CLUB TIES (The Trinity Falls Series)

by Mara McBain

A commotion at the nurse’s station caught her attention as she stepped into the hall. Ginny and Flo were nose to nose. Eva groaned. News traveled fast in Trinity Falls. Flo shoved Ginny, and Rain jumped to their queen’s defense, but the head nurse stepped between them with a sharp whistle.

  “Whoa!” she said, holding a hand up to each of them. “This is not the WWE.”

  “Ami, you know the history,” Ginny said, turning to the nurse in exasperation. “Mox does not want her in there.”

  “I do know the history, and he’s a big boy now. Until Mox wakes up, I’m saying no. You can wait in the waiting room, Florence. I will let him know when he wakes up again that you’re here and want to see him. Until then, his fiancé is sitting with him.”

  “His what?” Flo shouted.

  Eva didn’t wait to hear the rest of the conversation. If she didn’t go now, she’d never leave.

  Chelios had been surprised to hear her voice, but it hadn’t taken the Greek long to understand what she wanted. He’d called her back within twenty minutes with a reassurance the deal was in place. Now he was on his way to pick her up from the greasy spoon she and Mox had eaten breakfast at the day he’d bought Vixen for her. Her heart ached at the thought of their baby. They’d never made it home to her this morning.

  Twisting the ring on her finger, she stared out the window. She didn’t want to take it off. It gave her courage, and she knew it would infuriate Rocco, maybe push him over the edge. She sighed. That wasn’t fair to Mox. Maybe he could still get his money back. Picking up an auto parts receipt, Eva dug for a pen to leave him a note. It wasn’t the explanation he deserved, but it was something.

  When she was done, she placed it in the console and slipped the ring underneath it. Chelios’ Audi pulled up in front of the truck. She squinted against the headlights. Her heart pounded. Pulling the keys and tucking them under the floor mat, she took a deep breath and jumped down from the driver’s seat. Locking the door, she walked slowly toward his car, praying he’d just shoot her here in the parking lot and be done with it.

  Chelios stepped from the car. Eva shook her head. It was six o’clock in the morning, and his suit was impeccable, sunglasses in place. He was one cool customer. She felt wrinkled and soiled, like a walk of shame. Circling the back of the car, he opened the passenger rear door and waited. She raised an eyebrow at the backseat.

  “That’s a little formal for my last ride.”

  He closed the door and opened the front one for her without question.

  “Thank you, Mr. Chelios.”

  “My pleasure, Miss Taylor.”

  Eva waited until they were underway to speak again. “What’re your orders?”

  “I’m to bring you to him.”

  “Why not just kill me?”

  “You know the answer to that,” he said softly.

  Eva nodded. She did. Rocco wanted her to suffer, and he wanted it to be at his hands. She settled back in the seat, the side of her head resting against the window. She rubbed the indentation left behind by the ring as she watched the scenery rush by. It had been there for such a short time, but it had left its mark, much like Mox and his family had left a mark on her heart.

  Chapter ~ 35

  Eva’s teeth chattered despite the steam coming off the bubble bath. Her nerves were wound to the breaking point, every ending tingling in fear and anticipation. Instead of Chelios taking her to one of the seedy warehouses downtown, he’d driven her home to Rocco’s palatial property on the shores of Lake Erie. He’d shown her through the silent house and to the suite of rooms that had always been hers. The only threat had come about when she’d hesitated taking a bath. Chelios had made it clear that either she took a bath on her own or he’d assist her. What kind of game was Rocco playing?

  Unable to sit still, she climbed from the tub and wrapped a thick bath sheet around herself. Securing her hair in another towel, she peeked into the bedroom. Chelios had made himself comfortable by the windows overlooking the water.

  “You got a text. Your friend Reaper is out of surgery and things are looking good. They’re worried about you and want to know where you’re at. It seems you made quite the impression in a month. I took care of the phone for you. Get dressed. The boss wants you to join him for breakfast,” he said, watching her every expression.

  “Breakfast?” she asked in disbelief, stress making the word come out little more than a squeak.

  He looked up and cocked a sarcastic brow at her.

