“You,” I whispered. “You’re Saint. I know.”
I whirled away when he took another step, confusion clouding my head. My knee caught an end table, and I collided with a wall.
“Hey.” Comedian reached for me. “Hey, take it easy, Celia.”
I jerked back, only to find I’d boxed myself into a corner. “Don’t touch me!”
He moved, faster than I would’ve thought possible, hooking an arm around my waist and drawing me up against his chest. “Ain’t Saint, Celia. Goddammit, don’t fuckin’ fight me.”
A scream wrenched from my throat and I flailed helplessly as his grip tightened. His touch resurrected thoughts of that night. Instead of his hands, I felt Cobra’s digging into my hips. Flashbacks of being crushed beneath the weight of a man’s body stole the breath from my lungs, leaving me gasping for air.
I knew how men like him worked. Beads of sweat ran down my face when I realized there would be no quick death. He was going to finish what three men had started.
“Close your eyes,” Comedian demanded.
I shook my head and jerked my chin up at him in defiance. If he wanted to take my life, he’d have to look me in the eyes while he did it.
“Celia.” He lowered his voice. “Close your eyes, and take a deep breath.”
“No,” I forced out through clenched teeth.
“Just tell me, who’s in charge?” He relaxed his hold enough for me to move.
“What?” I sputtered. “Where did you—”
“Heard Pres say it to you, doll. Said it kept you calm. Ain’t tryin’ to hurt ya, ‘cause I ain’t that motherfucker Saint. I’m gonna let you go now.”
I spun away as his arms came down before doubling over against a wave of nausea. My breaths came in short, panicked bursts, my body convinced it was reliving my nightmare. “Saint Michael,” I whispered. “It’s you.”
The muscles in his body tensed. “You really believe that? You think that I’d side with the same men who killed my son?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did you think that I’d just forget what those cocksuckers did to you? Held you in my arms while you lost a baby, Celia. In what fuckin’ world would I want to hurt you?”
“If it’s not you—oh my god, I got it all wrong. I led everyone here, thinking I knew. We’re going to die.”
He shook his head. “Ain’t anyone dyin’ on my watch. Now, who told you to come here?”
“Jamie. He, uh, he left a voicemail. Said he and Kate were hurt, but that they were going to try to make it here. But they’re not here,” I finished weakly.
We’d walked right into a trap.
I jumped at the sound of footsteps on the porch. Michael pulled his gun free and signaled for me to stay quiet. The heavy tread seemed magnified as if the person wanted us to know they were coming.
He positioned himself between me and the door, willing to risk his life for the woman who’d been stupid enough to enter without a gun.
“Celia!” A voice yelled from just outside the front door. “Found Annie Oakley and her friends hanging out in the woods all alone. Why don’t you let us in?”
Michael raised his gun, but I moved in front of him, shaking my head. Panic left me wanting to claw my throat open, but it wouldn’t change a damn thing about our situation. “They have Lauren.”
We couldn’t run.
Not anymore.
The door fell open, and Lauren was forced down to her knees, the barrel of a gun buried in her red hair. Blood ran from her nose, and she tried focusing on me with the eye that wasn’t rapidly swelling shut before mouthing, “I’m sorry.”
Behind her was the cop who’d been at Dakota’s wedding. The same man who’d later turned up on the hospital’s surveillance tapes.
“Very clever having her hide up there. It wasn’t easy to take her down; I had to put everything into it.” He touched his jaw.
Michael growled, and I knew he would’ve put the cop down were it not for the army of bikers directly behind him.
Dakota was shoved through the door next, seemingly uninjured, and eyes filled with murderous rage. “You chose the wrong side, Doucheface.”
A biker dragged her into the middle of the room, kicking Angel’s body toward the corner before binding Dakota’s wrists behind her back. Her nostrils flared, and tears spilled over onto her cheeks, before she matter-of-factly stated, “You’ll die for that.”
