The Nomad Series-Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  History has proven crime sells and society loves outlaws. Why do you think John Gotti or Victor Pastore graced so many headlines throughout the years? They sold more newspapers than any local hero ever did.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Gina asks from beside me, watching as I pin my hair up in a messy bun.

  Through the mirror, my eyes meet hers and I pause. Thinking about my answer, I weigh the choices in my mind as my visit with Jack Parrish yesterday plays in my head. Shaking my head, I turn to face her.

  “No, I’m not,” I admit. In my heart it feels wrong. I wonder if going on television will hurt my daughter more than it will save her. More than anything, I want someone to decide for me. I want someone to tell me what to do.

  If I hadn’t thrown Cobra out, I wouldn’t be alone in making my choice. It’s strange to think of all the trivial decisions I’ve made on Skylar’s behalf that I worried about at the time. All the decisions I wished for Cobra to be a part of. Now I’m alone facing one of the biggest decisions I’ll ever make as a mother, and I didn't have to be.

  “I wish he was here,” I whisper.

  “I know you do, but you need to realize he needs to be where he is, doing whatever it is he's doing too. Look, I won't pretend to have some sort of understanding when it comes to the club, especially since this is as new to me as it is to you, but I've seen firsthand what those men will do to protect their own.”

  “I'm not even sure Cobra is with them. He didn't come here yesterday with Jack.”

  “You threw him out and told him you didn't want to see him unless he had Skylar,” she reminds me. “Did you really expect him to walk in here with Jack?”

  I know my words were harsh, just like I know he’s hurting as much as I am. He hasn’t lashed out at me, no matter how much he felt the need to blame someone for what happened, and he probably needed it more than I did. He’s probably feeling all this more than me, but I didn’t take the time to think about his feelings.

  She places her hands on my shoulders and bends her knees to be eye level with me.

  “Skylar will come home, Celeste, and mark my words it will be Jack and Cobra who bring her back. I believe in them,” she whispers. “I believe in the way they didn’t let me down, the way they brought a sliver of justice to me, they will do the same for you.”

  The doorbell sounds and we both turn around as my father goes to answer it. With his hand on the door knob he turns back to me.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he questions. “Once we open this door and let these vultures in there won’t be any turning back,” he warns.

  Uncertainty claws at me as I wipe my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans. A fist pounds on the door and this time it’s followed by a deep baritone voice.

  Chills coat my arms.

  “Celeste, open the door, it’s Jack,” he calls from the other end.

  My father forgets about the reporters due to arrive and pulls open the door. I hear his gasp before I see the mass of blonde curls peek over his shoulder. Jack steps to the side of my father and my whole world goes still.

  “Mama!”

  “Oh my God,” I cry.

  Jack grins, pressing a kiss on top of Skylar’s head.

  “Go to your mama, sweetheart,” he whispers as he sets Skylar down on her feet.

  My body shudders as a sob escapes and I drop to my knees. Spreading my arms wide, I force a smile as she runs right into my embrace. I pictured this moment every second she was missing. I wondered how I’d feel or how I’d react, but I could never imagine the magnitude of love and relief I feel looking into her blue eyes. Holding her in my arms is like holding her for the first time. I fall in love with her all over again.

  The love a mother has for her child isn’t something she’s taught; it’s the foundation of her existence. It’s amazing what having a child will do to a person. It makes the life you lived before seem so insignificant. Since the moment she was born, I forgot what life was like without my daughter. These last few days I had a taste of life without Skylar and they were the worst days of my life.

  “Mama! Mama!”

  “Oh my, sweet girl, Mommy missed you so much,” I tell her as I squeeze her tightly.

  If I’m dreaming, please God never wake me up. I bury my nose in her hair, breathe her in and shower her with millions of kisses.

  “Thank you, Jack,” my father cries. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “No thanks required. We’re happy she’s where she belongs,” he says, turning back to me. He crosses his arms against his chest and takes in our reunion. Stryker steps into the apartment along with Blackie and they stare at me and my baby for a moment.

  They’re the men society makes you believe are the enemy. These men are the guys you frown upon and stick your noses up to. Shame on you and shame on me too because I’m just as guilty. However, I will never look at these men the same. I will never look at Jack Parrish and not think he is the greatest man I’ve ever known.

  “Is Deuce okay?” Gina asks Stryker as he wraps his arms around her.

  “He’s okay, roughed up a bit, but he’s okay,” he tells her.

  Lifting Skylar’s shirt, I continue to check her out. To my eyes she appears to be fine, but I’m going to take her to the hospital and make sure.

  “Where’s Cobra?” I ask them. “I want to take her to the hospital.”

  “Cobra wasn’t with us,” Blackie says, knitting his eyebrows in confusion as he studies me.

  Pressing a kiss to the top of Skylar’s head, I pull her onto my lap and wrap my arms around her before lifting her pants up.

  “What do you mean he wasn’t with you?” My father questions. “We’ve been trying to get in touch with him and his phone is off. We thought he was with you.”

  “Shit,” Blackie hisses, turning to Stryker. “The shipments are both moving today.”