  “You know, the meal first thing in the morning when you break your fast?”

  Eva ignored his sarcasm and sank down on the dressing table stool. “Why is he doing this?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine, doll.”

  “Just shoot me,” she whispered, slumping over the table with her head in her hands.

  “Or shoot him,” Chelios muttered under his breath, but Eva heard him. He shrugged when she looked up at him in surprise. “I was loyal to his father, but I’ve never been a big fan of the son. Unfortunately for us all, I made a promise to Vincent.”

  The cloying smell of maple turned Eva’s stomach. Rocco sat at the end of the table with another place setting to his left. His eyes burned into her as she skirted around the monstrous dining room table. She stopped behind her chair, clasping her hands together to still the shaking. He nudged the chair out with his foot and indicated she should take a seat with a slight incline of his head.

  Swallowing the rising burn, Eva carefully sat down. She was so tense her joints creaked. With a flick of his wrist, Rocco waved the maid forward to serve the meal. A grotesque necklace of finger bruises ringed the Filipino’s slender throat. Eva averted her gaze.

  Feeling Rocco’s stare, she took great interest in spreading the linen napkin across her lap. She wanted to fling the food in his face and end the charade. Regrettably, it seemed she’d used up her allowance of bravado for the day, or was it stupidity?

  “Eat your breakfast, Eva,” Rocco chided.

  She picked up her fork automatically. The silver utensil shook violently in her hand, and she gripped it until her knuckles whitened. She looked at her plate for the first time. A flawless egg-white omelet lay out before her. It was her favorite. Was this a sick play on a last meal? Knowing he was waiting, she forked a sliver of the asparagus and cheese between her lips and prayed she could keep it down.

  He nodded in approval and dug into his breakfast. She kept her bites small, trying not to taste anything for fear of triggering her nausea.

  “So tell me about him?”

  Eva’s head jerked up, shaking negatively without conscious decision.

  Rocco frowned in response.

  “It’s a simple request. I think I have the right to know something about the man whom you’ve been playing whore for these past weeks. I like to know a little something about people that I’m going to kill.”

  Eyes wide in distress, Eva choked on the bite she’d just taken. He reached over to pat her back.

  “You promised,” she whispered.

  Rocco shrugged slightly and offered a cold smile. “I lied.”

  A scream ripped from her raw throat as icy water splashed over her dangling body, dragging her back from the welcome darkness. Her back felt like it was on fire, the skin shredded by the whip. Struggling against the ropes, Eva stretched for a toe hold, swinging helplessly. Her shoulders ached from the strain. Blood trickled down her arms from her abraded wrists, feeling hot against her chilled skin.

  She wet her cracked lips and searched the shadows for Rocco. As long as he was here, he wasn’t hurting Mox or his family. Rage boiled up in her. The son-of-a-bitch had promised if she came in, no one else would get hurt. I lied. His glib answer had enraged her, but she should have known better.

  “You’re a liar,” she croaked out. “A man is only as good as his word, and your word doesn’t mean shit!” Her heart pounded, sounding loud in a silence broken only by the waves and the creak of the rope. Where was he? “I’m told that your father wa
s a man of honor! People respected him and were loyal to him. He must be spinning in his grave, seeing the way you’ve turned out,” she shouted, turning slowly at the end of the rope. A low sob escaped her throat at the continued silence. “It’s no wonder your mom offed herself! It must have been humiliating to produce a self-entitled, whiny little pu—”

  Pain detonated behind her closed lids as something metal bounced off the slope of her cheekbone. She reached for the darkness, praying, but a fist in her hair yanked her back to reality. Cold metal pressed against her mouth, bruising her lips. She gasped in pain, and the gun barrel slid over her tongue, lodging deep. She gagged, struggling against the invasion.

  The fistful of her hair kept her head still as he fucked her mouth with the shiny barrel. His dark eyes glittered malevolently in the gloom of the boathouse.

  “Don’t talk to me about loyalty,” he whispered, pressing so close she felt the movement of his lips against her cheek. “You are a faithless cunt. I rescued you from flea bitten poverty and gave you a life very few people even dream of. What I was entitled to was gratitude and a little respect. I want you to think about that while you watch a little movie I prepared just for you.”

