Chicago Defiance Box Set Part One

by K E Osborn

  Trax looks to me. “Babe, please don’t worry. He hasn’t found you. If he had, there would have been trouble, yeah? And there hasn’t been. We’re just being extra cautious, especially with our twins on the way. I don’t want to risk anything. He is, by all accounts, a crazy fucker, so I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “Okay, I get that.”

  He reaches out grabbing my hand. “I will always look out for you, for the three of you. You’re my life, Mylee.”

  I sink a little knowing Everett’s out there, on the hunt. However, knowing Trax and the club are doing everything to safeguard me, it’s bearable to deal with. So far, nothing has come of it. I’ve been at Defiance for months without Everett making contact, so they must be doing something right.

  We continue into the Heart of Italy as Trax drives us to our destination telling me about how they have the best calzone. Pulling up the truck, he jumps out running around to open my door, before I have a moment to think. I giggle at his chivalrous side—this big burly biker going out of his way for his woman. You’d never think he could be like this to look at him with his stereotypical broad shoulders, arms, and neck covered in tattoos, his pierced nose and tatty hair, not to mention the scruffy beard and cut. He looks like a rough around the edges badass, but he’s my badass, and I love how he falls over himself for me. I couldn’t feel more honored if I tried.

  We walk inside the restaurant, and it’s bustling with lunchtime visitors. But Trax doesn’t keep his hands far from me. I notice his eyes are everywhere taking in everything around us. He’s on edge. Which has me a little on edge. As he leads us in, suddenly Enzo appears letting out a loud almost shriek as he rushes toward us, along with two men flanked by his sides. They’re all wearing smart black pinstriped suits with gold chains hanging around their necks. They look completely ridiculous in this pizzeria, but the smiles they’re sporting make me feel welcome as Enzo grabs Trax pulling him into a man hug, much to Trax’s discomfort.

  “Trax, my boy, so glad you wanted to come to my place for lunch with your woman. I have a table at the back set up for you two, all romantic like candles and everything. You have whatever you want on the menu, anything you need, it’s yours. My house is your house.”

  Trax and I grin. “Thanks, Enzo. I know we’ve had our… differences, but I do appreciate you looking out for us like this,” Trax states.

  Enzo leads us to the table, the two guys in the matching suits following us, like they’re our guards or some shit. I wonder briefly if this is why we’re here. I think Trax brought me here for lunch because Andretti’s men can watch over us while we eat. Trax can enjoy our lunch together while Enzo’s men keep a lookout for Everett. I think he’s a bigger threat than Trax is letting on. But I’m not going to let Trax know I’m in on what he’s doing. At least he’s making an effort to get me out of the clubhouse even if we are protected by Italian Mafiosos.

  I don’t mind.

  Having the protection around me, though a little daunting, it’s actually good. I don’t have to worry about Everett, and I can relax and enjoy my lunch. I slide into the red booth smiling at the table adorned with a gingham cloth covering it, a set of candles, and even a single red rose in the middle. It’s super sweet as Trax slides in the other side facing out so he can see everything. I sink into the booth seat taking a breath. It’s not normal, not in the least. I can see the suited guys standing off to the right watching us like I suspected. I know they will stay there for the entirety of our lunch. Nothing about my life is normal, but for me having a lunch date with my biker man, it couldn’t be more perfect right now.

  Enzo steps up placing some menus in front of us. “Your menu, madam. Please, eat as much as you can, you’re eating for three, so I expect you to have one of everything on the menu. Your boy here did me a solid, so anything you want, you can have.”

  I laugh. “Well, it smells amazing in here.”

  He puffs out his chest wide. “I like her, Trax. You’re welcome here any time, lovely lady. I’ll get you some water? Juice? Soda?”

  “Juice would be nice, thanks.”

  “Coming right up. Trax you can have a soda,” he states walking off not giving Trax the choice.

  I laugh as Trax rolls his eyes. “Fucking Enzo,” he murmurs as I reach out across the table grabbing his hand. “Thanks, for this. I know you and the Andretti’s don’t have the best track record, but thanks for bringing me here. Plus, Italian food… yum!”

