The baby.
“No,” Autumn said quietly. “My stomach growled.”
She didn’t miss when Stella’s eyes slid to Sig’s and they gave each other a look.
She didn’t like that look.
“Take your time eating. While you do that, I’ll clean up the bathroom.”
Stella disappeared and then it was just Autumn and Sig.
In that little kitchenette.
“Eat,” he said. His voice was low and deep.
She stared at the plate again, then picked up the fork, stabbing at the chunks of eggs. She lifted it to her lips and stuck out her tongue to taste them.
The familiarity flooded her senses. She shoved the eggs into her mouth, swallowing them down before she even chewed them. Then she began to shovel the small yellow mountain into her mouth to fill her belly. When she was done with that, she began to take large bites of her toast, eating it quickly, chasing every mouthful with a gulp of OJ.
Filling that hollow.
Settling the movement of that seed.
When she was done, she sipped at the remaining sweet, but tangy OJ and noticed Sig hadn’t moved an inch since before she began.
“You ate all that in like a couple minutes, Red. You want more?” He wasn’t joking, his expression was serious, his eyes troubled as his gaze lifted from her empty plate to her face.
She nodded.
His nostrils flared and he nodded in return, giving her his back at the stove as he began to prepare her more eggs.
She studied that back. It was broad and covered in a leather vest. The same one he wore when on his motorcycle. It had various patches on it. The one on the top read, “Blood Fury,” the bottom one said, “Pennsylvania,” and a large center patch consisted of a bloody skull and crossbones. She remembered the three rectangular ones on the front. Sig. Vice President. Manning Grove.
Is that where they were? In Manning Grove? The only thing she knew after being blindfolded and tied up was she had been taken to Pennsylvania. And that was a big state.
When she left, she needed to go as far away from Ohio or Pennsylvania that she could.
Mexico. Canada. Or even Australia. She could get lost there.
Stella said Sig was a biker, so all of the tattoos and the vest made sense. He also said he was an ex-con. She wondered if he was a violent one. Bikers probably liked to get rowdy and into fights, which was most likely why he had a massive black eye.
“What happened to your face?”
“A mistake,” was all he said.
“One you’ll learn from?” She didn’t know why she asked that.
He spun around, a scowl on his face and the spatula in his hand. “How’d you get up that fuckin’ mountain?”
Autumn jumped and her heart stopped as the door crashed open behind her.
They found her.
Chapter Five
Autumn fell from the stool and curled up in a tight ball behind it, squeezing her eyes shut.
They found her.
They were there to take her back.
“What the fuck!” Sig bellowed, making her wince.
“What the fuck is right!” bellowed back another male voice, just as loud.
Heavy boots came at her from both directions. Sig from around the counter and the intruder from the front.
“What the hell, Sig!” the new voice yelled.
He was a Shirley, she knew it! It had been all a trap, like she suspected.
Just to capture her and hand her back over.
Stella’s voice came from the side. “What the hell, Trip? Calm down.”
“Why’s there a fuckin’ woman hidin’ behind the stool? What did you fuckin’ do, Sig?”
“Didn’t fuckin’ do anything, brother.”
A big hand clasped her forearm, hauling her to her feet. She was going to be dragged out of there in a second. Her hair fell around her face becoming a curtain she could hide behind.
“Trip! Let her go!”
“Why the fuck you in here, Stel? Who the fuck is this?” The hand shook her.
“Let her go and we’ll explain,” Stella tried to reason with whoever it was.
An arm slipped around her shoulders and she was pulled from the hand that held her hostage.
“Why... She’s... You got some teenager knocked up?”
No. No. This man had it all wrong. But Autumn couldn’t catch her breath to explain.
She opened her eyes and lifted her face so she could see him. The man who was angry. The man who wanted answers. He wore the same kind of black leather vest as Sig and had almost just as many tattoos. And the two men looked slightly similar.
But then so did all the Shirleys.
“Is... this...”