  I peel my eyes off of my baby and fearfully glance between Stryker and Blackie, watching as the dread spills from their eyes.

  “You won’t find anything wrong with her,” Jack says, ignoring the conversation going on around him, unfazed by everything. “There was someone taking care of her the whole time.”

  Forcing my gaze back to him, I stand with Skylar in my arms but she squirms and I begrudgingly place her back down and wipe away the tears that are still sliding down my face.

  “What do you mean someone took care of her? Who?”

  Uncrossing his arms, Jack turns around and steps into the hallway. Curiously, I take a step forward but come to a complete standstill when Jack and Riggs usher in a disheveled looking woman.

  “Her,” Jack says, gauging my reaction.

  The woman struggles out of Riggs’ grip but fails. I take her in, starting with her poorly processed red hair that is matted and dry. Dressed in clothes that barely fit her, she is all skin and bones. Scratching her bare arms violently she lifts her head and stares at Stryker. A frown works the thin line of her lips and I find myself subconsciously taking another step closer to get a better look at her.

  After all, this stranger kept my baby safe.

  “Hello?”

  She turns her head and her blue eyes peer back at me.

  Through the dirt and grime covering her face, it’s those eyes that speak to me.

  They call to me.

  So familiar.

  Skylar walks over to her and the woman tears her eyes from me to look at my daughter. Her features soften as Skylar offers her a baby doll.

  “Ally, baby,” Skylar says.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper.

  Ally takes the doll from Skylar’s hand and looks back at me. I see beyond the knots in her hair, beyond the pock marks on her face and the bruises that cover her exposed skin. I look into the eyes of a person lost.

  A person I lost.

  “It can’t be,” I cry. “Is it you?”

  She just stares at me.

  “Alexandria?”

  Nothing.

  Forc
ing herself not to blink, her eyes fill with tears that never fall as she grinds her teeth and nervously drops the toy.

  Another step closer.

  And then another.

  Standing in front of her, I reach out and lift her chin.

  “We might not be sisters by blood…” I murmur, waiting…praying.

  Nothing.

  A moment passes.

  Another after that.

  She blinks and the tears fall.

  “But we’re sisters of the heart,” she rasps.

  -Forty-four-

  Ally

  Present Day

  A pill, a line of coke or a shiny needle full of heroin—something. I’ll take anything. It’s what I use to escape reality. It’s the poison that makes me forget who I am and reminds me of who I used to be. When you’re kidnapped at fourteen years old and you’ve been sexually abused, sold, and imprisoned by the only man you’ve ever loved, you sometimes need to forget. You need to be reminded of what you had even if you lost it, even if it was only yours for a short time.

  For the first few years I would pray someone would rescue me, that I would reunite with the people I loved and missed. I’d pray they wouldn’t forget me, that they wouldn’t lose hope, and one day they’d find me or I’d find them.

  I begged God for this exact moment.

  And now I wish I hadn’t.

  Now, standing here with Celeste’s arms around me, I don’t want to be Alexandria. I want to forget my past and be Ally.

  I push her off of me and take a step back, instantly seeing the hurt in her eyes. Looking away from her, I stare at the little girl I played with for days, the little girl who looked so much like the baby I would have wanted. A baby I would have wished for if my life wasn’t uprooted by evil. Studying her angelic face now, it becomes clear she doesn’t belong to me. She never could. Rush told me I could keep her. He promised he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her as long I went with him. We were going to be a family.

  Him, me and her.

  Then these animals killed him right in front of me.

  Another dream shattered into a million pieces.

  As if my life wasn’t fucked enough, destiny has brought me back to the life that was robbed from me. I’m now standing in front of the little girl and her mom. Her mom is the girl that I once thought of as my sister.

  Crying, she stares at me like I’m a mirage.

  Like I’m the answer to all her prayers and she’s the answer to mine.

  But that isn’t the case.

  We’re strangers.

  I’m not the girl she remembers. Alexandria doesn’t exist anymore. She’s dead. She died the day a man stepped out of a black van and covered her mouth with his hand, blocking her screams as she was violently snatched from the streets she grew up on and thrown into the burning flames of hell.

  The only person that knows me has his arms wrapped around a beautiful woman. I try not to look; I try not to remember how safe I felt in those arms once. But Stryker is the only familiar thing in this newfound hell, so I do it. I stare at him, wait for him to look back at me and offer me some kind of support. It doesn’t happen and why should it? I’m not like the girl he has now. I’m the girl everyone chews up and spits out. I’m a discarded piece of gum on the bottom of your shoe.

  The forgotten girl.

  Tearing my eyes away from him, I glance around the room at the men who took me and claimed they saved me. The man with the long hair, the one that shot Rush in the back of the head. The other one who ordered him to kill me but then told me I was property of Parrish—whatever that means. He will probably be the new man in my life, the one that throws me down and has his way with me whenever he needs to get off.

  Closing my eyes, I lift my hands to my ears as they begin to speak.

  How did you find Alexandria?

  I hate that name.

  Where’s Cobra?

  Another stranger.

  Should we take her to the hospital?

  No fucking hospitals.