  Eva shuddered as he kissed her cheek, the gun barrel gliding in and out. His tongue traced the shell of her ear before he pulled back, reluctance clear in his glittering stare. He eased the gun from her mouth and spun her to face a large screen television.

  “Enjoy.”

  Straining to retain a toehold, Eva listened to his footsteps fade away. She flinched as the door slammed shut. The flickering light of the television drew her attention back. The video was grainy and the camera man obviously an amateur. Her stomach clenched. What kind of pornographic filth was Rocco going to force on her?

  A sigh escaped her lips as her bonds relaxed a little and she could stand, the strain on her shoulders lessening. She frowned as the camera panned a familiar kitchen. She recognized the antique pie safe with the decorative punched tin inserts in the door. A date stamp in the bottom corner of the picture was today’s date. Panicking, Eva searched the screen like she could somehow see beyond the camera’s range.

  A scream shattered the silence. Eva’s heart leapt. The sound of a scuffle could be heard off screen. The camera veered down the hall. Her grandparents’ bedroom came into focus. A strangled sob escaped Eva’s lips. Her grandmother huddled against the headboard, her old-fashioned housecoat clasped around her. Something waved in front of the camera, and it wasn’t until the third or fourth pass Eva recognized the Louisville Slugger her grandpa always kept by the door.

  Her head shook back and forth franticly and she strained against her bonds, as if she could reach out and stop the horror happening before her. The baseball bat whistled through the air and made a sickening thunk as it struck. Her grandmother screamed in agony, but Eva could see she was unharmed. The bat swung again, and the truth struck her with all the force of the White Ash stick.

  Screaming in fury and anguish, Eva yanked on the ropes as the onscreen bat rose and fell, blood splattering the camera lens and her grandmother’s faded floral housecoat. It made a sick, wet sound as it pummeled the broken body. Shifting, the shot zoomed in on her grandfather’s battered form just as the bat shattered his skull like a melon. Eva wailed her grief.

  The sound of rending fabric forced her tear-filled eyes back to the screen, and she went nuts watching her frail grandmother struggle against rough hands. A fist glanced off the side of the old woman’s head, diminishing her fight. They tied her spread-eagle, her arm lying across the bloodied remains of her husband. The robe and nightgown shredded under the attacker’s grasping hands, baring her white, wrinkled flesh.

  “Noooo,” Eva sobbed, hanging her head, her eyes clenched tight against the indignities transpiring before her. Her grandmother didn’t make a sound as they ravaged her. The grunt of breath and slap of skin echoed tauntingly through the boathouse. Eva’s stomach heaved its meager contents, convulsing painfully, long after there was nothing left to expel. “I will kill you, you sick son-of-a-bitch!” she screamed, thrashing wildly.

  Rage consumed every inch of her body. A hatred like nothing she’d ever felt before burned in her heart. She wanted to kill the sick bastard. A flickering light on the screen pulled her reluctant gaze back. A strangled cry ripped from her throat. Fire licked the lace curtains beside her grandparents’ bed. Liquid splashed over the bed sheets and her grandma’s body. The old woman twisted against the ties as the flames crept across the bed.

  The camera was as cruel as Rocco. It spared her nothing. She watched her grandmother’s flesh crisp in the flames, her withered body curling in on itself as the fire consumed her bonds. The screams would echo in Eva’s mind forever.

  Chapter ~ 36

  Ginny rubbed at her temple, staring pleadingly at her phone like she could will it to ring. Where the hell had she gone? They’d searched the hospital from top to bottom when she’d discovered Eva gone from Mox’s room—nada. She’d just sent Rhys and Tech over to check the apartment, but couldn’t imagine Eva willingly leaving the hospital alone after the morning they’d had. A niggling voice in the back of her mind argued that last point and Ginny pounded the back of her head against the concrete wall in frustration. If the girl was playing the sacrificial lamb, she was going to kill her.

  “What did that wall ever do to you?”

