HANDS OFF MY WIFE_Black Cossacks MC

by Claire St. Rose

  I could feel the bloodlust in them rising as quickly as their anger. And I couldn't blame them. What the Incas were doing – what they had done – was unconscionable. It was monstrous. And as a club, we couldn't let that pass without answering – without making them answer for what they'd done.

  And, as the leader of the club, it was my responsibility to see that the Incas paid. That El Segador paid. If I let them get away with this, if I let this simply pass by without a response, I wasn't doing my job. I'd be losing face and letting all of the guys in the club down.

  At the same time, though, I couldn't let them go off all half-cocked. I couldn't let them rush into this fueled by their outrage and desire for vengeance – even though it was tempting to. The last thing I wanted was for any more of my guys to wind up with their throats cut. Or, maybe worse for them, rotting away in a prison cell for gutting those pieces of shit and getting caught.

  “Look, we're not going to let them get away with this shit,” I said. “We're going to answer in kind.”

  “Damn right,” Drew growled.

  “But we need to be smart about this,” I said. “We can just go rushing in blindly.”

  “My eyes are going to be wide open,” El said. “I want to see the look on their faces when I start beating their asses to death with my bat.”

  “Fuck that,” Duke grumbled, “I'm just going to start shooting every Inca prick I see.”

  I shook my head. “This is what I'm talking about,” I snapped. “We're not going in shooting and we're not going in swinging our fuckin' baseball bats around. We have to use our heads here.”

  The three of them looked at me and I could feel the hostility, feel the outrage coming off them every bit as hot as the heat from the fire coming off the wreckage of our bikes. They wanted revenge and weren't happy being told that they were going to have to wait for it – or that maybe it wasn't going to be as bloody as they'd wanted it to be.

  And I had to admit, there would be a lot of satisfaction in stomping those pieces of shit into the ground. It would feel really good to see their blood flowing, to hear their bones snapping, and to hear them screaming in pain. It would feel really, really good. But it would also be really, really dumb to pull something like that. The cops were already on high alert and if these pieces of shit turned up in one bloody pile of death, we were going to be the first – and probably only – ones looked at for it.

  I personally wanted to tear El Segador's throat out. I wanted to feel his blood all over my hands and look into his eyes as the life passed out of him. I wanted him to know that he was dying at my hands. And I wanted to do it for Dawkins. To dish out the justice he deserved.

  But I had a bigger responsibility. I had to protect the club and all of my brothers in it.

  “I get where you're coming from,” I said, “I really do. But it's my job to protect you guys and protect this club. If I sign off on a full-scale war with the Incas, we're all either going to end up dead or in prison. And I can't live with that. Not after Dawkins.”

  “Nobody's blaming you for that, bro,” El said.

  “I'm blaming myself for it,” I replied. “I let myself get distracted and didn't handle my shit. Well I'm on the ball now and we're going to get shit locked down good and tight. The Incas are going to get what's coming to them, but we're going to be smart about it.”

  “What's your plan?” Duke asked.

  “Don't know yet, man,” I said. “All I know is that the Incas are hoping we'll fuck up and come charging at them with guns blazing. They want to draw us into that kind of fight. So, if we go charging in there, we're fighting on their battlefield. And it's going to end badly for us. I can feel it. We're going to pick the battlefield and make them come to us.”

  Sirens sounded in the distance. Somebody had obviously called the cops and probably the fire department – which was probably the normal response when something blows up in a parking lot. But that meant we didn't have a lot of time.

  There was something bothering me, though. It was like a splinter in the back of my mind and I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. Why blow up our bikes? Was I overthinking it all? Had they simply been trying to goad us into a confrontation? Or was there something else, something more sinister going on here? Abbie. I left Abbie unguarded and completely unprotected.

  “Son of a bitch,” I said.

  “What?” Drew asked.

  “This was a fucking distraction,” I yelled as I started to run back toward the apartment.

  I sprinted across the parking lot, El, Duke, and Drew close on my heels. I bounded up the steps and slammed into Abbie's locked door.

  “Shit!” Taking a step back, I raised my foot and kicked the door as hard as I could. Wood splintered and the door flew inward, slamming into the wall behind it. The four of us crowded through the doorway and into Abbie's apartment.

  “Abbie!” I called out.

  Nothing. There was no response. We spread out through the place, looking for her in closets, under the bed, wherever we thought she could have been hiding. I ran into her bedroom and found the window open.

  “The fire escape,” I almost shouted. “Son of a bitch!” I rushed to the window just in time to see her car squealing out of the driveway. I pounded my fist against the windowsill as my guys filed into the room behind me. I turned around, my head pounding, and my face red with heat. “They have her,” I snarled. “They fucking have her.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  ABBIE

  I stood at the living room window and looked at the wreckage of the two motorcycles burning. Dark smoke filled the air and the fires were burning bright. King and his men were down in the parking lot and none of them looked all that pleased. Not that I could blame them. If somebody had blown up my car, I'd probably be pretty pissed off, too.

