Out of the Ashes

by Anne Malcom

  She didn’t answer and he moved his gaze from her body, unable to find the source of the blood. His hand moved to grasp her chin in his fingertips. “Lex, you need to tell me where you’re hurt,” he repeated, trying to sound calm. Problem was he wasn’t calm. His girl was covered in fucking blood. Her expression was etched in horror and her body was shaking in terror.

  “It-it’s not mine,” she stuttered. “It’s Killian’s,” she half sobbed.

  The kid limped through the doorway, holding his shoulder and shrugging off Steg, “Lexie,” he grunted.

  Bull registered the obvious gunshot wound in his shoulder. “What the fuck happened?” he clipped.

  Lexie’s gaze darted between Killian and Bull. “They shot Killian, then they took Mom,” she uttered, a tear rolling down her cheek.

  “Pulled up to Lexie’s, something felt wrong. Couldn’t put my finger on it, but it was off,” Killian explained.

  His face was pale but determined. He had barely let the doc stitch and bandage him up. The only reason he’d stayed still for so long was because Steg had declared that he couldn’t fill them in on what was going on if he died of blood loss. Even that hadn’t swayed him. He finally relented, only with Lexie by his side. She had clung to Bull’s hand as she watched Killian get stitched. Without anesthetic. Kid was tough. Bull didn’t give a fuck. Personally, he would have been happy to get the story as soon as fuckin’ possible, whether or not the kid was bleeding or not.

  His fists clenched on the table as they sat in church listening to what had happened.

  Gwen had turned up minutes ago and was cleaning Lexie up. She had not wanted to leave Bull. Bull wasn’t too hot on having her far from his side but he needed to find Mia. Had to. There was no alternative.

  “That’s when I heard Mia scream,” Killian continued.

  Bull stiffened and Cade’s gaze flickered to him in worry.

  “Didn’t think, knew Lexie was in there, knew you were on a run.” He glanced at Bull. “Got inside, some guy had a gun to Lexie’s head.” Killian’s face turned stormy at the memory. “Didn’t think about that either, charged the fucker. We struggled, gun went off.” He frowned slightly. “Must have got me then, didn’t feel it though. Managed to knock him out, grab Lexie. Some other guy had Mia, top of the stairs. Had a gun too.” A grim, guilt-filled expression cloaked the kid’s face and he met Bull’s eyes. “Mia was yelling at me to take Lexie and run. Fucker was shooting at me, I had to get Lexie outta there,” he explained.

  Bull stared at him for a long moment, thoughts churning in his head. He wanted to be angry with the kid. Be furious for leaving Mia. But he couldn’t. He was a fuckin’ kid. A kid who not only took a bullet for his girl, but more than likely saved her life. For the second time Bull stood, making his way over to Killian. The entire table tensed; all his brothers were expecting him to lose it. Instead he clapped Killian on his good shoulder. To his credit, the kid didn’t even flinch as he approached, but his eyes flickered in surprise at the gesture.

  “Saved my girl,” Bull muttered quietly. “Took a bullet for her,” he continued. He searched his eyes. “Owe you,” he told him.

  Killian met his eyes. “Give my life for her,” he said. “Didn’t do it for you. She’s mine,” he declared.

  Bull didn’t have time to worry about that statement.

  “We need to get my fuckin’ woman back,” he addressed the table calmly. He didn’t think they expected him to be like this. To be locked down. He didn’t have a choice. The monster inside him was pounding at the walls, roaring to get out. Bull knew he couldn’t unleash the fury that simmered barely below the surface. That wouldn’t help Mia. Wouldn’t help Lexie. Boys would have to lock him down like before. He wouldn’t be able to save his woman like that. And he had to save his woman.

  Cade recovered first. “What do we know? Who the fuck has a beef big enough with the Sons to go after an Old Lady?” he asked calmly. “Who’s fucking crazy enough?” he added. His face was blank but he knew his brother was feeling this.

  “Devils?” Lucky suggested, referring to a club who had caused a bit of trouble recently.

  Brock shook his head. “Don’t have the numbers. Shit we got on them, they don’t take a piss without our approval unless they want the mob knowing that they’re ripping them off,” he clipped.

