by Lane Hart
“Because I asked them to,” he says simply. “Now go get your shit, so we can get out of here before someone gets shot.”
He can’t be serious. Why would he or anyone else go against some of the biggest, meanest sons of bitches I’ve ever met for me?
“I’m not worth the fallout, Nolan.”
“I wish I agreed, but here we fucking are!” he shouts. “If you’re not out in five minutes, we’ll leave and you’re on your own,” he says as he takes a step away from me. Just that small space of distance between us makes my heart gallop into a near panic that he’s not bluffing. He’s here trying to help, but he’s not going to twist my arm and wait forever.
For just a second, I quickly consider my options. The first one is to go back into the club, keep busting my ass until Leroy takes me home where I may or may not ever be able to leave alive. It’s hard to make money and pay tuition when you’re a sex slave for a controlling monster. Then there’s the second option – leaving with Nolan, moving to a new city, hoping he’s right about being able to keep me safe physically while doing a number on me emotionally, drudging up all the feelings I had for him in the past.
A broken heart is infinitely better than an abused and broken body any day of the week.
“I…what about my things at my apartment?” I ask him as my front teeth bite brutally into my bottom lip as I actually contemplate leaving with him.
“What do you think the van is for?” he asks, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to what I assume is the vehicle behind him. I can’t see it around his large frame, or maybe I just don’t want to look away from his handsome face, afraid he’ll disappear again if I even blink too long.
“And I won’t have to fuck you or anyone else?” I ask softly.
“No one will lay a fucking finger on you,” he promises in a deep grumble that I think I can trust. “In a few days, you’ll have a new identity and can leave if you want…”
“Okay,” I say on a sigh. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” Nolan replies with a heavy exhale that sounds like relief. “Hurry.”
Chapter Fifteen
Nolan
Well, the first part of our plan is done.
Now I just have to wait and see if Rita was lying or if she’ll actually come back out and leave with me.
It was stupid to think for even a second that she might want to stay with me. But I meant what I said. I won’t make her stay locked up as my prisoner. Reece is putting together new IDs and shit for her. Once she has those and as much money as she’ll need to start her life over in a new town, she’ll leave.
I still can’t believe she was being so goddamn stubborn. And I don’t buy for a second that her hesitation was because she’s worried about me or the other guys in the MC.
What if she’s playing me again?
“Is she coming or not?” Jake asks when I climb back into the driver seat of the van.
“Get in the back with Lucas,” I tell him.
“Yes, sir,” he agrees, opening the passenger door and then climbing in the empty cargo area. There are no seats, so the boys just sit across from each other with their backs to the walls surrounded by empty boxes stacked together in groups.
“It looked like you were arguing,” Lucas comments when I crank up the van. “Why wouldn’t she want to leave when the choice is you or that scary motherfucker?”
“That’s women for you,” I mutter as I reach up and adjust the rearview mirror so I can watch the back door. My heart’s beating so loud that the whole neighborhood can probably hear it as we wait, and wait, and wait some more.
What if she doesn’t come back? Roman and the other guys are going to be pissed I dragged them out of town this late all for nothing.
“Have you heard from the guys inside yet?” I ask the prospects just to try and distract myself from counting down the minutes.
“Yeah. Leo said there are only three guys from the other MC and that Marcus put two to sleep while Roman took out the third. Easy as pie,” Jake says. “Wish we could’ve seen it.”
“Yeah, would’ve been nice to see the Kings brawling and all those titties,” Lucas agrees.
“This place looks shady as hell,” Jake replies. “Bet these strippers will suck your dick for a little more cash.”
“They will,” I assure him. “Or at least they used to. Just ask Hugo and Abel.”
“No shit?” Lucas asks.
“Here’s a word of advice. A mouth you can fuck for the right price probably has herpes,” I warn them. “Stick to the girls playing hard to get. When they finally do cave, the sex will be even better, and you won’t get an STD.”
While I’ve been with plenty of women since Rita, especially after I got out of prison, none of them were even half as satisfying as those few weeks with her. Those long legs wrapped around my hips so tight I could barely move, her big, juicy ass swaying when I took her from behind, heavy tits swinging when she rode me. Fuck, it was hard as hell to leave her knowing I wouldn’t get to be inside of her for a few years. It was stupid of me to think she cared enough to wait…
Movement from the back door draws my eye to the rearview again and out of my dirty mind. Slowly, Rita opens it and steps outside with a big purse over her shoulder. Then, she slowly turns to shut it behind her as if she’s still debating her decision, putting her back to the mirror. The hem of her black dress is so short it’s barely covering her ass cheeks. It would be so easy to reach underneath and tug her panties down, a black thong, no doubt, and slam right inside that tight, wet pussy.
This woman is going to be the death of me, being so close to her and not being able to touch her. It’s a torture worse than being locked in a tiny prison cell for days on end.
I honk the horn impatiently, making her jump before she finally leaves the door and starts toward the van, coming up on the passenger side.