  I open my eyes wide and shake my head forcefully. However, before I can scream no and demand they take me back to the clubhouse, the man who ordered to kill me drops his phone and sends the whole place into an uproar.

  Orders are shouted.

  Celeste screams.

  The baby is taken by the pretty girl Stryker was holding, and I am dragged out the door. I kick and scream but everyone ignores me except for Celeste. Through her own hysterics, she tries to calm me down as we’re thrown into the back of a truck.

  “Jagger’s in trouble,” she cries beside me.

  Jagger.

  My brother.

  My other half.

  I close my eyes as I claw at my skin and picture my brother’s face. Sometimes it’s hard to remember what he looked like, but the one thing that always comes to me is the grin he wore whenever he teased me about my overactive imagination. I also remember him calling me a dreamer, and if I try really hard, I can hear his voice.

  For a moment, I let Alexandria surface and tears prick my eyes as I wonder about my brother and the man he is now. I turn to Celeste and watch as she cries, demanding answers from the two men sitting in the front seat. The reality of what they became hits me and it hits me hard.

  They’re together.

  They fell in love like I always knew they would.

  They have a daughter.

  That little girl is theirs.

  The truck comes to an abrupt stop and everything plays before my eyes as it did in that cabin. The men in front of us jump out of the truck. I watch through the window as all the men that killed Rush and took me race down the pier.

  Celeste gets out of the car and I watch her scream in horror. I’m no stranger to violence and I know the sound of gunfire like I know my drugs. It’s the sound that signals you to duck and hide for cover, yet none of these people are attempting to save themselves.

  They’re charging into the chaos.

  And before I realize it so am I.

  Climbing out of the truck I follow Celeste as she runs toward the sound of the gunfire. I spot the men in leather, hear them shout at one another and struggle to look through the fog at who they’re running toward.

  I hear him but I don’t see him.

  The voice sends chills down my spine and I know without a doubt it’s my brother.

  It’s Jagger.

  “No,” he screams as he spreads his arms wide and drops to his knees.

  Celeste screams too and the man with the long hair orders her to stand back. My chest constricts with pain as tears stream down my cheeks and I watch in terror as he’s shot repeatedly.

  Born to the world as Alexandria Richardson; lost to hell.

  I’ve survived only to bear witness to my brother’s death.

  “Jagger,” I shriek.

  But it’s too late.

  For me.

  And for him.

  BOOM!

  -Forty-five-

  Cobra

  The first time she smiled at me I caught her off guard. She was sitting on my sister’s bed wearing a Punky Brewster t-shirt and drinking a can of Sprite. I was badgering Alexandria about leaving her hair shit in the bathroom sink when I turned and caught her staring at me. I winked at her and she gave me her smile.

  I had no idea at the time that smile would mean so much to me or that I’d chase it for the rest of my life.

  I had no idea it would be one of the last things I saw before I died.

  I didn’t know chasing that smile would give me a daughter.

  A beautiful little girl who I would love more than anything.

  That smile gave me all the good things in my life. It gave me a chance to be someone I never thought I’d be. It allowed me to meet my daughter and give me a glimpse of a new life I’ll never get the chance to live.

  It’s that smile that made life worth living for me.

  That smile that kept me on this earth longer than I anticipated.

  It’s that smile I’ll
miss most.

  Struggling to open my eyes, I hear the voices shout my name as the gunfire dies and the flames crackle behind me. Parts of my body feel as though they’re on fire while other parts feel ice cold. Lifting my hands from my chest, I stare at the blood on my fingers.

  There is no list.

  No name to cross out this time.

  I’ve failed.

  They finally caught me.

  Resigning, I close my eyes and welcome death, knowing it’s an escape—one I don’t deserve.

  In another life, I would have gotten it right. I would have been the man they needed. I would have saved my daughter. In this life, I’m the coward that gives up so he doesn’t have to look the woman he loves in the eyes and tell her he lost their little girl.

  In this life, I leave Celeste one final time.

  “Jagger,” she cries.

  In this life, I’m the selfish bastard that forces his eyes open so he can get one last look at heaven.

  She drops to her knees beside me and sobs over my body, begging me to stay with her, begging me not to leave her again. Like the last time, I give her the only thing I have left. I give her my words and hope they’re enough for her to one day forgive me of my sins.

  “I’m sorry…” I rasp, my throat tight. “I…couldn’t…save—”

  “She’s okay,” she interrupts, leaning down to touch my face. “She’s safe, baby. She’s home. Jack brought her home.”

  Desperation.

  It’s what we feel before we die.

  The words we need to hear in order for us to rest easy.

  I lift my trembling hand to her cheek, watch as my blood smears her creamy skin and memorize her face.

  “Did you hear me? Skylar’s safe, it’s over, Jagger. There’s nothing left to fight except for your life so you can watch her grow up, so you can be there for her and this baby. Please. Please don’t leave me.”

  “Smile,” I plead.

  “Live and I’ll smile every day of my life,” she sobs, wrapping her hand around my wrist.

  I wait for it.

  Plead for it.

  But before she can give it to me I see my sister’s face.

  She’s not the girl I remember but there’s no denying who she is.