I watched in horror as my friends were led in at gunpoint, the blood turning to ice in my veins. When the cop slammed the door behind Carnage, I looked to Lauren in confusion. Nate and Garrett weren’t with them.
Right now, they were our only hope of making it out of this alive.
One by one, their hands were bound behind their backs before they were forced into a straight line against one of the walls.
This wasn’t a parley.
It was an execution.
“Let them go.” I raised my shaking hands. “I’ll stay to meet with Saint. Just let them go. Please.”
The cop shook his head with a laugh. “I’d be more willing to believe you if your funny guy here wasn’t pointing a gun at me.”
“Michael,” I said softly, placing my hand on his arm. “Please. We have to keep them safe.”
If you must decide between me and the child, do not hesitate: choose the child.
“Son’s don’t negotiate, Celia,” he growled. “They ain’t lettin’ any of us leave.”
“He’s right, I’m afraid.”
I knew that voice.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come. Thought you and your little girl gang would’ve gone south with the men.” She pushed the back door closed and surveyed the small room with a grin.
“Betsy?” Michael asked, lowering his gun. “The fuck?”
“You know…” she tapped a finger against her chin with a vicious smirk. “I could’ve sworn you would’ve killed him by now, Celia. Never mind. I’ll do it myself.”
I watched her hand as she flicked her wrist, not realizing it was a signal until I heard the loud pop. Michael stumbled back, and the cop lowered his gun like a well-trained dog.
Blood began to pump from the wound on his chest, and he swiped his fingers through it before looking up at me in shock. “Celia?”
I stripped off my flannel jacket and dropped to my knees. “It’s okay. You’re going to be alright.” I could feel his pulse through the material. He was losing too much blood.
“Let her take care of you now, Michael. Isn’t this what you always wanted? Grey’s girl, down on her knees in front of you?” Betsy taunted.
“You’re Saint.” It was no longer a question.
“How long did that take you, Celia? You really thought this dumbass was behind it all?” She jerked her thumb to where her husband lay, bleeding out.
Michael reached up and gripped my hand, keeping pressure on the wound. “You?”
“You can’t imagine the kind of planning that went into this, and yet you were so quick to give credit to a man whose concerns revolve around his next high and his next fuck.”
I watched warily as she circled the room, eyeing the people I loved as if they were outfits she was considering trying on.
“You got me here. Let them go. I’m the one you want.”
“I’m the one you want,” she mimicked. “Be honest. You thought Saint was in love with you. Look around you, Celia. This is how much I hate you. I’ve hated you since the day you turned up at a clubhouse you didn’t belong in and just snatched up the Pres as if he were yours for the taking.”
“You were married,” I pushed out.
“Oh, yes. Married to a man who fell all over his dick once you came into the picture. Do you know how many times he slipped and called out your name when he was fucking me?”
“How is that my fault?” I watched the windows by the front door. If I kept her talking, Nate and Garrett could go for help. I just had to keep her talking. Michael grew paler by the second, his skin bathed in sweat.
“Nothi
ng is ever your fault, is it?” Betsy shook her head. “Grey was mine. We had a child together—do you know how many club whores I killed just for looking at him? I gave them the good stuff, and the club turned a blind eye, convinced they’d just OD’ed. Ooh, kinda like your mom, Lauren.”
Lauren mashed her lips together, looking as if she was going to burst through her skin. “Why?” she finally got out. “Because she was onto you?”
Betsy smirked again. “She knew too much.”
“Is that why you sent the Sons after me too? Convinced that she’d told me?” The dried blood on Lauren’s face cracked.
“All I wanted was one man I didn’t have to share with Celia. Was that too much to ask? I thought if I kept Mike around Grey enough, he’d see how good we could be together. Instead, Mike just fell under her spell too. It took years to undo that, and then you…” She pointed at Lauren. “You took him from me, just when we were starting to get close again—”
“You were a shit mother, Betsy,” I snapped, hoping to draw her anger away from the others. “You and I both know it. We tried to help Mikey for years, but you kept dragging him back—”
“To keep you away from Grey!” she screamed as if it was the most logical explanation in the world. The bikers seemed unaffected by her outburst.
