My thoughts are interrupted as a loud crash sounds from beyond the door.
Ally screams.
Glass shatters.
Skylar cries.
Another crash.
I can hear shouting and the familiar voices of my brothers. For a moment, I wonder if God truly exists and why he took pity on me and answered my prayer. Then I forget about the almighty Father as I hear Jack threaten to blow off Ally’s head.
In a single moment, the wind doesn’t just change, the whole fucking world turns on its axis.
“Where’s the baby?” Jack shouts. “Tell me where the baby is or I’ll splatter your fucking brains across these walls.”
“Let her go, or the baby dies!” Rush hollers back.
Fuck.
To Jack Parrish and his men, Ally is nothing but a whore.
She’s nothing but a menace in the game of mayhem.
She’s not the lost girl.
She’s not the sister Cobra’s been searching twelve years for.
She’s nothing.
To Parrish, Ally is better off dead.
“It’s over Rush. Put the fucking gun down before I blow your whore’s head off her body,” Jack barks.
“Let her go, Parrish, or I’ll fucking kill you and the kid.”
I gotta get out of here.
I gotta tell him who she is.
“Don’t cry, baby,” Ally soothes. “We’re just playing a game.”
Jesus, fuck. She doesn’t even realize that kid she’s playing house with is her fucking niece.
“Game’s over, bitch,” Jack growls.
I scream but my voice is muted against the gunshots blaring outside the door.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Chaos.
Ally screams again.
Mayhem.
Skylar cries louder.
Hell.
The door flies off the hinges and Bas’ large frame fills the doorway.
“I got him,” he calls over his shoulder.
“Is she okay?”
“The kid’s fine,” he assures me as he lowers his gun and unwinds the chains wrapped around my ankles.
“What about Ally?”
“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” he asks, quirking a brow as he lifts his gaze to me. “You realize she’s the bitch that got your ass tied to this fucking chair.”
Ignoring him, I kick the chains away from me as he moves to free my hands.
“Did you know who she was all this time?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he asks, freeing my right hand. “Did Rush shoot you up too?”
“Look around the room,” I grind out.
I watch as his eyes sweep the room. Judging by the dumb fucked expression on his face, it’s clear he has no fucking clue Ally was kidnapped or that she’s Cobra’s sister.
“Put this whore out of her misery,” Jack orders.
Following the sounds of Ally’s cries, I force my numb legs to move and charge out of the room. I don’t stop until I see her. Hunched over Rush’s dead body, she stares up at the barrel of Blackie’s gun and waits for him to pull the trigger. Done with the torment, wanting out of this life, she begs for it.
She craves death like she craves poison.
“Don’t shoot her,” I shout.
I feel their eyes burn into me as mine land on Ally.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Riggs asks.
“Why the fuck shouldn’t I?” Blackie growls.
Lifting her head, her blue eyes lock with mine and it’s in that moment I know beyond a shadow of doubt, with every fiber of my being, I am fucked because those fucking eyes are my undoing.
Hooked on a sea of blue, drowning in her unshed tears, I say the words that free her from the nightmare she’s been living.
“Because you’d be killing Cobra’s sister,” I rasp.
Alexandria Richardson, the girl who was once lost is now found.
Tearing my eyes away from hers, I glance around at my brothers as they all fire questions at me, but before I can explain Bas shoves the articles into their hands and displays the proof. Shock and confusion register on each of their faces, but it’s Ally’s expression that strikes a chord with me.
I don’t know if she is incoherent or simply ignoring the revelation, but it’s almost as if she doesn’t want to be found. While none of us may know the details of what happened to her, we know the man she’s crying over, the man she’s distraught over, is the man who has kept her from her life for all these years.
I’m not the only one who recognizes the pain in her eyes.
Jack does too, and he hands Skylar to Bas before he kneels next to Ally. A minute ago he was going to decorate the walls with her brains, now he tries to comfort her, assuring her she’s okay.
And she will be fine because now she’s property of Parrish.