  “Russians?” Ranger suggested, his face grim.

  Steg shook his head. “Got no beef with us.” His face was hard. “Plus, it’s not their style. Don’t kidnap women and children, they murder them,” he said.

  Bull tensed at the thought.

  Wire burst into the room, his eyes darting everywhere. Kid was a new patch. Skinny, with a mop of dark hair and a pale as shit face, he wasn’t someone who screamed biker. He was however, a fuckin’ amazing hacker. Spent half his days inside the dark room where the club housed all their camera feeds and computers. Was a wizard with anything to do with IT. Bull wasn’t sure he even slept, with the amount of caffeinated drinks he sucked down.

  “What we got?” he barked at him.

  “We got a problem,” Wire replied, glancing at Killian.

  Though he was a new patch, he knew the rules. Kid soaked up information like a sponge; club rules weren’t any different. Don’t talk club business with anyone who don’t wear a patch.

  “He’s good,” Cade finally said.

  “Mia and Lexie Spencer don’t exist,” he told the table.

  “What the fuck?” Bull half yelled.

  Killian tensed beside him.

  Wire’s eyes settled on him. “Prior to sixteen years ago, when Mia Spencer began her employment with Steve and Ava Thorndon, there is no record of her anywhere,” he explained, placing some papers on the table. “Like she and Lexie popped out of thin air, didn’t exist before that.”

  Bull clenched his fists.

  “What does that mean?” Cade asked tightly.

  Wire looked at him. “Means Lexie and Mia were running from someone.” He paused. “And whoever it is, they found them.”

  I was in a trunk. Well, I was reasonably sure it was a trunk. It was dark and cramped and I was aware of the fact we were moving, considering the painful jabs I got when my body was thrown from side to side. I was unable to catch myself, as my arms were tied behind my back, which meant my face slammed into hard edges when the car turned. The warm trickle that followed the sharp pain on the latest turn had me sure I had ripped open the skin on my head. My thoughts were groggy. Sid had hit me with the butt of his gun moments after Killian had disappeared with my daughter. I had woken up in the trunk. I felt nauseous and my head throbbed. My arms screamed in protest at the angle they were bound and were raw from me struggling to free myself. None of this mattered. My mind was desperately clinging to the vain hope that Killian had gotten away with Lexie. I remember the gunshot. The sound that chilled my veins. The blood blossoming on Killian’s shoulder. The blood he didn’t seem to notice as he dragged Lexie out of the house. To safety. I prayed to safety. But he had a gunshot wound. I was sure Sid would have other men stationed around. I didn’t see how they could have made it. But I prayed they did. I didn’t care what Sid did to me if Lexie was safe. If Killian got her to Zane, then I’d die happy. Zane would protect her. From this monster. From her father.

  The car stopped suddenly and my face went flying into the back of the trunk once more, pain exploding in my nose. I knew I was bleeding this time. I also knew if Sid was driving, he did this on purpose. He liked to inflict pain. He got off on it. I managed to scoot myself over and tried to press my nose against my shoulder to staunch the bleeding. Light glared into the darkness as the trunk opened.

  “Button, what did you do to yourself?” a concerned voice asked. I blanched at the hands that circled around me, lifting me out of the trunk.

  My eyes squinted at the light and I failed to hide my flinch at the familiar face that was gazing down at me with false concern. He looked to his side.

  “Jones, don’t just stand there you, s
tupid fuck. My wife is bleeding—get her something,” he ordered in a cold tone.

  He started walking. “Put me down,” I half croaked, needing to get his disgusting hands off me.

  Sid ignored me.

  “Put me down now,” I repeated, knowing how stupid it was to order him around, but I was afraid I would vomit if I stayed in his arms much longer.

  Sid’s face flickered in annoyance, but he quickly masked it. “Don’t be silly, Button. You can’t walk, not after your accident. We need to get you to bed,” he told me insanely, as if I had tripped over a shoelace, not been kidnapped and pistol-whipped by him.