Stella’s arm tightened around her shoulders. “Yeah, this is my ol’ man.” Her lips were pressed into an angry slash and her blue eyes were on fire. “Trip, it isn’t Sig’s baby. And you need to calm the hell down. This isn’t helping anything or anyone.”
“How the fuck can I calm down when I just got news about why his ass got handed to him?” The man, this Trip... his eyes were also on fire.
No one said a word. Not Stella. Not Sig. Not one of them looked happy, either. Far from it.
The heavy tension in the room was making Autumn’s chest tight and her heart was trying to beat right out of it.
A twinge in her stomach made her wince again. The seed wasn’t happy, either.
“Who the hell is that?” this Trip asked again.
“Don’t let him take me back,” Autumn finally managed in a whisper, fisting Stella’s shirt. “Please.”
“He’s not taking you anywhere,” Stella returned softly, squeezing Autumn’s fist. “I’m taking you back to the bedroom to lie down. That’s it. That’s as far as you’re going. You need some rest and that’s what you’re going to get while we deal with this.”
“I don’t want to go back.”
“I promise. You are never going back.”
Stella said they were bikers. Both of them. Brothers, too.
Not Shirleys.
That’s what she said. Autumn hoped the woman wasn’t lying.
She couldn’t take any more lies.
Stella snagged another bottle of Powerade off the end of the counter and with one arm still around Autumn, guided her down the hallway to a partially open door at the end.
She kept her voice low when she asked, “Why are they fighting? Is that who beat Sig up?”
“No. It wasn’t him. They just...” Stella inhaled a loud breath, closing the door behind them. “They need to work a few things out, that’s all.”
“About me.”
“No, Red. About a lot of things.”
Red.
“My name isn’t Red.” Autumn stared at the big bed. It was messy, a thin quilt in a pile on the floor, the sheets tangled. The pillows not lined up neatly.
But it was a bed.
A bed.
And it looked as good as that plate of food, if not better.
She felt her eyes begin to burn.
Again.
“I know. Are you going to tell me what it is?”
That got Autumn’s attention back on the woman, who had been nothing but kind and helpful to her.
“Do you want me to change the sheets? I don’t know if he has another set. But he can be a pig.”
“No... It’s fine... I...” It was a million times better than where she’d been sleeping for the last year. She sat on the edge and ran her hand over the cool sheets. The mattress was so soft.
Her eyes got heavy and the thought of getting some sleep actually made her yawn.
“Get in. Do you want to wear your leggings? They don’t look very comfortable since they don’t fit over your... stomach. Maybe sleep in just the T-shirt.” Stella lifted a finger. “Hang on... Let’s see if Sig has any clean boxers.” Stella went over to the dresser and began to pull open drawers. “Jesus. This man needs a keeper.” She held up a pair of boxer briefs. “I don
’t think these will fit much better. I can grab you panties at Walmart later today. I didn’t think you’d want to wear any of mine.”
“I don’t have any money.”
“Yeah, you said that, Red. We can pay for a few essentials. Until we figure out... Until things get settled.”
Autumn worried about telling Stella her real name, so she didn’t know why she did it. Maybe because she really needed to trust someone. Anyone at this point. And the woman, a complete stranger, was being kinder than she needed to be. “Autumn. My name. I’m not a teenager like your ol’ man said.”
“Autumn,” Stella repeated, gripping the underwear in her fist, then moving to the bed and putting them on the nightstand. “Just in case you want to try to wear them. Autumn,” she repeated. “I like that. And I didn’t think you were a teenager. But right now, you’re so thin... You look really young.”
Autumn had no idea what she looked like. She hadn’t looked into a mirror in a long time. And while in the bathroom, she’d avoided it. But she wouldn’t be able to avoid it forever. Especially since the seed had made her use the bucket in the corner a lot in the last few weeks.
“And Sig tends to like...” Stella didn’t finish that sentence. “Doesn’t matter. That’s Sig’s issue, not yours. Right now you just need to get some rest. I’m going to do my best to get one of my doctors over here to take a look at you. Just to make sure you and your... you are all right.”
“I can’t pay for a doctor, either.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just rest for now. We can worry about that later.”
