Surviving Storm (Kings Reapers MC Book 7)

by Nicola Jane

  I take a walk around the yard, giving them time alone until Blade comes. It feels uncomfortable and Storm clearly isn’t happy to see me. I didn’t expect him to be, not after everything, but I guess a small part was hopeful he’d at least have a twinkle in his eye.

  Blade finally arrives, and I watch from my place across the yard while Storm kisses her with the same amount of force he once kissed me. I rub my aching heart and wait for her to leave before I head back towards him.

  “So,” he mutters coldly, “what did you wanna talk about that’s not been important enough for the last year?”

  “How have you been? How’s Seb?”

  He glares at me, and I pray for the earth to open and swallow me whole. “Why are you here, Charlotte?”

  “What I’m about to tell you might be a shock,” I mumble, scuffing my trainers in the dirt. “And I don’t want it to change anything. I’m telling you because Lake said I had to, but I don’t expect anything from you. In fact, I’m quite happy to go back to my life and never see you again,” I add. Storm sighs impatiently. “After I left—”

  I turn as three black cars come screeching into the yard. It all happens so fast, Storm grabs me and pulls me behind him. He pulls out a gun and backs us into the caravan. “Fuck,” he hisses. “Get my phone out of my pocket,” he orders. “Stay behind me and text Riggs now. Tell him the last two guys have found us, he’ll know what that means. Tell him you’re here with me.”

  I place my shaking hand into his back pocket and shrink behind him while doing exactly what he’s instructed. “Now, turn it to silent and tuck it into your knickers.”

  “What?” I hiss, peeking out over his shoulder. Men are now out of the cars and walking towards us with guns raised.

  “Do it now. Riggs can track us, and they won’t check your underwear.”

  I roll my eyes. I’ve not had this drama for over a year and here I am shoving a phone into my underwear within five minutes of being in contact with Storm.

  “You found me,” says Storm, as the guys circle the caravan. “You kind of pissed on my parade cos I was coming for you later, and now you’ve beat me to it,” he adds.

  “I was always too impatient to wait for anything,” says one of the men. “Who’s your friend?”

  “No one important. She’s just leaving.”

  “Not anymore. Put the gun down and step out here for me, Storm. We have some things we’d like to discuss.”

  “Let my friend go, and I’ll happily do whatever you want.”

  “Don’t be stupid. You’re outnumbered. You’d be dead before you managed to pull the trigger,” says another man, and I frown. I recognise that voice, yet I can’t seem to place it.

  Storm flicks open his gun and empties the bullets out onto the ground. “What the hell are you doing?” I hiss.

  “You have to stay calm. We’re gonna go with them. We don’t have a choice,” he whispers back. “Riggs will find us.”

  “Are you crazy?” I almost shriek. “I’m not going with them. This has nothing to do with me.”

  Storm throws the gun out and reaches behind to find my hand. I let him take it. “Be brave, butterfly,” he whispers, stepping out of the caravan doorway and leading me with him.

  “Good choice. I really didn’t want to kill you out here when I’m wearing my best suit,” says one of the men. “Again, who is your friend?”

  Storm pulls me to his side, and my world tilts when I lay eyes on Ali Mosafo. How the fuck is he here? He recognises me the exact moment I recognise him, and a smirk pulls at his lips. “Is this who it’s all about?” he asks, grinning before breaking out into a laugh. He pats the shoulder of the man beside him. “Fuck me. You remember Charlotte? Fucked-up kid. We called her ‘Irish’.”

  His friend grins in recognition. “Christ, she had a mouth like a vacuum,” he sniggers.

  I feel my face redden, and for a second, I’m thrown back in time to being fifteen years old and feeling that shame wash over me as they leer and make fun of me.

  “You’re telling me all this hassle is over this bitch?” asks Ali.

  “Her pussy must still be fucking amazing,” adds his friend.

  Storm almost growls as he lunges forward and punches Ali’s friend in the face. Four large men rush and seize Storm by the arms, bustling him towards a car. “You can ride with me, Irish.” Ali smiles and grabs me by the wrist, dragging me towards a separate car.