  I wanted to go down and check on him, make sure he was okay, but I knew now wasn't the time. And more than anything, I wanted to tell him about the messages, about Michelle, and about what was going on. But I knew doing that would be signing her death warrant. And I couldn't do that. I wouldn't do that.

  I had to go. Whoever the mysterious texter was had provided me a distraction. A brief window I could use to escape and I needed to take advantage of it. I had to get to Michelle.

  Turning away from the window, I grabbed my purse, my phone, and headed to my bedroom. I slid the window up and popped the screen out. My building was old, constructed well before I'd been born. Well before I'd even been thought of, to be honest. And I'd always found its antiquated architecture charming. But now the antiquated building served a practical purpose – providing me with a means of escape.

  With one last look back at my bedroom, the ominous feeling that I might never see it again, settling down around my heart, squeezing it tight, I climbed out onto the fire escape. Most newer buildings didn't have the old-fashioned fire escapes, but I was suddenly glad mine did.

  I stepped out onto the creaky old thing, half terrified it was so old it would crumble or collapse beneath my feet and send me toppling to the concrete below. Though I'd probably survive the fall, I had no doubts I would break something – a few somethings, probably – and I wanted to avoid it. With my heart thundering in my chest and my throat as dry as the Sahara, I took hold of the ladder and climbed my way down.

  When my feet hit the pavement, I let out a huge sigh of relief. The fire escape hadn't crumbled and I'd made the descent in one piece. I called it a minor miracle. But any celebration I may have thought of having ended when my phone buzzed in my hand. I looked down and found another text message waiting for me.

  Tick tock, Michelle is waiting for you. Don't let her down.

  As if I needed the reminder. I hustled across the small parking lot, glad that I'd chosen to park in the back the night before – not to mention relieved by the stroke of dumb luck. If I'd parked in my usual spot, I would have had to pass by King and his men to get to my car. But because I'd been lazy and the back lot was closer to my apartmen
t, I'd deposited my car there.

  I slipped the key into the ignition, but before I could turn it, my phone rang. I looked down and saw that it was the same number that I'd been getting text messages from. A feeling of dread, cold and oily, wrapped itself around my insides and squeezed me so tight, I was having trouble breathing.

  I punched the button to connect the call and put the phone to my ear. “Yes?” I fought to keep my voice from trembling – and failed miserably. The last thing I wanted them to know was how terrified I was, but I couldn't help it. I'd never been in a situation like this before. Hell, I'd never even dreamed of being in a situation like this before. My friend's life was on the line and it was up to me to save her. The pressure weighed down on me like a lead weight – a lead weight the size of the Titanic.

  “A – Abbie,” Michelle's voice was strained, her fear coloring her words. “Help me, Abbie.”

  It was like a shard of glass had pierced my heart. My breathing was shallow, ragged, and tears blurred my vision. “I'm coming, Michelle,” I said, trying to sound confident. “I'm going to be there soon. Are you okay?”

  There was a low groan on the other end of the line. “I – I hurt, Abbie. Help me.”

  I opened my mouth to speak again when I heard a rustle on the other end of the phone – which was followed by a heavily accented man's voice.

  “She's depending on you,” he said. “We gave you a way out. You have twenty minutes to get your ass here.”

  And with that, the line went dead. I looked at the phone, trying to will it to come back to life. Trying to will Michelle's voice to come back to me. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I struggled to breathe. I felt like I was on the verge of a panic attack and knew if I gave into it, Michelle was as good as dead.

  “Get a grip on yourself, Abbie,” I said and smacked myself viciously across the face. “Calm the hell down.” I couldn't give in to the hysteria that was threatening to wash over me like a giant wave. If I let that wave come crashing down, it was going to pull me under, pull me down deep. And if I let it, I was going to have to live with the fact that Michelle was dead and it was going to be all my fault.

  “Pull it together,” I screamed and delivered myself another smack across the face.

  My cheek stung where I'd smacked myself and when I looked in the rear view mirror, I saw a bright red hand print. Taking a few deep, calming breaths – that only marginally helped, if at all – I managed to get the car started and pulled out of my spot.

  I gunned the engine as I neared the driveway and sort of squealed out into the street, picking up speed as I drove away, figuring the quicker I moved, the less time I gave myself to stop and think about it. And the last thing I needed in that moment was to stop and think. I simply needed to move. To act. Michelle's life was hanging in the balance and I knew I couldn't afford to give in to my fears.

  The phone buzzed on the seat next to me. Glancing down, I saw it was a call from King. I grabbed it and hit the connect button as I put the phone to my ear.

  “King, listen – ” I started.

  “Are you okay, Abbie?” his voice was frantic. “What's going on? Did somebody take you?”