“Keep your mouths shut around her,” I tell the prospects before she opens the door. “And no talking about titties, especially hers!”
“Dammnn,” Lucas says, obviously seeing her approaching figure through the back and side windows. “I totally get why you would put the entire MC in danger for those tits and ass.”
“Shut up!” I shout at him just as Rita opens the passenger door.
The overhead light comes on, and then she stands there blinking at me. “I didn’t say anything.”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I explain, nodding my head toward the dummies in the back. “These are our prospects. They’re to be seen and not heard the rest of the night!”
“Hi,” Rita says to them with a small smile as she climbs up into the van and shuts the door.
As soon as her seatbelt clicks into place, I jerk the gearshift into drive and then we’re out of there.
“Jake, tell Roman we’re leaving,” I order, and when I see the glow of his phone from the corner of my eye, I know he’s on top of it.
“So, we’re going by my place?” Rita asks, her arms protectively around the purse sitting on her lap.
“Yeah. Only to grab what you’ll need right now. The prospects can come box up the rest later.”
“No,” she says. And when I glance over, she’s shaking her head, making her long, straight strawberry blonde hair whip back and forth.
“No?”
“I’ll get everything I need tonight so they won’t have to come back,” she explains. “Once I’m gone, Leroy will be watching the place, waiting for me to return. It’ll be too dangerous for anyone to go back unless they intend to put a clip of bullets in him.”
“Oh. Right. We’ll get everything tonight then.”
“Leroy didn’t have to work security at the club tonight, so he’s probably at the clubhouse drinking. He won’t come knocking on my door or anything tonight, but I do think he sometimes rides by and, um, sits outside at the curb, trying to look through my windows.”
“Fuck, that’s creepy,” Lucas says from the back.
“You can be as creepy as y
ou want when you’re almost seven feet tall and three hundred plus pounds. Who’s going to stop you?” Rita asks.
“The Savage Kings,” Jake responds without missing a beat.
“You’ll need lots of guns,” Rita starts.
“Check,” Lucas says easily.
“And be constantly on the lookout.”
“Easy enough,” Jake agrees. “The Kings scheduled everyone to alternate on a twelve-hour rotation.”
I make a noise for him to shut the hell up just as Rita repeats the last word, “Rotation?”
“Nolan is going to stay with you at the safe house at night, and someone else will be around and awake all the time,” Jake explains to her.
“That’s enough,” I warn him without taking my eyes off of the road.
I feel the weight of Rita’s eyes on me as I take the next left, heading to the apartment she’s lived in for more than five years. “You’re serious about this?”
“Do you think I would just show up here and bring you back with me without a fucking plan?” I ask her, even though that was initially my first thought before Roman got the whole table on board. Abel and Hugo would’ve helped me if I had asked, but I would’ve left without them instead of dragging them into a war with another MC.
With all of them, well, I know we can fucking stand against the Rebel Henchmen.
“You remember where I live?” she asks after the last turn before the apartment complex.
“I practically lived there for a few weeks,” I remind her.
Hell, I was in her apartment more than she was since she worked two jobs. There were only about five hours total that we had together in bed, from about three a.m. until eight. Most nights she would come in, shower, and pass out with her hair still wet, smelling like fresh roses in the rain and vanilla as I held her. Some mornings she woke up rowdy, but I never made the first move, preferring she get half an hour of sleep rather than a quick fuck. She did get an hour for lunch at the office and two for dinner, so I would get to see her over meals together.
What started out as me pursuing her, trying to get in her panties, ended up with me being a part of her normal life, which was even better than I expected.
At her apartment complex, I kill the engine on the van, and we all climb out. The prospects don’t have to be told we’re in a hurry. They saw Leroy at the clubhouse and don’t want to confront him again, even three on one.
They each grab an armful of boxes as we walk up the two flights of stairs to her apartment. Rita pulls her keys from her purse and unlocks the door, flipping lights on as she leads the way inside.
It’s still the same homey feeling as before. I don’t even think the furniture has changed. There’s a gray, microfiber sofa and matching chair in the living room facing a small flat screen. A few photos of her and Cory and their parents sit in frames on the mantle. On the walls are several pictures of flowers or the beach. I know that to the left is the master bedroom and bathroom and to the right is Cory’s old room and a hall bathroom.
“Rita, why don’t you take some boxes and start in the bedroom? The prospects will split up, one in the kitchen and one in the living room. Is there much left in Cory’s room?”
“No, he took everything but the dresser and bedroom set with him to his college apartment.”
“Good. Less to worry about. Is it okay if we leave the furniture?” I gesture to the sofa.
“Ah, yeah. It’s old. I’ve had it for seven or eight years now. I can replace them…eventually.”
“Okay then. Lucas, Jake, carefully throw what you can in boxes. There’s a closet in the hall with towels and sheets. Use those to wrap up the pictures.”
Rita just stands there with her purse on her shoulder, staring at me. “Yeah, I remember. Jesus, woman. Get moving!”