Sig planted his boots wide apart, and faced off with his brother. “You scared the fuck outta her.”
“I don’t even know who the fuck she is. And what’d I say about keepin’ women here in the bunkhouse?”
“First of all, this ain’t the bunkhouse, it’s my goddamn apartment—”
“Above the bunkhouse, which means part of the fuckin’ bunkhouse, Sig.”
Sig kept talking over his brother, “And I only found her this mornin’, brother.”
Trip’s brown eyes went wide. “You found her? What d’you mean you fuckin’ found her?”
Sig opened his mouth, but snapped it shut when Stella came rushing out to where they were standing. Trip’s ol’ lady was not wearing a happy face. Not at fucking all. None of them were. “Get outside, now. Autumn needs rest. You two go do what you need to do, but not in here.”
“Autumn?” Trip spun back to Sig, his jaw tight. “She one of those fuckin’ Amish girls?”
“Her name is Autumn?” Sig asked Stella.
“You didn’t know her goddamn name and you’re fuckin’ her?” Trip’s brows dropped low. “Also, still waitin’ on a good answer why you’re in Sig’s apartment, Stel.”
Stella rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Because she needed help.”
“From what? Escapin’ Sig? ‘Cause it’s certainly too late for her to get rid of that kid.”
A muscle ticked in Sig’s jaw.
“No...” Stella shook her head, getting just as pissed as Trip, and jerked her eyebrows up at Sig. Her temper was about to blow. “You take it from here, Sig. Just somewhere else. Not right outside, either. She needs sleep. Go downstairs into The Barn and do what you need to do, but get it done,” she hissed. “And then leave it there. Don’t you fucking dare bring that shit back up here.” She jabbed her finger toward the floor.
Trip’s jaw shifted as he stared at his ol’ lady. After a second, he jerked his chin toward the door. “Let’s fuckin’ go. Can’t wait to hear this fuckin’ bullshit.”
Sig remained where he stood as his brother stalked to the door and ripped it open. Then Trip disappeared and his heavy boots could be heard stomping down the metal steps at a fast clip.
Blowing out breath in an attempt to cool his simmering blood, Sig began to follow him and Stella stopped him by calling out his name. He paused and glanced over his shoulder at the woman who normally tried to be the peacemaker between him and Trip. She normally didn’t encourage them to do what they needed to do and “get it done.”
“Get this fixed between the two of you and soon,” she ordered, her blue eyes narrowed on him. “You two are fucking blood whether you like it or not. So, act like it. I’m not going to live through a repeat of what happened twenty fucking years ago, do you understand that, Sig? Not again.”
“Nobody wants to live through that shit again, Stel. Not one of us. That’s why it was fuckin’ stupid of him to resurrect the goddamn Fury.” With that, Sig closed the door behind him, doing his best not to slam it and wake Red. If she was even sleeping.
He slowly and carefully made his way down the steps, into the backdoor of the bunkhouse, down the long, narrow corridor and finally through the door at the end of the hallway which led to the main area of The Barn.
The Blood Fury’s church.
Thank fuck it was empty. No one playing pool. No one playing darts. No one getting drunk or high. Or getting their dick sucked or fucked by a sweet butt on one of the school bus bench seats that lined some of the walls.
Trip had gotten a good deal on them and they were easy to clean.
His brother was fucking way smarter than Sig. He had an eye for business and a Pitbull-like determination to make something out of nothing more than anyone else Sig knew.
Sig always admired him when they were kids and had been thrilled when Trip wanted to hang with him, even though Sig was three years younger.
They had been close like brothers before they even knew they were.
Now, things weren’t the same. Things had changed for both of them because of that day. The day Razor shot Buck dead on top of Sig’s mother.
Sig strode right past Trip, who stood waiting with his hands on his hips, his baseball cap thrown onto the bar and his hair hanging loose.
Was the fucker ready to go at it with him?