Ain’t that some shit.
Taking her into his arms, he tears Ally off Rush’s dead body and orders us to move, reiterating time isn’t on our side—it never is.
We make our way out of the cabin and I spot the bodies lying in the grass. My ribs ache making it hard to walk, but Riggs throws his arm over my shoulder and ushers me toward the Suburban. To my left, Blackie carries a sleeping Skylar, stepping over one of the bodies. I move closer and pause, recognizing the motherfucker as one of the men who grabbed Skylar from me. Ignoring my bruised ribs, I straighten my shoulders and grimace before I spit in his face.
Fuck you.
“Let’s go,” Riggs grunts, pulling me away. Wolf takes Skylar from Blackie and secures her into a car seat as Ally fights with Jack, begging him not to take her. It dawns on me then that Cobra isn’t here which is probably a blessing in disguise. He gave up half his life avenging her disappearance, and in the beginning, he hoped he’d find her and bring her home. I’m sure somewhere in his mind he has dreamt of a perfect reunion, not one where his sister screams and cries for death. In his absence, he gets to hold onto the dream and is spared anymore heartache.
Keeping my eyes pinned to the dark night, I struggle not to glance behind me and watch as Jack struggles to get her in the truck. Part of me wonders if she put up this much of a fight when she was first kidnapped, but I keep that to myself as she finally gives up and Jack slams the door. Instantly, Wolf slams his finger down on the side of the door, securing the locks so she can’t escape and shifts the truck into drive. My eyes shift to the side-view mirror, spotting the cabin I watch it slowly fade from my view as he drives.
We ride silently for over an hour until Ally’s cries subside and she falls asleep. I glance over my shoulder at Skylar and Ally, logging the irony of everything.
“You okay, boy?” Wolf asks. “Looks like those bastards did quite the number on you.”
Twisting around, I suck in a breath and run my hand over my ribs.
“Nothing I won’t survive,” I grunt.
“Your face is fucked.”
“Thanks,” I sneer, shaking my head as his lips quirk slightly. Leave it to the crazy bastard to find humor in all of this.
A moment passes between us and I watch as he draws his lips into a straight line and shakes his head slightly. I know the look, seen it a bunch of times over the last few months. It’s the look he gets when he’s desperate to fix shit, when the weight of the club’s problems weighs too heavily on his shoulders. Wolf might not be the leader of this pack but he’s just as invested as Jack.
Just a few weeks ago, the man nearly lost his shit when the doctors tried to discharge Linc, claiming there was nothing more they could do for him. They didn’t care the man had survived an explosion and was left temporarily paralyzed, all they cared about was a paycheck—one that wouldn’t hit their bank accounts since Linc didn’t have insurance. Wolf didn’t take the news too well and raised hell, demanding they continue to treat him. The loyal bastard mortgaged his house, and right before I left for Albany we got word Linc’s last surgery was scheduled.
The point I’m trying t
o make is Wolf’s wheels are turning again, and he’s fixing for a way out of this mess, one that keeps all the people in his circle breathing. The thing is; we keep adding lives to our circle, we keep on tacking responsibilities to our shoulders. The club has too many balls floating in the air and Wolf is struggling to keep them all from dropping.
He lifts his right hand from the steering wheel and silently makes the sign of the cross before reaching for the cross tucked beneath his shirt. Bringing the gold crucifix to his lips, he kisses Jesus and sends up a prayer.
“Shit,” I hiss.
“What?”
“It’s gotta be bad when the Satan’s Knights are calling on God to save them,” I comment, turning my attention to the road ahead, realizing hours ago I was doing the same—minus the cross kissing and all that.
“I’m worried about Cobra,” he admits. “Our brother is at the end of his rope.”
“Can you blame him? His daughter was kidnapped, that’s enough to send anyone over the edge. Add a missing sister, two dead parents and a fucking gangster we know jack shit about and you’d be just as fucked.”
“None of it makes sense,” he whispers, glancing into the rearview mirror. “How the fuck is this even possible?”