  “I'm fine, King,” I said. “And if somebody had taken me, do you think they'd allow me to answer my phone?”

  There was an immediate sound of relief in his voice. “Then what is going on, Abbie? Where did you go? I told you to stay in the apartment.”

  I was conflicted. I wanted to tell him but knew I couldn't. But what could I say? He was already on the verge of freaking out and I knew nothing I said was going to be able to calm him down. If anything, I was only going to upset him even more. But I couldn't tell him nothing either.

  “I just had to take care of something, King,” I said.

  “Take care of something? Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, something came up,” I said. “I had to deal with it. It couldn't wait.”

  “Then tell me where you are,” he said. “I'll come to you. You can't be alone out there, Abbie. Especially right now.”

  “Listen, I don't know what is going on with you and all your club business,” I said, “but I've got business of my own to deal with. And I don't need a babysitter to hold my hand the whole way. I'm fine, King. Don't worry about me.”

  “Of course I worry about you!” King exploded. “There is some bad shit going down right now and I can't afford to handle my shit if I'm having to worry about you at the same time.”

  A bolt of anger, bright and searing, knifed through my body. “Then don't worry about me,” I screamed back. “I'm a big girl, King. And I can handle my own shit. So go do whatever it is you have to do and I'll go do what I have to do. I'm fine.”

  I disconnected the call and dropped the phone onto the passenger's seat again. It immediately began to buzz again as King called back. And then again. And then again. I ignored all of his calls and text messages. I had nothing more to say. I needed to do this and I was going to do it. King couldn't help me and he certainly couldn't help Michelle. I was the only one who could fix this situation.

  Pulling over to the side of the road, I grabbed my phone and very deliberately avoided all of the voicemails and text messages that were sitting there waiting for me. Instead, I called up my GPS function and plugged in the address I'd been given. I was relatively sure I knew where I was going, but I couldn't afford to be late, so I thought it best to double check.

  Just as I'd thought. I was heading into the industrial side of town. Thanks to the big economic downturn in the country, that was a part of town filled with old, abandoned buildings and warehouses. There were still a few businesses that were in operation there, but by and large, it was a part of town that was vacant.

  Which made it the perfect place to hold somebody that had been abducted. Hold somebody and then lure somebody else in to save them – like me.

  But what else could I do? I had no choice. I certainly couldn't let them hurt Michelle. With a sigh, I pulled out onto the road and drove on. A few minutes later, I entered the mostly empty streets. Unkempt, derelict buildings loomed large on either side of the street, filling me with a feeling of dread unlike anything I'd ever felt in my life.

  “What the hell have I gotten myself into?” I muttered.

  I turned left at the command of my GPS navigator's voice and drove down an alleyway between two abandoned warehouses. Litter and other assorted debris filled the alley and I had to take care to drive around the jagged shards of glass that were strewn about.

  I'd gotten about three quarters of the way down the alley when two large, rough-looking Hispanic men stepped out of one of the buildings and stood in front of my car. A large roll up door creaked open on my right and they pointed to it. Apparently, I was supposed to drive in there.

  With the icy fingers of fear tearing at my insides, I turned into the warehouse and stopped the car. The roll up door squealed again as they closed it behind me, plunging me into near total darkness.

  “What in the hell have I done?” I whispered.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  KING

  “Goddammit!” I roared and punched the wall beside me.

  “What is it, man?” Drew asked.

  I shook my head, my heart pounding and my head throbbing. As if I didn't already have enough on my plate to deal with.

  “It's fucking Abbie,” I seethed. “She wasn't taken. She just took off.”

  “Took off?” Drew asked. “Why in the fuck would she do that?”

  Taking a couple of deep breaths, I tried to calm down and clear my head. When that failed to do anything, I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a beer, twisted the top off and drank half of it. It managed to take a minuscule portion of the edge off. “She said she had something to take care of,” I said, finally able to lower my voice. “Said it was urgent and had to be done.”

  Drew whistled low and took a seat at the kitchen table. I walked into the living room and looked out at the parking lot below. I'd send El and Duke to handle
things with the cops and firefighters in the parking lot. I figured they were going to have plenty of questions and they weren't going to let me get out of answering them that easily, but I didn't have time to deal with it right then and there. I hoped they'd be satisfied with whatever El and Duke came up with and go on their merry way. I was skeptical, but I hoped.

  “Do you believe her?” Drew asked.

  I shot him a glare and he raised his hands as if to say he didn't mean anything by it. I took another long swallow of the beer and then walked back into the kitchen.

  “All I meant,” Drew clarified, “was do you believe that she was alone in the car and hadn't been taken? Do you believe that she left of her own accord?”

  I shrugged and sighed. “I'm pretty sure she was alone. That she left on her own,” I said. “What made her leave and this mysterious errand that came up though – that's what I'm not too sure about.”