Jake hands her two boxes from his stack, and she finally hurries to the back bedroom. I don’t want to step foot in the room that holds some of my best memories and the worst. I would lie awake waiting for her to get home from the strip club, thinking about all the assholes who hit on her, wishing she didn’t have to work there.
“I’ll take boxes to the van as you fill them up and keep an eye on the road,” I tell the prospects. “I want to be out of here in an hour or less.”
“Yes, sir,” the boys both agree as they get to work.
I pull out my phone and check my messages, seeing one from Roman that they left the club and are going to hang around in town until we leave. Abel texted to tell me that him and Hugo will go and wait at the safe house to make sure the beds and shit are made.
No one got hurt or arrested yet, so I guess the first part of our plan was a success. Here’s hoping the rest goes as planned.
Chapter Sixteen
Rita
Packing up the apartment that I’ve lived in for eleven years, the first place I found and could afford after both of our parents died in a house fire is bittersweet. Back then, Cory was only a rough and rowdy ten-year-old, and I had just recently graduated from high school. What little money our parents had in their checking account that would’ve paid for my first semester at college was suddenly needed to survive.
There have been some good memories here, but mostly it’s just been lonely the last three years while my brother has been at college, doing what I never got a chance to do – live carefree with no one but himself to worry about.
If I had been able to get a bachelor’s, even a two-year associate degree from a community college, well, then maybe I wouldn’t be working myself to death at two shit-paying jobs.
Except, I’m not just leaving my apartment behind but my dead-end employment. I’ll have to start all over, finding a job in Myrtle Beach or another city. It’s a big tourist beach town most of the year, so there are probably better options there anyway.
The only thing holding me here was the lack of means to up and move. I’ve never had the spare cash to pay for the first month’s rent, last month’s, and security deposit at a new apartment.
I’m also thirty years old and hate change. But I think this is going to be a good one. It can’t be any worse, can it? Nolan said I’ll have a new name so I can start over somewhere new. I could go anywhere, but I should probably get as far away from Leroy and the Rebel Henchman as possible, so maybe I’ll go to the west coast or to Florida to be closer to Cory…
“That everything?” Nolan asks when he comes over and take the box of beauty products and shower supplies from me.
“That’s it. Your friends work fast,” I tell him as I glance back at the apartment one last time.
“You going to mail the apartment manager the keys?” he asks.
“Nah, I’ll go ahead and just drop them off in the rent deposit box. I’ll be right back,” I tell him as I start to the clubhouse in front of the pool. There’s a gym inside, but I never had the time to enjoy any of the amenities. Cory did, though. Once he hit his teens, he would invite his friends over to swim in the summer, and he worked out several times a week.
It wasn’t a normal life for such a young boy. I know I left him alone more than I should have while I worked, which is why he sometimes got into trouble. He just missed our parents and couldn’t stand being bored or alone for even a minute, because that’s when the memories would creep back up. I know from experience. It’s part of the reason why I was glad to have a day and night job so that there wasn’t much time to think about anything other than what I was being paid to do.
The keys drop down into the slot with a soft clang. I’ll have to call the office tomorrow and tell them I had to move on short notice, letting them decide if they want to leave the furniture for the next tenant or throw it all away.
For someone like me, young and broke, the bedroom sets and everything else would probably be a godsend even though it’s well used. The first beds I could afford for Cory and myself came from one of the rent-to-own stores that charged me a fortune. That was just one of many lessons to learn as an adult.
I was still living at home wi
th my parents when everything went up in flames. Cory and I didn’t have anything except a few bags of clothes and toiletries from the Red Cross. They put us up in a hotel for a week, and then we were on our own.
Since the fire was determined to be an arson, and there were no suspects so my parents couldn’t be ruled out as the ones who set it, the insurance company wouldn’t pay out. Why would my parents intentionally burn themselves up in their own home?
It was just luck that I was out with my friends, living it up before we went our separate ways to college and Cory was staying over at the neighbors when it happened that Saturday night.
“You okay?” Nolan asks when I return to the packed and loaded van.
“I’ve survived worse than Leroy,” I tell him.
“I know you have,” he replies, looking at me with pity on his handsome face. I’m not sure why it’s so surprising that he remembers not only where I lived but the layout of the apartment and the tragedy of losing my parents so young.
For a man who just up and left me one day, I thought I didn’t mean anything to him, that our time together was just him looking for a bed to crash in for a few weeks. So why would he even bother to remember any of the details about my life?
“The safe house is about two hours away. You need anything to eat or drink for the drive?” he asks.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. He nods and then walks around the van.
Mixed with the worry of starting over is some excitement, but the two emotions combine to make me feel mostly nauseous. Or maybe it’s putting my trust in a man who hurt me in the past that’s scaring me.
“Nolan,” I call after him, following him to the driver side of the van.
“Yeah?” he asks as he turns toward me, the van keys in his hand.
“How do I know you won’t up and leave me once we get to wherever we’re going?” I ask him.