Dakota’s shoulder dropped at the same time Carnage leaned into her. To a casual observer, it looked as if they were just holding each other up, but from my crouched position near Michael, I realized they were working to free themselves.
There were four Sons and the cop.
Not the best odds, but not impossible.
As if sensing my thoughts, Betsy looked toward the front door. “My men have the cabin surrounded, Celia—”
“See, what I can’t figure out is how you got a biker club to back you.”
“No?” She pursed her lips. “You wouldn’t, would you? I didn’t build this overnight. You see, when Mike killed that kid on the beach, Grey revealed that he was alive. I realized I’d been grieving a man that abandoned his own son… and me.
“Once I got over my initial anger, it gave me an idea. If he could fake his own death, then why couldn’t I create someone more powerful to show him that we were meant to be together?”
“But how?” I pushed, watching as Dakota’s first hand was freed. She discreetly shifted closer to Carnage and began working on his bindings.
“Easy. I tracked down the men who raped you.” Her lip twitched in amusement at my gasp. “Told them I worked for a powerful man who wanted to take down Grey’s organization from the inside out. They had the cash they took from you, but had already blown through most of it. I simply gave them more. Grey always told me I thought with my cunt, but look where it got me.”
Carnage cracked his neck before letting the back of his head rest against the wall as if he was tired.
Two down.
Four to go.
“Money,” I stated as though I was bored. “Seems if it were that easy, then there’d be a woman running every club.”
Betsy jerked her head from side to side. “Nobody could pull off what I have. Do you know how I came up with the name Saint? Fucking Michael lived for months on how he saved you and the things he said when you went into shock. I heard so much about St. Michael that I was ready to hang myself until I realized I could just as easily slip his head through the noose. The only people who know the real Saint are in this room. The rest of the world will see exactly what I wanted them to. For once, Michael will take the fall for my crimes, and I’ll move on somewhere else, finally free of him.”
“You’ve yet to answer my question, Betsy. How did a woman who dropped out of high school end up running the Sons.”
She bristled at the school comment, but quickly let it go in favor of talking about herself some more. “In the beginning, I was Saint’s messenger, delivering money and plans. Never underestimate the power of a woman to lead a man around by his own dick. Can you imagine what Silent Phoenix could’ve been had Grey chosen me?”
“So, you worked in the shadows for years…”
“Until Saint was something like a god. The mice won’t play when they don’t know what the cat looks like or where she might be lurking. I sat back in the clubhouse and listened as Bear got shit-faced and spilled club business to anyone within earshot. Knowing how Grey liked to torture people came in really handy—”
“Fuck you, Betsy,” Molly snapped. “You fucking bitch.”
“Jesus Christ.” Betsy spun on her heel with a roll of her eyes. “You talk a lot of shit for a woman who’s tied up. One more word out of you and I’ll have Kyle give you the same treatment that the old ball and chain got. You know how easy it was to leave Grey’s kutte in your house? I really expected you to take the bait and start second-guessing your old man, but you disappointed me, Molly.”
“You put the flowers in Grey’s casket and left behind Comedian’s card, didn’t you? You set him up to take the fall for not only Grey’s death, but my mother’s as well,” Lauren snarled.
“I did,” Betsy replied. “Nobody gave a fuck about me, but I knew everything there was to know about them. I used that to my advantage to take down the woman who stole my throne.”
“What throne?” I asked, knowing full well she’d never been equipped to handle the problems that came with the crown.
Her eyes seemed wistful. “If you hadn’t fucked it all up, my family would be together. My son would still be alive! You took everything from me, so I simply returned the favor. Tit for tat, Celia. Grey… your parents… Angel… Kate. How does it feel, knowing you’ve lost it all?”