  Ali leans over and pulls the seatbelt around me. The same aftershave assaults my nostrils just like it did back then. Just the smell of him makes me want to vomit. He runs a finger over my bare knee, and I shudder, staring hard out the window and doing my best to angle my body away from him. “Now, you know the routine, Irish. I’ll need your phone.” He holds out his hand, and I pull my phone from my pocket, pressing it hard into his palm. “Good girl.”

  A million questions race through my mind, the main one being how the hell Ali and Storm know each other. Is it pure coincidence or is the club involved in something with these guys? My stomach churns. To think, I almost told Storm about Elsie.

  We travel for at least a half-hour before we pull into a carpark. It’s to a block of high-rise flats. Ali was big around this area when I was a kid, which is why I was so easily impressed. It seemed like everyone knew him. “Welcome back to my palace,” he says, clipping a handcuff around my wrist and attaching it to his own. “We’re going inside without a fuss. If you draw attention to us, I’ll begin shooting parts of your boyfriend until he bleeds out.” It’s not an idle threat. I once watched him use a spoon to pop a man’s eyeball out of the socket.

  Storm is also handcuffed and flanked by several men as we enter the high-rise and Ali calls for the lift. He pulls me inside while Storm is left with the others as the doors close and we ascend to the tenth floor.

  We go into the same flat I used to come to all those years ago. Nothing’s changed. There are still men hanging around. The carpets and walls are still stained and filthy. The rooms have mattresses thrown on the floors with no bed sheets. “Make yourself at home. I need to talk to the boss about you.” Ali uncuffs himself, then cuffs my wrists together. When he shoves me into a room, I lose my balance, falling hard onto a dirty mattress. I screw my face up and wriggle myself into a seated position. A minute later, Storm is also shoved into the room, his hands also cuffed.

  Storm leans against the wall. His chest is rising and falling at a rapid rate, and he looks pissed. “How do you know Ali?” I ask quietly.

  “Riggs’ll never find us in here,” he whispers angrily. “He’ll get a signal to this building, but there must be three hundred flats in here.”

  I glance nervously at the open bedroom door. There are two men leaning against the opposite wall with guns in their hands. Riggs will get shot the second he enters.

  “This place is exactly the same as before,” I mutter. “Tell me how you know each other,” I almost plead.

  STORM

  There’s no way around this. I have to come clean, but before I can, Ali fills the doorway.

  “It’s been a long time, gorgeous. You’re still as beautiful as ever.” He smirks at Lottie, and she shies away. “Come on, baby, I know you ain’t shy. I remember those parties we had. You were wild.”

  “I was a scared kid,” she mutters.

  “There was nothing childlike about you.” He sneers. “I gave you a good life, and you ran away like an ungrateful bitch.”

  “A good life?” she repeats, scoffing. “You’re deluded. You’re a paedophile, Ali. I was never here because I wanted to be.”

  He marches towards her and hauls her up by her upper arm. I move forward, and he laughs at me. “What are you gonna do with your arms behind your back?”

  “Touch her and you’ll find out,” I growl.

  “Man, I did more than touch her back in the day. She fucking loved it. She could entertain a whole room of men.” He sneers, and my head crashes against his before he manages to finish his sentence. His nose
bursts and blood splatters across his face, splashing over Lottie’s white top. The two men from outside the room rush in and grab me, shoving me hard against the wall and holding me there. Ali smiles, his white teeth coated with crimson fluid. “Just for that,” he hisses, “I’ll give you a private show of my friends and I showing your girl a good time.”

  “I’ll fucking kill you, just like I did your friends,” I yell, pushing against the two men who struggle to keep me against the wall.

  Ali laughs, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jumper. “We spent weeks trying to figure out who was coming for us. If I’d have known it was over this little whore, I’d have killed her and her kid,” he spits.

  “Elsie,” gasps Lottie, and my eyes fix on her scared face.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart, she’s safe for now.”