  I moved my gaze from his handsome and evil face to inspect where I was. We had moved from a garage into a home. We were walking down a hallway; the artwork on the walls, coupled with the rest of the ostentatious decorating hinted money. No, actually it screamed money. I wouldn’t inspect anything less from Sid. Subtlety and taste were never his strong points.

  “Seems you’ve moved up in the world, Sid. Looks like ruining lives is profitable,” I sneered at him.

  He didn’t look down at me, although his jaw hardened and his grip on me tightened to the point of pain. I didn’t make a sound, and struggled to keep my expression blank. I knew pain and suffering got him off.

  He opened the door to an opulent bedroom, four poster bed and all.

  “This is your room,” he explained, setting me down on the bed. I flinched when his hand came up to brush the hair out of my face. “At least until you recover from your fright today and we get our daughter back. Then you’ll come to my room, of course,” he promised with a flare in his empty eyes that made me want to retch.

  “You’ll never touch her,” I hissed. “I’ll die before it comes to that.”

  Sid’s face was blank. “Don’t be so dramatic, Abby,” he said in a bored tone. The door opened and one of his henchmen came in with a small towel. He handed it to Sid, who held it out to me. I thrust my chin up in defiance.

  “Just take the fucking towel, Abby,” he exploded, his calm demeanor cracking to reveal the monster underneath.

  With a shaking hand I clutched the towel, then pressed it to my nose. It had stopped bleeding, but I did my best to clean myself up.

  Sid straightened. “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He buttoned his suit jacket. “You’ll do well to remember it’s best to listen to me, Abby. I know it was a long time ago, but I’m sure you remember what happens if you don’t.” He gave me a pointed look. “We’ll be talking about the past, more specifically, my daughter, when you’ve had your rest,” he promised, giving me another meaningful look before turning and walking out the door. I heard the click of a lock, sealing me inside my nightmare.

  I immediately jumped up, searching the room for something, anything that would get me out of here. Back to Lexie. Back to Zane. Back to my family. My search was in vain, finding only a walk-in closet and a fancy bathroom. Neither with weapons or exits. But what they did have disturbed me. Clothes. Racks of them, all designer, all beautiful. All in my size. Same with the shoes. The bathroom held all of the toiletries I used, down to the right foundation shade. I shivered. He had been planning this. Not only that, he had been in my house. They only thing that kept me from crawling into a panic ball in the corner of the room was that he didn’t have Lexie. I hoped she had gone to Zane by now, that he would protect her. I knew he would try and find me, that the club would try. But I also knew Sid. He was dangerous before, but now with the money obviously had come more power. I was back in the hell I had escaped from sixteen years ago.

  Sixteen Years Ago

  “You were staring at him,” Sid shot at me with venom in his tone. Venom I didn’t recognize or understand.

  I looked at him from the stove in confusion. “Who?” I asked, keeping an eye on the dinner I was cooking.

  “You know who, don’t play fucking dumb,” Sid answered quietly, glaring at me.

  I swallowed at his tone, at the look on his face. I hadn’t seen it before. He’d always been loving, doting. Since he found out about the baby he had been more so. The way he looked at me on our wedding day had me thinking I was the luckiest girl in the world. It wasn’t like it was much, just a ceremony at town hall with his parents in attendance, but it was all we needed. It had been a month of happiness, of something I thought I’d never get. But things were slowly changing. The more my belly grew the more over the top Sid got. I thought he was just being protective, with him starting a new business, helping his family, trying to be a good husband. But it was more than that. He wouldn’t let me go anywhere unless he approved it. The few friends I had hadn’t heard from me in weeks. The only people I saw were people he deemed it okay to see. Business associates. His family. He told me my place was with them. I didn’t know how a real family worked, so I had guessed this was how all husbands were when their wives were pregnant. He was still young, only eighteen, and he had a lot on his mind. So I didn’t say anything, didn’t argue. I instead treasured the time I had with his mother, who treated me like a daughter. I got ready for our baby’s arrival, painting and decorating the nursery, reading baby books. I was excited for our checkup the next day, where they could tell the sex. Sid wanted a boy, but I secretly wanted a little girl.