“I don’t know,” I admit honestly. “Maybe the bounty hunter is wrong, maybe Vlad has nothing to do with this at all. Rush had a shrine to Cobra’s sister in that cabin. I’m talking newspaper articles that dated back to her disappearance. What if he took her?”
“Then where does that leave the connection between him and Vlad? You saw it yourself on those contracts you stole.”
I don’t answer him because he’s right, we’re missing something, a big chunk of the puzzle.
“How did you know where we were?” I ask after a moment.
“Rush’s old lady gave Bas and Needles the location of the cabin. It’s safe to say she won’t be fucking crying over his death.”
“Think she can answer any questions?”
“Nah, I think she sees that girl back there as a side piece who stole her old man’s heart. If she knew Rush had any involvement in her disappearance, she would’ve given Rush up a long time ago.”
My gaze gravitates back to Ally.
“What are we going to do with her?”
“Fuck if I know,” Wolf sighs. “One day at a time, brother. First, we get that little girl back in her mama’s arms before the sun comes up, then we find her fucking father and after the dust settles, we’ll figure out what we do with her.”
“Ally.”
“What?”
“Her name is Ally,” I say, tearing my eyes away from her. “Actually, it’s Alexandria.”
Eying me from the corner of his eye, Wolf raises a brow.
“Thanks for clarifying. You going to supply her blood type too?”
I’d roll my eyes if they weren’t swollen as fuck, but the truth is I have no idea why I felt it necessary for Wolf to refer to Ally by her name.
Maybe it’s because I saw those articles.
Maybe it’s because she didn’t ask for any of this.
Maybe it’s because she’s been no one for the last twelve years.
Maybe it’s because the world forgot Alexandria Richardson.
Maybe it’s because she’s Cobra’s sister.
Or maybe I have a brain bleed.
At least then I’d have an excuse as to why I give a fuck.
-Ten-
ALLY
Every thought, move, breath and miserable memory are controlled by the organ inside our skull. They say our hearts are traitors, and that might be the case for some people, but for me, my body is a prisoner to my mind, not my heart. It’s the cruel bitch inside my head that allows me to remember certain things, tragic things that have been branded to me. Things I’ll never escape. Memories that invade my head and make me wish for death.
I want to be normal.
I want to be the girl who follows her gut and listens to her heart when it whispers to her she’s safe now. I want to believe the men who killed Rush and spared me had purity in their hearts and conviction in their souls.
I want to believe there is more than ugly in this world.
I want to believe not every man who smells like motor oil and dresses in leather is a monster. I want to believe that the man who is taking the little girl out of the car beside me isn’t going to do awful things to her—the things I’ve lived. The things I’ll never forget.
I really want to believe the man with the dark eyes who carefully holds Skylar as he stares at me isn’t going to be my new captor. I want to believe this stranger has saved me.
But my mind won’t let me.
“Come on, let’s end this nightmare,” the man holding Skylar says. I watch as he glances over to the driver and orders him to keep an eye on me until it’s time.
Time for what?
Before I can ask, cry or even scream, my dark-eyed mythical hero slams the door. I watch as the men dressed in all black with the Satan’s Knights patch branded to their backs climb the stoop with Skylar tucked protectively amongst them.
That wasn’t what it was like when I was taken.
Nobody held me like I was a fine piece of crystal. I was dragged from the van to a shipping container. My clothes were stripped from my body and I was chained to three other girls. The four of us stood naked in front of men we didn’t know and listened as they spoke with a foreign tongue.
Nobody cared.
“I’m stepping out to have a smoke,” the driver says.
Lifting my gaze to the rearview mirror, I stare at the man with faint lines around his eyes.
“Ain’t nothing to worry about,” he says, reaching for his cigarettes. “You’re safe now.”
Bruised, battered and withdrawing I couldn’t process his words. All I heard were the words my abductor whispered in my ear when I was fourteen.
It’s all right, there isn’t anything to fear.