  Ginny searched her husband’s face, ignoring his attempt at humor. He shook his head.

  “Something bigger than us is going on with Rocco Soriano. I’m getting stonewalled. Murphy and I are going to head into work and see what we can find out.”

  “We need you here.”

  Zeke’s expression softened and he stepped close to cup the back of her neck. His thumb caressed the impression at the base of her skull. “It’s going to be okay. A couple of the guys are going to stay here and keep an eye on Reap and Mox. The rest of you are going to head back to the clubhouse and hole-up there.”

  “Do you think that’s necessary?”

  “Isn’t this why you girls wanted to make the clubhouse all homey? We didn’t renovate the second floor into bedrooms and bathrooms to have it sit there unused. This is a textbook time to circle the wagons and keep family close. If you need anything, let Bowie know.”

  “No, we have the place well stocked. The only thing might be clothes, but I have the overnight bag I packed, and I figure a couple of the others do as well. How long are we talking? I have a pub to run,” Ginny said, rubbing at her temple again.

  “I’ll call you when I know more. You stay put until I tell you otherwise.”

  Slumping against the wall, Ginny sighed, fingering the cigarette package in her purse.

  “Do you think he has Eva?”

  “Either that or she’s on the run.”

  “What does your gut say?”

  Zeke looked away for a moment, forehead furrowing as he considered his answer.

  “You’re thinking the same thing I am. You think that she made a deal, her life for Mox’s.”

  “I think there’s a pretty good chance that’s what happened. Just like I think there is little chance of him sticking to that kind of deal. Whatever happens to Eva, Mox isn’t safe as long as the slippery Wop is out there,” Zeke said.

  “Go do what you’ve got to do to make sure my baby is safe,” Ginny said, leaning up to kiss him decisively.

  “Will do, baby. Listen to Bowie and Crux. Don’t give them shit.”

  “I’ll listen to them just like I do you,” Ginny said with a little smile. Zeke rolled his eyes and waggled a forefinger in her face with a warning look.

  “Behave, or I will put a boot in your ass.”

  Ginny caught his arm as he turned away. He raised an eyebrow. An internal battle was evident on her face. He leaned back to give her another kiss. “I’ll do my best to bring your girl back, too, Mama.”

  Studying the sleeping man, Ginny couldn’t help but remember the little boy he’d been the last time s
he’d sat in a hospital with Mox. How things changed. He’d only been eleven when he had his tonsils out. She remembered crying on the payphone down the hall to Zeke because the hospital wouldn’t recognize her as a legal guardian. To this day, she didn’t know what he’d done to convince Miles and Flo to sign the paperwork granting them medical consent. He’d always hated it when she cried.

  Mox stirred. Ginny held her breath. She wasn’t looking forward to being the one to tell him Eva was gone. It was going to break his heart. He smiled at her and reached out to lay his hand on her crossed ankles that rested on the bed.

  “Did you bring the ice-cream?” he asked hoarsely.

  Ginny smiled, eyes welling up a little at the shared memory.

  “Any kind you like, baby. You scared the hell out of me.”

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing at his head. He frowned. “Did Eva go to get something to eat?”

  “It’s all part of being a mother. There’s never a dull moment in the Brawer clan.”

  “Where’s Eva?”

  “Reaper’s out of surgery and things are looking good. Either the guy is a shit shot or Reap is just really lucky. He took one in the chest and another in his left shoulder.”

  “Good. Reaper’s tough. I owe him,” Mox said softly. He stared at her, his eyes probing. “Where is Eva? I talked to her in the ambulance. I remember her being here earlier.”

  Ginny let her feet fall off the edge of the mattress and sat up with a sigh. Running her fingers through her hair, she searched for the right words. “I don’t know, baby. You’re right. She was here earlier. I left her sitting here with you while I checked on Reap and dealt with…with some shit, and when I came back, she was gone.”

  “What do you mean gone?”

  “We’ve been over every inch of this hospital, and she’s not here. Your dad pulled some strings and looked at the hospital’s security footage. She left alone. Your brother checked the apartment, and your truck is gone.”