  “Only the best for my girl.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  MYLEE

  Our lunch date continues, and I eat far too much food feeling a little too full, almost to the point of nausea. I notice the Mafiosos haven’t left our side the entire meal, but I actually feel grateful not annoyed about it at all.

  After thanking Enzo, we left and are making our way into the city to see Dr. Branson the OB/GYN. But as we round the corner, the traffic is piled up. I can see flashing lights way ahead in the distance. “Shit, I think there’s an accident or something?”

  Trax groans looking to the clock on the dash. “Hopefully, the delay isn’t too bad, or we’ll be late. Lunch ran a little too long,” Trax stresses.

  The traffic moves slowly. My anxiety creeping higher and higher. I hate being late and knowing there’s nothing we can do to get through this traffic any quicker is annoying me. “It’s okay. When we get there, I’ll pull up out the front, and you can run in, then I’ll park and follow you.”

  I relax a little as we slowly edge up closer and closer to the accident. Eventually, we’re able to pass the graphic scene.

  Trax grips onto my knee. “Don’t look, babe,” he warns.

  I quickly look to Trax while he watches the road as we finally pass the pedestrian versus car accident, and he makes his way to the building pulling in right next to the door. “Go straight in, do not stop for anything. I will wait right here until I see you go inside, then I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he instructs. I lean over giving him a brief kiss then turn quickly jumping out of the truck before someone honks at him. I run to the door, turn back giving him a brief wave before I walk inside and up to the counter. Turning back and looking out the glass door, I see him driving off like a lunatic as I take a breath and swing around to the redheaded receptionist.

  “I’m sorry I’m late. I’m Mylee Bannerman. I’m here to see Dr. Branson.”

  The assistant hardly looks to me. “It’s fine, that accident out there is causing chaos here today anyway. Come with me, I’ll take you straight through, the doctor’s waiting.”

  Nerves run through me. I want to wait for Trax, but I don’t want to keep Dr. Branson waiting any more than we already have. “My partner, Konnor, is just finding a parking space, so can you let him come through when he arrives?”

  “Of course.”

  We reach the door, but the redhead doesn’t look in, just merely opens it absentmindedly gesturing for me to walk in. I step inside as she closes the door behind me. Looking in, I see Dr. Branson standing by the giant window wearing a lab coat, he’s gazing out onto the street obviously checking out the accident. But as I take a closer look, I feel like his height is different, maybe even his stature. Shit! Something about him looks off. Has his hair color changed?

  When he turns around, all the air is knocked from my lungs once I take in the man before me.

  He’s definitely not Dr. Branson.

  It’s Everett fucking Scott.

  I gasp.

  I want to make a run for it, but my body won’t move.

  I’m stunned to the spot as fear creeps over every inch of my body, my skin prickling in goosebumps as a cold sweat runs over me. “Everett?”

  “Found you!” his voice is deep, menacing, and it sends a chill through me. Then it hits me—a memory, a flashback. Me, in the hospital, him over me in a lab coat at my drip. He was there. He knew where I was the entire time. I just didn’t remember until this very moment seeing him in the same outfit.

  “You! You
were at the hospital when I found out I was pregnant, weren’t you?”

  He tilts his head smirking at me—it’s menacing and evil. “If I knew where you were all this time, don’t you think I would have come sooner?”

  I jolt my head back. “So, you weren’t there?”

  He laughs. “I think you might have been dreaming of me, beautiful.”

  My body shudders as I glance around the room. “Where’s Dr. Branson?”

  He looks to the floor behind the desk. I can barely make out a hand sprawled on the floor, so I move slightly to see the doctor knocked out with blood pooling from his head. I let out a loud gasp as I spin without hesitation to run, but his fast pace catches me quickly. He spins me, his body pressing me up against the door blocking me in. His warm breath breathing against my face as his onyx eyes stare deep into mine—his are cold, dark, haunted.

  “You were never meant to leave me, Mylee,” he murmurs as his hand comes up caressing my face, a cold shudder running down my spine in fear.

  “Leave you? I was never y-yours.”

  He snorts out a laugh. “We’re destined, you and me.”

  I raise my brow, curling my lip. “How can you think that?”

