re behind me, don’t you think?”
I could hear him shuffling, moving closer. Somehow, I managed to glance over my shoulder at him, wincing at what I saw. His hands were at his sides, elbows locked, eyes down. He looked just like my old man. But the terrified version.
Casper. That’s what I’d rename him. A ghost.
“You’re the spitting image of him, you know,” I said, already out of breath. “He’d probably call you ugly like he did me.” I chuckled at my own joke.
His answer was to look at me again. Then blink.
What would it take to crack the kid? I bet Emily would know.
“You don’t talk a lot,” I continued, clearing my throat. My eyes were blurring around the edges, proof that I’d be passing out again soon.
His lips moved, opened, then shut. Then he looked to the ground and shook his head. Bet he’d been taught to shut up like that. Bet Pops had fucked him up real good to make it happen too. The thought pissed me off. Made me mad at my ma too. How could she let this happen?
“How long have you and Ma been with Pops?” I questioned, needing answers. As many as I could get. We didn’t have much time.
He hesitated, looking at the door, which was closed still, then back at me before he finally said, “S-six months.”
“Huh.” I nodded. “Wanna tell me how you all got together?” What I really needed to know was where the fuck my ma had been all this time. Most importantly, why she hadn’t tried to find me and my old man.
“Pops.”
“He found you?”
The kid nodded, fidgeting a little more.
“Sit.” I pointed to the chair across from me. “I’m not gonna ask you for help here. I just want some answers.” I cleared my throat once more, my mouth drying up, my tongue getting thicker. “Me and the old man thought Ma was dead. Thought someone killed her.”
His green eyes went wide; I could see that clearly. “You… know Dad?”
“Yeah.” A knot built in my throat at the thought of the old man. “Knew Dad.”
The drunk protector. The guy who’d nearly given everything up after he thought his wife was gone for good. Then one day when I was fourteen, he’d remarried after knowing my stepmom for two weeks. It was his way of trying to help me, no doubt in my mind, but my old man never loved that women. His heart lost the ability to love the second they found Ma’s body. Or what was supposed to be her body.
Then one day, six months after he’d married again, he ended that shitshow, packed up our shit, and said to me, We’re moving to America. I’d tried to ask why, didn’t like the idea of leaving my friends and school, but he’d told me I’d make new friends where we were going. The best kind too.
Never did finish school, only got to the middle of tenth grade actually. But I did find the best damn friends a guy could have, and a family I thought I’d never know, in the RDs.
Later I found out from Flick the reason why he came to the US in the first place. Apparently, he’d thought there was a lead here when it came to Ma’s killer, which never made sense to me because she’d been shot back home in Ireland. But a month into this supposed lead, Dad found himself down a dead-end road and called it quits after nearly getting shot up himself.
Then his spiral into the bottle happened, and his heart was too broken to heal this time. When he died, I didn’t shed a tear. Because that man wasn’t my dad. That man was a ghost.
Fitting, as his unknown new son acted like one.
“Where… is he?” Angel’s voice cracked. I almost asked what was wrong with him, but didn’t wanna be a dick.
I shrugged and looked at the floor. “He’s dead, kid.”
Angel’s shoulders grew stiff, and both of his eyes narrowed. Already I could tell he was Ma’s fierce protector, even if it was obvious Pops could squeeze his little neck with one hand and end him in a heartbeat. Still, I admired his fight.
His face relaxed after a while but he didn’t look away. Brave little shit he was. He’d make a good RD—the right kind of RD. I bet he and Mute would get along real well.
I watched then as he stood and pulled something from his pocket. A piece of paper. He opened it slowly, glancing quickly over his shoulder toward the door before giving it to me. I could see the ink there. Curly words in black. Feminine. I blinked at it then looked at him again; everything was too unfocused. I wasn’t sure how the fuck I was gonna read it.
“What’s that?” I nodded at it with my chin.
He turned it around, letting me see, only to whisper back the most important word in my life: “Emily.”
Twenty-Eight
Emily
I’d been locked up for two days since that night I’d met Archer’s mom. She’d told me to go back, that she had a plan, and I’d been waiting here trying to believe her.
Chop had been checking on me—he’d told me that I wasn’t allowed to leave without him. That it wasn’t safe. So, he hated me but still chose to protect me for some reason. I half
wondered if he felt bad about what he was doing or if, all along, he was still working under Flick.
Today was the day we were supposed to be leaving. And another day where the Red Dragons hadn’t shown to rescue Archer. I didn’t want to lose hope… but it was fading with every breath I took. If Anne didn’t have a plan to leave after all, then I’d be doing this all on my own.
I was tired of being a prisoner.
It was time to get out of here. Jumping up off the floor and onto my feet, I straightened the front of my shirt out and lifted my chin. Sacrificing myself for the sake of Archer’s release would be the easy part. Getting Archer to agree with it would not. Even still, I’d do what was necessary. I’d give up my life just so he could continue living his.
If Pops was that generous, of course.
Before I could make the move to leave, the front door opened and slammed against the wall with a loud bang. I jumped, covering my ears as Angel appeared in the door frame like, well, an Angel.
“What are you doing?”
He scowled at me and shook his head as he said, “No… time.”
A second later, he moved in closer and grabbed my arm, pulling me behind him out the front door.
“Angel, what’s going…?”
Then everything happened so quickly that I barely registered any of it.
A huge explosion sounded, and within moments of the noise, the front of the building across from Chop’s place was in flames.
“Oh, God,” I murmured, pushing around Angel.
Pops was at the building’s entrance, holding Anne by her hair. He shoved her to the ground with an audible grunt, causing her to cry out.
“N-no,” Angel growled.
Pops dug his foot into the back of Anne’s skull, forcing her forehead to dig into the cement. I covered my mouth with both hands, fighting the urge to scream. Another explosion sounded in the distance, and smoke billowed up into the sky toward the back of the building. I looked around, frantic, thinking I’d see my mom or Archer, but neither of them were there.
Her Hot Ride: A gripping and sexy biker mc romantic suspense novel Page 21