by James, Marie
When I walk into the foyer, the dark house feels empty, isolated, and cold. There’s no longer any love here, nothing that draws me in and urges me to be the daughter my parents expected, not the disappointment I’ve become.
“Of all the people to die, it had to be your mother.”
My father’s words don’t startle me. I knew he had to be around somewhere, and when I look over to the den, he’s exactly where he always is, sitting in his chair with a bottle of liquor on the table beside him and a near-empty glass in his hand.
“But I guess she’s been dead for a while. Her death is on your hands. She was never the same after you killed Seth.” He tilts his glass up, emptying it down his throat, all the while staring across the room at the unlit fireplace. I’m not even worth his attention. My suffering, my loss doesn’t even register with him. I’m not surprised, but I can’t deny that it stings just a bit. Families are supposed to close ranks when tragedy strikes. We’re supposed to hold onto what we have left, not point fingers and issue blame.
I’ve learned the hard way over the years that you can’t reason with madness, so I clamp my mouth closed, biting the inside of my lip until I taste blood on my tongue. My silence and refusal to argue with him doesn’t prevent him from continuing.
“They should’ve killed you.” He scowls down at his empty glass, growing angrier at its lack of liquid relief as if someone else other than himself consumed the alcohol while he wasn’t looking. He speaks again as he reaches for the bottle and refills his tumbler. “I should’ve paid the extra money that man asked for to ensure I’d never have to see your face again.”
My eyes fixate on the man, who by all scientific processes is supposed to love me, if only by default. My head shakes back and forth, rejecting what he’s just said, trying to convince myself I heard him wrong.
“Wh-what?” It’s the only word I can manage past the burn of bile in the back of my throat.
He huffs with indignation before a slow, creepy smile crosses his aged mouth. He doesn’t bother to look at me. His focus stays across the room as he lifts his glass once again to his mouth, drinking down half of the liquor he’s just poured. At the rate he’s been going for the last couple of years, I’m surprised he hasn’t been hospitalized for liver failure.
“My political career soared after Seth was killed,” he says as if he’s talking to himself or recounting his memoirs to no one in particular. “It was the only consolation after losing my son. A part of me died that day with him, only to be replaced with a seething hatred for you.”
Only now does he turn his head to look at me. His eyes sweep from head to toe, a look of disgust marking his once handsome face. His already flushed cheeks darken as his anger grows.
“I figured you’d die after being taken, and I’d never have to see your murderous face again. Imagine my surprise when I got the call that you’d survived and were coming back home? I paid five thousand dollars for those filthy bastards to scoop you up. The man I made arrangements with assured me you’d be hurt, fucked, and used until you didn’t even know your own name. He swore you’d be lucky to last a month.”
Tears burn my eyes at the realization of what he’s saying, but somehow, I manage to keep them from falling. He doesn’t deserve my pain. He’s been the cause of my agony for many years. My self-destruction is due to his hatefulness, but I never imagined he was behind my abduction.
“Did Mom know?” Why this morsel of information is so important to me, I don’t know.
He huffs again before taking another long sip of his whiskey. “Your mother hasn’t known her ass from her elbow for many years.”
“Dad?” He cringes at the word. “Why would you do this to me?”
His glass soars across the room, shattering to pieces inside the stone fireplace. I’d be shocked with the outburst, but they’re commonplace where he’s concerned. I’m more in awe that he has such great aim with so much alcohol coursing through his veins.
“You are the fucking spawn of Satan,” he seethes as his blood-shot eyes find mine in the dim light of the house. “Your mother was nothing but a pregnant whore when I made the mistake of getting drunk enough one night to fuck her.”
My skin is on fire, itching uncontrollably with every word he spits at me.
“She’d already manipulated herself into my damn head by the time I did the math and realized she’d been knocked up a month before I even slipped my dick into her.” Without his glass, he now drinks directly from the bottle before struggling to stand from his chair. “The marriage was a farce from day one, a rush job to wed before she was showing, which would increase the chances of ruining my political career before it could really take off.”
Swallowing does nothing to rid my throat of the lump formed there.
“Before you were even born, you were ruining my fucking life.” His steps seem surer than they should as he closes the distance between us. “Do you know how damaging it is to my image for your coward of a mother to kill herself?”
My spine stiffens as I take him in from head to toe. He’s no longer the man that strikes fear in my heart. He’s a menace, a devious piece of shit who rules by scathing words and self-appointed power. He’s the coward, treating me poorly to account for his own failures in life. He’s a fucking bully for lack of a better word.
“You don’t seem too far behind her,” I spit as he gets in my face as a means of intimidation.
“You little bitch,” he hisses as his hands reach up for my neck.
My eyes widen in shock as his grip increases to the point I can’t get in deep breaths of air. Once again, I’ve underestimated him. He’s never used his hands to wield his power, but it seems he’s not above it today.
My fists pound on his chest, but the alcohol must keep him from feeling it because he doesn’t budge. For one long moment, I let his fingers clench as his empty eyes stare back into mine. There’s nothing in his dark blue glare that resembles a good person. He spoke of me being the spawn of Satan, but I think he’s mistaken me for the man who looks back at him in the mirror every day.