The door shuts behind him; dragging me away from the voice inside my head and the memories my treacherous mind tries to feed me.
Help me.
Save me.
Kill me.
Kicking and clawing at the seat in front of me a scream wretches from my throat.
“Jesus, Ally, calm the fuck down.”
The scream dies on my tongue as I freeze. The sound of his voice washes over me and I lift my head to meet his gaze.
“You’re going to wake the dead with all that yelling,” Deuce says from the passenger seat, wincing as he turns his head and his swollen eyes stare into mine. I battle with my mind to remember what he looked like when I first saw him in Rush’s office, but the only memory that plays is him giving me a hit.
I want to beg him for more, just a little taste, enough to dull the throbbing pain throughout my body, but I’m too afraid he’ll give in. Too afraid I’ll close my eyes and submit to the drugs only to wake in a different hell.
“What are you going to do to me?”
“What?”
“Are you going to kill me? What are you waiting for? Don’t be a pussy, pull the trigger and do it already.”
“Fuck,” he hisses, shaking his head. “No one’s looking to kill you, Ally.”
“I knew it,” I cry, running my nails down my arms. “So, who do I belong to now, huh? Whose dick am I going to suck first?” I ask, pushing my hair away from my face. “The guy who took the baby? The guy outside smoking the cigarette? Or yours? Are you going to rape me or watch as the rest of them do?”
I ignore the tears streaming down my face and bite the inside of my cheek as he stares at me silently. It is then, in that very moment when my mind plays another trick on me and allows me to remember him as I did in Rush’s office. His eyes aren’t open as wide as they were then, but he’s just as dangerous as I thought he was that night. Like that first night, something changes and all I see is pity in his brown eyes.
“Make it go away,” I beg.
“I wish I could,” he whispers.
A sob escapes my throat as I pull my legs to my chest and rock against the seat. The door is pulled open and the older man who was driving looms over me.
“Let’s go, darlin’,” he says.
I stare at his outstretched hand and inch further away.
Why isn’t he grabbing me? Why isn’t he pulling me out of the car?
Patiently, he continues to hold out his hand.
“I won’t hurt you,” he promises. “Look, darlin’, I know you’ve been through a lot and we’re a bunch of new faces to you, but we’re not the bad guys,” he soothes, pointing to the patch on his chest. “The name is Wolf. My brothers gave me that name because like a Wolf, I hunt. I’m going to hunt down whoever the fuck is responsible for the fear in your eyes. And darlin’, I’m going to smile when I kill them. But before I can do that, before any of us can get you on the mend you need to come with me.”
I want to believe him.
I want my mind to remember those words. I want them to replace the words that haunt me every day of my life.
“Come now,” he urges. “Cobra needs to see your face.”
Wiping my cheeks with the backs of my hands, I inch closer to Wolf and hesitantly drop my hand into his.
“Who is Cobra?”
He doesn’t answer me.
Noticing my question causes his eyes to water, I wonder why and who this Cobra is that everyone seems to speak of. I continue to stare into Wolf’s eyes, searching for the answers, and for the first time in twelve years, I tell my mind to fuck off and follow the whisper of my heart. Wolf leads me around the back of the car toward the same stoop I watched them take Skylar. Climbing the stairs, I glance over my shoulder as Deuce rolls down the window and meets my gaze. He doesn’t say a word, he just stares at me. I turn back to Wolf and let him lead me up the stairs and inside the house. We follow the sounds of the men talking until we are at the top floor. The man with the shoulder length hair, who shot Rush and pointed his gun at me, greets us. He holds a hand up to stop us from entering the apartment he’s guarding.
“Not yet,” he mutters.
A woman’s voice cries from beyond the door and confusion ripples through me. At first, I tell myself it’s because I wasn’t expecting a woman. Then I realize the sound is familiar, it sounds like the whisper of my heart. I don’t have a chance to process it because another woman speaks and her question is quickly answered by a male voice I know too well, a voice I can place.
The Nomad Series-Collectors Edition Page 71