  He takes a deep breath. “We were at the hospital at the same time, fate brought us together. Destiny intervened showing me the way. For the world to be right, for the world to be on the right path, we have to be on the right path. Do you hear what I’m saying?”

  Tears well in my eyes, thoughts of my babies cross my mind. I don’t want him to hurt them. I don’t care about me, just don’t hurt my babies. I have no idea what he’s planning, all I know is I need Trax to get here and soon. But right now I need to delay Everett. “Why don’t we take a seat, and we can talk this out?”

  He lets out a sinister laugh. “You think I’m stupid? You think I’m crazy? I planned all this meticulously.” I raise my brow, trying not to answer honestly. “Mylee, I know your biker will be here any minute, so we have to leave... now.”

  My brows pull together. “No!”

  “Yes!” He grabs my hand yanking me. I move to pull away, but he drags out a syringe with an attached needle from his lab coat pocket. I tense up halting my movements. “You walk out of here with me calmly, like nothing’s wrong, or I will stab this into your stomach.”

  I tense up, but notice there’s nothing in the syringe. I wonder what the hell game he’s playing at here. “There’s nothing in the syringe, Everett?”

  He cocks his brow at me. “There’s air, Mylee. Do you know what happens when you inject air into the body?” My body trembles not really wanting to know the answer. “When an air bubble enters through a vein, it's called a venous air embolism. Or if it enters through an artery, it's called an arterial air embolism. The air then travels to your brain, heart, or lungs and causes a heart attack, stroke, or respiratory failure… wouldn’t want that now… would we?” His words send shock right through me. I gasp as my palms coat in a fine mist of sweat. I can’t believe it, why is he doing this?

  “What do you want?” I whimper.

  “I told you. Come with me quietly. We have work to do.” He spins me, wrapping his arm around me while the other carefully positions the needle at my side making me whimper out a stifled moan as he reaches for the door. “Not a peep, you got it?”

  I shudder as he slowly opens the door. We step out into the small hall. Unfortunately, there’s a wall blocking our view into the main waiting room so no one can see us from here. Tears flood my eyes as he pulls me in the opposite direction making us head out the back way, away from the reception desk. Away from where I know Trax will be coming in any second now.

  TRAX

  Finding a parking space was a fucking nightmare. I know I’m probably missing out on important shit right now. All I want is to fucking get in there with my woman to see what the hell’s going on. Once I finally found a space, I raced inside, and I’m now walking up to the front door in a mad rush. Yanking open the door, I stride in to see Mylee isn’t in the waiting room. She must have gone in already.

  Fuck.

  I don’t want to miss anything, so I walk over to the reception desk. The redhead looks up at me through her glasses and smiles a little wider than your typical smile. I inwardly chuckle knowing why.

  “Afternoon. I think my woman, Mylee, has gone in with the doc, can I head in there?”

  She bats her eyelashes at me. “Sure thing. She went in about five minutes ago, just head straight on through.”

  I turn heading past the wall to the door of the doctor’s room, but the door is slightly ajar. I furrow my brows thinking it’s a little odd as I approach. Pushing the door to see no one’s inside, I take a breath thinking they must have gone to have the ultrasound area already when I hear a slight groan from the floor. I turn back, then I see it. Someone’s laying on the floor behind the desk.

  I burst through the door, my heart leaping into my chest as I race around the desk to see Dr. Branson in a pool of his own blood, oozing from his head. My chest tightens, and I immediately begin to panic.

  Where the fuck is Sparx?

  I roll the doctor over, his eyes flutter open as he looks to me. I wave my hand over his face as he comes to. “Are you with me?”

  He groans a little more. “Someone got me good.”

  I tense. “Someone hit you?” I ask as he moans against his movements. “Do you know who?”

  He shakes his head. “Some guy dressed in a doctor’s robe, he kept saying he was coming for her, that he was going to take her. They were destined to be together, then he knocked me out when I tried to get him to leave.”

  Panic washes over me, and I stand abruptly. “Fuck! It’s shit you got hurt, but I have to go,” I tell him bolting out of the room, my feet feeling like fucking lead, they’re so heavy. I can’t seem to move fast enough, nothing I do is making me move quicker than I need to.