“Not fightin’ with you, Prez. Would be unfair since I got cracked ribs. Lemme heal up first and then if you wanna go a round, we can fuckin’ do that.” He ducked behind the bar, grabbed the Wild Turkey and a glass, pouring himself a healthy dose of medicine to dull the pain. He downed it, hissed and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.
“Don’t wanna fight with you, Sig. You’re my VP, you’re my partner in the repo biz, you’re my goddamn brother. Wanted you here.” Trip dropped his head and shook it, staring at his boots. “Gotta keep your shit clean.”
“I am.”
Trip’s head popped up and he shot a glare in Sig’s direction. “Are you fuckin’ shittin’ me? Let’s break this shit down...”
Oh fuck. Sig lifted a palm. “Don’t need to. I fucked up. Admit to it.” He poured himself another double shot and downed that quickly with another hiss.
“You’re damn right you fucked up. And also noticed you didn’t say it won’t happen again.”
“Want me to lie?”
Trip ignored that. “You might’ve fucked up our relationship with the Amish. We fuckin’ need them, Sig. They do a lot of work for us. Not only construction, but they provide shit from their farms, like meat, eggs, milk, fruit, veggies, even hand-rolleds. All which saves us a fuckton of money. If I had to buy all that shit from the store to feed everyone, the club coffers would be empty and we’d have to raise dues. Anyone livin’ in the bunkhouse would also have to pay more a month to live here. You get that, right? Need to keep a good relationship with those Amish. All of ‘em. They’re one fuckin’ close-knit community. Like we should be. But you stickin’ your dick in their women creates a huge fuckin’ issue.”
“She came to me.” Why the fuck did he feel the need to defend himself? Rebecca didn’t get anything she hadn’t asked for. In fact, she got everything she asked for. Even to keep her virginity. “Brother, she was fuckin’ legal, which I know is one of your concerns.”
“You think? That’s a huge goddamn concern and rightly so. And don’t care if she was forty. You don’t fuck with ‘em. Not one. Leave ‘em all th
e fuck alone. You don’t?” He jabbed his finger toward the back of the barn. “All those fields out there? All those fuckin’ fields our granddaddy farmed? All those fields those Amish families are farmin’ for us? And, in turn, providin’ us with a shitload of food, tobacco and all the rest? You fuck that shit up and you’re gonna be out there farmin’ it all yourself. You. Give you a goddamn hoe. And not the kind of ho that’s got a pussy. You got me?”
Sig stared at the empty glass in front of him. The whiskey hadn’t kicked in yet. His blood was still humming, his ribs aching, his temples throbbing.
He didn’t need any of this shit. He never should’ve come back. Knew it was a mistake to come back to this rinky-dink fucking town with nothing to do but beat off or find some available pussy to pass the fucking time.
Knew it was a mistake to promise Trip he’d stick around.
Knew it was a mistake to take that VP slot.
And a mistake to tell Trip he’d help with the repo business.
Also, knew it was a huge fucking mistake to come back to a place that had nothing but bad fucking memories.
Nothing could or would wipe that shit away.
Nothing.
And now upstairs was a woman living her own nightmare.
One that could be a million times worse than Sig’s ever was.
“Know what the worst of it is? What Rebecca’s brothers told me? You weren’t just stickin’ your dick in her ass, but beatin’ it bloody with your goddamn belt!” Trip’s face was now red and he was beginning to pace. Sig waited for the steam to come shooting out of his ears. “And if you continue fuckin’ with ‘em and knock one up? Fuck! Don’t be surprised if those supposedly peaceful people suddenly find a loaded shotgun to borrow. Think you look bad now? Either you’ll find your fuckin’ ass full of buckshot or with a goddamn ring on your finger and workin’ one of their farms, barefoot in cow pies and your calloused fingers pullin’ on cows’ titties. Which of those sound good to you?”
Neither. Because neither was going to happen. “Can’t get ‘em pregnant usin’ the hole I’m usin’. They get what they want and save what they need to for their future husbands. Supposed to be virgins and they remain so that way. It’s a fuckin’ win-win.”
Blood & Bones: Sig (Blood Fury MC Book 2) Page 6