With renewed strength, I shove at him. His hands loosen for a second before tightening again. When I shove at him the second time, I lift my knee and slam him in the crotch.
“I won’t be your victim any longer!” I roar as he flies backward.
Drunk and unable to gain his footing, I watch as he falls. As if in slow motion, his eyes widen and his hands reach for me as if I’d keep him from falling on his ass after what he just did to me. He’s wrong, but so am I. Falling on his ass isn’t what happens, I realize, when he hits the coffee table with a sickening crack.
His eyes remain open as he slumps to the ground and his neck twists in an inhuman angle. Mouth gaping with a silent cry for help, the man who has done nothing but treat me horribly my entire life stares at the ceiling, dead.
Chapter 38
TJ
The ride to Richmond seems to be taking ten times longer than it ever has before. By the time we make a pit stop just outside of Philadelphia halfway into our trip, my back is already hurting, and my fingers itch with emptiness.
Pulling out my phone, I plan to shoot Kaci a super filthy text, priming her for some video chat action I have planned once we get to our hotel for the night.
She must need me as much as I do her because I missed a call from her twenty minutes ago. Instead of the planned text, I opt to call, the promise of her voice too tempting to pass up. The phone rings a dozen times before her voicemail kicks in. I call again and again, but she doesn’t answer. Kaci doesn’t always carry her phone around with her, so I call the next best thing.
“Hey, sugar,” Xena purrs when she answers the phone.
“Can you tell Envy to get her phone?”
“Already missing her?” Xena laughs lightly, but from the sound of it, she’s walking through the clubhouse. “I can keep her warm while you’re gone.”
Her offer makes me frown, but she knows better, so I chuckle. “You keep
your hands off my girl.”
“Afraid I’ll steal her away from you?”
“Fat fucking chance.”
“Hey, gorgeous.” A knock on a door echoes through the phone. “TJ said yo—”
She pauses, and fear skates down my spine.
“What is it?”
“She’s not here.”
“She has to be there. I told her not to fucking leave.”
“Does she always listen—”
I hang up the phone before Xena can even finish, and I’m calling her again. Over and over I call. Frantic and begging for her to pick up.
“What’s wrong?” Sonic asks as he replaces the gas nozzle back on the machine.
I’m about to answer him when another desperate call to Kaci is answered.
“Baby?” I say when I’m met with silence.
“He’s gone,” she whispers so low I can barely hear her.
I break off from Sonic, uncaring that all the guys are gassed up and ready to hit the road again. They can fucking leave without me for all I care. The girl on the phone is the only fucking person that matters to me right now.
“Who’s gone, baby?” I ask as I walk around behind the gas station, hoping it shields me from the noise of the traffic on the New Jersey Turnpike. It helps some, but not a lot. I cup my free hand over my ear to block everything out but her.
“My father had me abducted.” She’s stating a fact as if she has no emotion or is in shock.
“Fuck,” I grunt, hating that she’s discovered this and I’m not there to help her through it.
“My mom killed herself yesterday.”
Once again she delivers the news the same way she would let someone know they have mail on the counter or they missed an unimportant phone call.
Confused, my brows draw in. “And your dad is gone?”
“He said all these things.” Her voice cracks, the first sign of emotion before she continues, “He confessed to having those men take me, to hating me my whole life, to not being my real dad.”
Shit. I didn’t even know that part, but a lifetime of guilt swims in my gut for knowing the things I did know and not discussing those things with her while I had more control of the situation.
“He attacked me. I didn’t mean to kill him, but I couldn’t let him hurt me any longer.”
Unease settles low in my gut, and I walk from behind the gas station and wave down Briar.
“Everything will be okay,” I assure her as I motion for Briar to give me his phone. I type out a message letting him know what is going on, and that he needs to get my brother on the phone immediately.
“I have to call the police.” Her voice is weak and too soft, nothing like the vibrant girl I’ve held in my arms the last couple of days. She’s blossomed since I brought her to the clubhouse, and it kills me to hear the defeat in her voice.
“Baby, are you listening to me?” Silence fills the air again. “Do not call the police. We can take care of this without their help. Envy? Are you listening?”
“You’re too far away,” she finally says. “There’s nothing you can do.”
“Baby, I’m going to send someone to you until I can get there.”
Briar’s phone chimes, and he turns it around so I can read the message from Virus. It explains that he’s traced her phone back to her parents’ house.
“Kaci!” I snap. “Do not call the police. Do you hear me?”
“I’m so glad I met you, TJ.”
Terror fills my bones with the defeat in her voice.
“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” I confess. “I need you to be brave for me.”
My eyes burn with frustration from being so far away as cold fear washes over me with how her voice sounds right now.
“I should’ve let you tell me you loved me last night. It would’ve been nice to hear.”
“I love you,” I scream, but I’m met with three beeps telling me that she has disconnected the call.