I risked another glance toward the wall.
Five down.
One to go.
“Where is my family, Betsy? Where are Jamie and Kate?”
She pushed her lips out into a fake pout. “I sold Kate to the highest bidder. Apparently, he got a taste and wanted more.”
Jeremy.
“Who’s to say what he’s going to do with her… see that’s the difference between me and these other guys. I reward my men. Maybe if Grey had done the same, you never would’ve been raped. Now, I can’t say the same for Kate.” Her cheeks flushed with excitement.
“And where is Jamie?” I fought to keep my voice steady, balling my free hand into a fist.
“Right here.” She gestured to one of the men, and he disappeared into a bedroom, only to reappear moments later, dragging something behind him.
“Not sure you’re going to want him, though. Even broken, he still refused to turn on anyone within his own club. I led him right to the water’s edge, but couldn’t make him drink. So now, I’ll watch him drown.”
The man bound before me was unrecognizable as the man who’d left me on a dance floor just four months ago. Old and new bruises covered almost every part of his emaciated body and even tied up, his right arm hung at an awkward angle as if it had been broken.
Jamie blinked up at Betsy before weakly turning his head toward me.
For so long, the events from the night I was attacked had held me in their grip. But as I faced another monster, I realized that my weakness had never been the men who’d used their bodies to wound me; it was the broken man lying near my feet.
A man who was still wearing a wedding band on his left ring finger. The man I’d vowed to love until I took my last breath.
The day I take it off is the day you’ll know I’ve given up on us.
I touched the diamond on my own hand and met his gaze, watching as the first signs of hope ignited in his blue eyes before tilting my face up to Betsy’s.
“Your plan would’ve been perfect were it not for one little thing,” I said as Molly worked to free Lauren’s hands.
“And what’s that?” Betsy sneered. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like I’m winning.”
“Mikey.” The color drained from her face. “You got distracted from taking me down because you were looking for his killer—”
“And once I kil
l you, I’ll keep looking.”
I shook my head, my mouth lifting into a half-smile. “That’ll pose a problem because I’m the only one who can tell you who killed him.”
Six down.
Zero to go.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kate
The nightmare began the same way it always did, with his hands roaming freely over a body that didn’t belong to him. No matter how much I fought back, I couldn’t free myself from his grasp.
The throbbing pain behind my eyes intensified, bringing with it an awareness that forced me back to consciousness. Instead of seeing the ceiling fan that hung over mine and Nate’s bed, I found that my nightmare had become a reality once again.
Jeremy’s face hovered inches above mine, his grin widening when he realized I was awake. The fingers that had been digging into the flesh of my breasts moved up to stroke my cheek. “Hey, there she is.”
Panic clogged my throat when I realized that my hands were bound behind my back with rope, the fibers chafing the skin around my wrists the more I struggled.
I opened my mouth to scream only to begin choking on the thick material pressed against my tongue. I’d been gagged. My breaths turned shallow, the air wheezing loudly through my nostrils as I took stock of my situation.
My clothes were gone, my ass resting on the dirt floor of what appeared to be a small shed. Shafts of moonlight broke through the wooden slats, but not enough for me to gauge where I was.
How had I ended up here?
The day’s events replayed at high speed in my head.
Daddy.
Angel.
I inhaled again, fighting against tears to get my body the oxygen it craved. If I started crying, I’d suffocate.
Think, Kate.
“Deep breaths,” Jeremy encouraged, letting his hands move back to cover my breasts. “You’re safe now. I convinced Saint to let you go. We can go anywhere we want now.”
I shook my head from side to side, squirming to get away from his touch.
“No?” He rocked back onto his heels. My heart sped up at the fury reflected in his eyes. “I saved your life, Kate.”
Savior: Silent Phoenix MC Series: Book Five Page 32