  Lottie loses her shit. Her face changes and she uses her cuffed hands to shove Ali hard. He stumbles back, sniggering, and she rushes him again, hitting her hands against his chest. “You leave my daughter out of this,” she screams. “I’ll fucking rip your heart out if you hurt her.”

  Ali steps away, his confident smile faltering. “Do as you’re told, and I might spare her from the life you should have had,” he snaps, tipping his head to the men holding me. “But you mess me around, and I’ll sell her within the hour.”

  They all leave, and Ali locks the door behind him. I stare at Lottie in disbelief. She had a kid?

  Chapter Eighteen

  LOTTIE

  Storm’s eyes are wide. “I meant to tell you,” I mutter feebly. “It’s why I came to see you.”

  “So, what, you’re married? Single? You were only gone a year. That’s quick work. You can’t have known the kid’s dad long,” he says, confusion on his face. I realise he hasn’t worked it out and my lips form an O shape. “I mean, I didn’t expect you to stay single or never move on,” he adds. “But you said you didn’t want all that. Was it with me you didn’t want it or . . .” he trails off, looking sad and lost.

  “That’s why I came to see you. Elsie is our daughter, Storm. She’s yours.” His eyes narrow and he swallows hard, and I watch his throat bob up and down. When he doesn’t speak, I fill the silence by rambling. “But like I started to say earlier before these idiots showed up, I don’t expect anything from you and I’ll happily go back to my life. Lake said I had to tell you—”

  Storm cuts in. “And if he hadn’t, would you have?”

  I pause for a moment, then shake my head sadly. “No, probably not.”

  “You fucking selfish bitch,” he mutters, turning away from me.

  “I thought it was best for all of us,” I explain. “We were so messed up.”

  Storm kicks the door, and someone unlocks it and opens it slightly. “I want a different room, away from her,” growls Storm. I roll my eyes, because now he’s being stupid.

  “Tough shit. This ain’t a fucking hotel,” snaps a man the other side of the door before slamming it closed again.

  He keeps his back to me. “I can’t change the past, but now you know the truth. She’s gorgeous, Storm. She has big brown eyes and your dimples,” I say softly.

  “Get the phone out,” he mutters coldly.

  “We were too toxic together. I’d probably still be self-harming and you’d be drinking. Lake said you’ve stopped. That’s really great, by the way.”

  “Fuck, Lottie, I can’t think straight. Shut the hell up and get the phone out,” he growls.

  I struggle to get my cuffed hands into my underwear, but when I eventually do, I grip the phone and throw it down on the mattress. I kneel, and Storm stands behind me, watching as I press the screen to light it up. There’s a message from Riggs saying they’re tracking us. “Press call,” orders Storm, and so I do. “Now hold it to my ear.”

  I hear Riggs answer and say a few words to Storm. “Yeah, it’s the tenth floor. I have a feeling all the flats on this floor belong to these guys. It might be best to tip off the cops. There’s gonna be girls here.” He pauses for Riggs’ response. “There’s at least fifteen men in this place. All armed. Fuck knows how many more are hanging about. Hit it when it gets dark. We can hold out till then.”

  When he’s finished, I hide the phone back in my underwear. “What if Ali comes for me before dark?” I ask.

  “He won’t,” he snaps. “You’re too old for him now. He was never looking for you in the first place. You shouldn’t have showed up today.”

  “I had to tell you about Elsie,” I say. “How could he have known about her?”

  “I don’t know, Lottie. I don’t fucking know,” he mutters, sighing. “How old is she?”

  “Three months,” I say. He glares at me, his eyes cold and mistrusting. “I didn’t find out until I was five months pregnant. I hurt myself pretty bad,” I explain, holding up my arms so he can see the scars. “I was taken into hospital, and they discovered it when they did blood tests. I wanted to call you then, but I was ridden with guilt over what happened to Seb and there I was still doing it. It made me sick to my stomach knowing I could have taken my own life as well as our baby’s. From that moment on, I stopped.”

  “You should have called me,” he mutters.

  “As time went on, I found excuses not to. Were you still drinking? Was Seb well again? Would Taya try and take her away from me?”