With shaking hands, I call her back immediately only to be sent straight to fucking voicemail.
“Lynch,” Briar says and shoves his phone in my face before I can completely freak out.
“Go fucking get her,” I hiss into the phone.
“We’re leaving now,” my brother assures me.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I roar, pacing around in a circle. “She’s in fucking trouble. I think she’s going to hurt herself.”
I have enough wherewithal not to yell that she’s just killed her father since we are standing outside a very busy gas station.
“We’re on our way,” he assures me again.
“You’re an hour and a half away. You may be too late. I’m coming home.”
“You’re going to calm down before you get back on your fucking bike.” I hear an engine crank in the background. “Becoming roadkill isn’t going to help her. I’m sending Ronan to meet the guys and pick up your product for New York.”
“T-take Molly and Zoe with you,” I stammer.
“I’m taking care of things here. I don’t know exactly what I’m walking into over there, and I refuse to put our sister and my girl in any danger. Let the other guys know what’s going on, and I’ll see you back at the clubhouse.”
“I can’t live in a world where she doesn’t exist,” I murmur, my body already going cold with the fear of what she’s capable of when left to her own tortured thoughts.
“No talking like that, brother. Let me handle this.”
The phone goes dead, so I do the only thing I’m capable of, and I call her phone again. As anticipated it goes directly to voicemail, and that increases the terror settling in my stomach.
“I’ve got to head back,” I tell Briar as I hand him back his phone. “Ronan will meet you guys at the hotel and head to New York with Sonic.”
“I think you need to take a minute.”
Somehow the hand on my shoulder is enough to stop me in my tracks before I can sling my leg over my bike.
My eyes find Briar’s, and I’m so fucking grateful that he’s here. He’s like a brother to me, and the only man other than Lynch who can reason with me when I’m spiraling out of control.
“She killed her dad,” I mutter. “She’s going to hurt herself.”
He’s silent for a long moment. He doesn’t tell me everything will be fine. We’ve faced too much shit in our lives to make assurances like that.
“You need to get home safely.” His hand clamps on my shoulder again. “Tell me you’re okay to ride safely.”
I nod, knowing I can get close to halfway home before Lynch even makes it to her parents’ house.
“I’ll be safe.”
“Fly like the wind, brother.” He squeezes my shoulder one more time before releasing me so I can leave.
After three long calming breaths, I swing my leg over my bike and crank it. I don’t look back as I get on the Turnpike and head for home, unsure if I’ll live through the night.
Chapter 39
Kaci
Chills rack my body, but I’ve given up trying to fight the cold. Even the noises coming from downstairs aren’t enough to pull me from the tub. The water went frigid long ago, and yet I remain, chilled to the bone and shivering, unable to move from this spot.
At first, I let my mind imagine that I didn’t shove my father to his death, and any minute now he will storm up the stairs, spit more vitriol my way, and insist I leave his house and never come back. With my mother gone, there’s nothing left for me here. I can’t help but wonder if doing what she did would be best for me.
The noise below me could be the police, uniformed officers or that horrible detective from Andover ready to shackle my hands and feet as he proudly announces that I’ll never see freedom again. Is that the best outcome? I need to pay for my sins, that much is clear. It’s just deciding which steps to take that has me indecisive.
“Envy?”
With swollen eyes, I look up to see TJ’s brother standing in the open doorway of the bathr
oom. Relief washes over his face, but that doesn’t make any sense. He had to have seen what I did downstairs.
For some strange reason, I’m not afraid of him. He’s not even trying to look at my naked flesh, but I still drag my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs.
“TJ said you might need a little help here,” Lynch continues. “Is everything okay?”
My head shakes back and forth before I drop it to my knees in shame. “I killed my father.”
“I know, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. We’re here now.”
“Zoe is lucky to have a man like you.” My head, my thoughts, everything is all over the place, but he doesn’t seem to mind. A small smile is on his lips when I look back up at him.
“And TJ is lucky to have you. How about we get you into some clothes and get you out of here?”
“I’m waiting for the police.”
He stiffens, his lips forming a flat line on his face. “Did you call the police?”
I shake my head. “But they’ll be here eventually.”
A hand clamps on his shoulder, and Lynch shifts to the side as Kai appears.
“I got this,” my new friend tells the MC president without pulling his eyes from mine.
Without another word, Lynch walks away. We listen to his heavy boots as they head back downstairs. Kai moves closer, tentative in his steps as if I’m going to freak out at any moment.
“I couldn’t do it,” I tell him when I follow his eyes to the razor blade on the side of the tub. “If I killed myself, I’d still just be Royce Stewart’s daughter. Even when I was taken, it was more about him and less about me.”
I sigh, hating the bitterness in my voice. I’ve never been one to play the victim, but my world is turned upside down right now.
“Poor Royce. It must be so hard to go on living with the death of his son, and then the abduction of his daughter,” I mimic as if reading from an old newspaper article.
“You’re shivering, babe. Let’s get you out of the tub and into some warm clothes,” Kai urges as he reaches for me.