  I burst out of the room, running out into the reception area. “Did you see where a doctor took my woman?” I burst out, the redhead shakes her head looking confused.

  “No, she’s been in with Dr. Branson ever since she arrived.”

  Running my fingers through my hair, I groan. “Dr. Branson’s hurt, you might want to see to that. Is there a back exit?” I ask.

  “Yeah, but it’s only for staff.”

  “This is an emergency, I think someone’s kidnapped my woman. Show me the exit. Now!”

  She stands up rushing from behind her desk. We run down the back of the hall toward a door that’s ajar and swinging freely in the breeze. Dread fills me as I get to the top of the stairs and look out to see fresh tire marks. I grip my hair as I look to the redhead, her head swings from side to side like she’s confused.

  “This door shouldn’t be open,” she murmurs. I let out a loud groan as I rush down the metal stairs looking around trying to see anything, but all I can notice is an empty parking lot with fresh tire marks. My chest aches with overwhelming pain.

  Everett has Mylee, and I have absolutely no idea where to begin looking.

  What the hell to do.

  Holy shit.

  I breathe in and out so fast I realize I need to keep myself together.

  I need to think.

  I’ve got to keep my shit together for my woman and my babies.

  Yanking my cell from my jeans pocket, I hit the number I need right now. The only man I can think of to help me.

  It rings, and for a moment I think he isn’t going to answer, then I hear a giggling girl sounding an awful lot like Cindi down the line and muffled kissing noises. “This better be fucking good, Trax.”

  “I need you right now… Everett has Sparx.”

  Ace grunts, the cell muffles slightly like he’s arranging himself, then he clears his throat. “Fuck. Where are you?”

  “At the doctor, he took her, Ace. I wasn’t there to stop him. I just… oh fuck!” I yell out so loud it echoes through the parking lot.

  “Okay. I’m on it, you coming back to
the clubhouse?”

  My stomach sinks. I don’t know what the fuck to do. My instinct is to go, search the streets, just fucking look. But what the fuck am I looking for? My time is better spent back at the clubhouse trying to narrow the search area down, with my brothers by my side. And I have a call to make, a fucking call I never ever wanted to make to her father—to Crest, the man I look up to, the man I respect, the man I have now let down.

  Fuck.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  MYLEE

  My hands are covered in sweat as I stare out the window of the car wondering what the hell I’m going to do. I’m caught here questioning just what Trax is thinking, what he’s doing, what hell he’s going through while I’m stuck here in a car with a crazy guy I met while in a psych hospital. I take a deep breath turning to look at Everett trying to think of how I should play this. “You look like you’re doing well, Everett,” I murmur.

  He looks to me letting out a small laugh. “I’ve never been better, Mylee. You, me, we never belonged in that place. My father, he put me there for no good reason. It only made me edgy, made my skin crawl. I’m better off out of there.”

  I raise my brow wondering why the hell he hasn’t been recommitted a long time ago—I suspect he’s completely off his meds right now. He never wanted to take his medication, and that fact always sent him spiraling. His thoughts on government conspiracies, the way the world was working against him, always made me question his logic. I tried to stay away from him in the hospital, but he gravitated toward me, never leaving me alone. It got so bad they had to put him in solitary for a while because they thought he might do something to harm either one of us. Or another patient. His attachment to me for some reason seems like it’s something to do with a childhood friend of his who died when she was young.

  He said in the hospital I reminded him of her. My golden locks, my innocent features. Through me, he was connected to her. When she died, that’s when he became unstable from what I’ve been able to understand. They were playing in his father’s barn with his rifles. They were only about six or seven when the gun went off accidentally killing the girl instantly right in front of Everett. He was never the same and has been in and out of psych wards ever since. His father, the senator, trying his hardest to hide his son’s secret past—the past where Everett shot his best friend, then lost his mind in the process—is something that doesn’t sit well on record for a man running for president. Malcolm Scott has done a good job keeping his private life under wraps. The world knows he has a son, but they know nothing about said son. It’s all been hidden really well, and I know if news broke of the Senator’s son being mentally unstable, then the Senator’s chances for the race to the white house would probably be tarnished.