  “Why would Taya do that?” he snaps.

  I shrug. “I don’t know, but that’s the sort of thing in my head at the time. We were hardly fit parents.”

  “I asked her to take legal guardianship over Seb—which I now have back, by the way—so I could get help for the drinking. I’ve been sober for nine months,” he says.

  “That’s great,” I say, beaming. I’m genuinely happy for him.

  “But I can’t deny that when I found out you were back in London, I wanted to drink again. You’re right, we’re not good for each other, but just cos we have a kid doesn’t mean we have to be together. I’ve got a new life now. Maybe things will work out with Emily. Who knows? But they didn’t work out with us, and there’s no point raking over it all again. We’ll get out of here and meet up to discuss co-parenting and shit,” he says, and my eyes widen. “What?” he snaps. “You think you can drop that bombshell on me and walk away? She’s my daughter. I want to see her.”

  “And I’m happy for supervised contact to take place, but co-parenting—”

  “Supervised visits?” He scoffs. “Are you fucking with me?”

  “You’ve never met her. She doesn’t know you,” I protest.

  “And whose fault is that?” he growls.

  My blood rushes around, making me dizzy. I’m not ready to share my baby girl, not even with her father. “You’ve kept her from me for three months, Lottie. You won’t make this difficult for me,” he says, his tone warning.

  The door opens and Ali steps in. “Let’s go, beautiful,” he says firmly.

  “Where?” I ask, glancing at Storm.

  “To paradise.” He grins, gripping my arm and pulling me towards the door.

  “Storm?” I plead.

  “Not even he can help you now,” Ali says, sneering.

  STORM

  I pace the small room. She’s been gone hours. It’s starting to get dark outside, and I regret telling Riggs to wait for nightfall. I was convinced nothing would happen until then, and why would they take Lottie? She’s out of their preferred age bracket. I twist my wrists again, wincing when pain stings where I’ve already tried to pull them through the tight metal cuffs. When the door finally opens and Lottie is shoved onto the mattress, I breathe a sigh of relief. She waits for the door to be locked before slowly rolling onto her back. I gasp. She’s taken a beating so bad, her eyes and face are swollen and bruised. “Jesus,” I hiss.

  She holds her arms out in front of her and blood pours from open cuts along each one. “They cut me,” she mutters, staring as the blood drips onto her jeans.

  “Christ, Lottie. Did they . . . do anything . . . else?”
/>
  “No,” she mumbles. “They beat me in front of some young girls. They wanted to scare them into doing as they say. They did the same when I was fifteen.”

  “Fuck,” I growl. “If Riggs doesn’t get here soon, you’re gonna bleed out.” Peering closer, the cuts go the length of both arms and they’re deep. “Shit.”

  “I’m feeling light-headed,” she whispers. “I need to lie down.”

  “Butterfly, don’t go to sleep. Talk to me,” I say, kneeling beside her.

  “I’m not your butterfly,” she whispers, smiling sadly. “Not anymore.”

  “You’ll always be my beautiful, broken butterfly,” I mutter. “Keep talking. Tell me about Elsie.”

  She smiles again, her eyes fluttering closed. “She’s so pretty. I know all mums say that about their babies, but she really is. She’s such a happy baby. Everyone says it.”

  “Yeah?” I say, grinning. “She must take after me.”

  Lottie gives a weak laugh. “She’s stubborn like you. I went a week over her due date.”

  Sadness hits me, because I should have been there for her birth. “You hate pain,” I mutter.

  “I miss Seb,” she mumbles. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

  “Don’t apologise like it’s the last time you’re gonna get a chance,” I snap. “Stay awake.”

  “I’m too tired,” she whispers, closing her eyes.

  “I killed them,” I say, and she flutters them open again. “Every fucking bastard who was involved in this paedophile ring is dead apart from the last two. Stay with me, because they’ll be dead before the sun rises. I promise.”

  She closes her eyes again. “Thank you,” she mutters, “for caring enough to go after them. I wish I knew you years ago. You would have saved me so much pain.”