  So this anger, this venom, it caught me off guard. “No, honey I don’t,” I told him honestly. I stirred the food, anxious not to burn it. I was a decent cook, but I wasn’t used to having an entire pantry full of food to cook with. It was exciting, but Sid was getting more and more picky about what I cooked. He was particular, wanted me to be the best wife. I didn’t mind. But it just meant I didn’t want to burn this dinner, especially when he was already like this.

  Suddenly, Sid was right in front of me, grabbing my wrist roughly. I dropped the spoon in surprise and cried out from the pain.

  “You know exactly who I’m talking about, you little bitch,” he spat, his eyes turning blank, like there was nothing behind them.

  I struggled not to cry, the pressure on my wrist coupled with the look in his eyes terrifying me. “I promise I don’t,” I cried. “You’re hurting me.”

  Sid yanked me to his chest. “Johnny,” he hissed. “Don’t think I didn’t see you following him with your eyes the whole fuckin’ afternoon.”

  My eyes bulged. “But Johnny’s your brother, I was never even...” my protests were cut short with a backhand to the face. The impact, plus the pain caused me to fall to the floor. I cradled my belly with one hand while pressing my palm against my stinging cheek with the other. I stared at him in horror. I had never known violence before. My parents might have been pieces of shit, but they never hurt me. Not with their fists anyway. Now the boy I loved, thought loved me, was responsible for not only the stinging pain in my cheek, but the small crack in my heart.

  Sid’s face suddenly changed. He gazed down at me in horror, looking at his hand like it didn’t belong to him. He knelt beside me and I flinched. “Button, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. Jesus,” he muttered in despair. “Is the baby okay?” he asked urgently, gently pulling me to my feet, pressing lightly on my belly with both hands.

  And that’s what it was like; he would turn, without warning. Over silly things, sometimes things he imagined, like me laughing at one of his friend’s jokes too hard. Or putting capers in a meal when he hated them. Using the wrong fabric softener. It could be anything. Sometimes it was only words. Yelling, screaming, horrible, vile insults. Other times it was his fists. He was careful to only hit my face, and when he marked it he wouldn’t let me leave the house until the evidence was gone. Slowly, with poisonous words and physical abuse, he battered me into a shell. I had been a vulnerable teenager, desperate for a family, for love. He capitalized on that and turned me into a shell of whatever I had been before. I have no idea how I didn’t lose Lexie; he seemed to avoid hitting my torso, even in his rage. That gave me stupid teenage hope, hope that he still loved me. Might stop hurting me. Or that he’d never hurt our daughter. That was the
only thought I clung to. Leaving was not an option for me. I had nothing. No one. No family, no money and no friends thanks to Sid. So I just had to pray that it was temporary. Had to send all my love to the only thing that got me through that horrible time, the little girl in my belly.

  Then one night, his rage went beyond anything I had ever seen. I can’t even remember what set him off, but his eyes turned black and he came at me. He didn’t stop after one punch, one slap, like normal. There was no desperate pleas for forgiveness or promises. Only more violence. Only more pain. I was terrified not for my life, but for my baby’s. I loved her with all of my heart, all of my soul. She was all I had and I couldn’t lose her. That’s where my desperate thoughts were on, not the pain, then terror that coursed through me as darkness claimed me.

  “Said she fell down the stairs.” A voice penetrated my foggy mind. “She’s almost nine months,” the voice continued in disgust. “How someone could do that to a kid, a pregnant kid no less—” It petered off.

  I quickly opened my eyes. Two people were standing by my bed, glancing at a chart and peering down at me. Everything hurt. I felt like I had been hit by a truck. I struggled to remember what got me here, where I was. My thoughts moved to my belly and fear replaced everything. My belly, the thing that had kept me going for the last four months, the thing I loved more than anything was gone. I was empty. I knew it. Hatred, hotter that I’d ever felt, burned through my veins…hatred for Sid. My eyes opened properly this time and I clutched the hand of a surprised doctor.

  “My baby,” I croaked in despair. “Where is she?”

  The woman’s hand covered mine, her face soft. “Your baby is in the NICU. She needs some special attention, but she’s going to be fine.” She paused. “You just focus on getting yourself better.” Her voice sounded like a dismissal but I wouldn’t let go.