“Don’t make this about your fucking brother, Ruby! I’ve done my fair share of digging. Grim is active as hell on social media, talking about a baby on the way, shares photos of his girlfriend and her three little girls. So please, don’t make this about your damn brother. Stop bullshitting me and tell me what’s going on!”
My hands shake at her sudden outburst. Though I know it’s warranted, I’m dreading telling her what happened. In all honesty, I never wanted to tell her. I wanted to avoid it because I don’t want people to look at me like some charity case, like some victim. It’s bad enough that I needed to tell my brothers and Zorro, but I know I can’t keep lying to those I care about the most.
“Fine, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise me something. Promise me you won’t bring it up again. Promise me this will be all I say one time and then we’re done, and promise me, on your life, that you won’t ever look at me differently.”
Concern washes over Portia’s face as sincerity leaves her lips. “I promise.”
“The night of the party, I . . . I’m sure Ian told you I ran off after that guy smacked my ass. I needed some air, so I ran out of the frat house and decided to cut through the park. Only when I did, I quickly found out I wasn’t alone. I was . . . I was attacked, Portia.” I shut my eyes for a moment, but as flashbacks come flooding to my mind, I quickly open them again. “I was sexually assaulted and beaten on our college campus, so no, I don’t want to come back. What I want is to finish off my school online and put that day behind me.”
Portia brings her hand up to her mouth in shock as she gasps and I don’t miss the way tears begin to well in her eyes. “W-why wouldn’t you t-tell me something like that?!”
“I didn’t want you to look at me differently.”
“Bullshit, Ruby! That’s such fucking bullshit! You know I’m always going to be here for you. We’ve been through some of the worst shit together.”
Shaking my head, I wrap my arms around myself. “Look, I don’t expect you to understand it . . . but I . . . I was having a really hard time with it all and I didn’t know how to cope with it. I just—” my words are cut off by the sounds of gunshots breaking out and I don’t think. I only react, grab Portia’s hand, and rush behind Zane’s house. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know better than to run toward the gunfire.
Chapter Six
If I told you about the darkness inside of me would you still look at me like I’m the sun?
~ Unknown
Zorro
Mid-January . . .
It happens quicker than I can keep up with, but the next thing I know I’m yanking Octavia behind the stairwell. Ashley has her hand wrapped around Noelle’s arm and she’s clenching Fist to her chest, trying to muffle his cries. Noelle’s body shakes violently, so young she doesn’t understand what’s going on, but she’s not naïve. She knows this can’t be good.
I look to Octavia, with Neo in her left arm. His eyes are widened just like Noelle’s, god dammit. I pull my extra gun from my hip holster and hand it to Octavia. “Zane said you know how to use this, right?”
She nods. “Y-yes.”
“Good. Anyone comes near you that isn’t part of the club, you shoot them. Got it?”
“I . . .” Octavia stutters.
“She’s got it. We’ll be fine,” Ashley answers for Octavia, and Octavia nods to her sister-in-law. Meanwhile, I pull out my revolver that’s on my alternate hip. This is why I love revolvers, the only thing you have to do is pull the damn trigger.
“Where the fuck is Boomer!?” Zane’s voice echoes throughout the club like a caged lion.
“You two stay here, you don’t try to be slick and get out. The safest thing you can do is stay here,” I tell them my thoughts as they come to mind, and hand Ashley my hunting knife. It’s sharp as fuck and I know the woman won’t hesitate to cut anyone down in her way, especially when her children are here.
Turning the corner, I rush through the main part of the club and skid on the other side of the couch. Gunshots ring out in the background and I know this means we have an all-out war with the Corrupt Kings MC.
“No idea, Prez!” Dracus calls out from a few feet away.
“Looks like a few of ‘em got away,” Tex pipes up as the gunshots slowly settle down. I peer up from behind the couch with my gun ready, prepared to take anyone down who might still be lingering and see Tex is behind the window, peering through the curtains.
“God, fuck,” a gurgled voice calls out.
Frost comes into view, fully standing, so I decide to stand and make my way around the club, assessing the damage. Only, I don’t get to do that. My eyes immediately drift to four bodies on the floor, directly in front of the clubhouse door.
Frost pulls out her gun and glances back. “Zane, you should come over here. We’ve got a live one.”
Zane makes his way over to where Frost is and I follow suit. Shit, this isn’t just anyone from Boomer’s club. He left his fucking VP behind. The other three bodies must’ve been used by Boomer and the few who got away as human shields.
“Dracus, Bolt, get over here and watch Gears,” Zane orders, just as an agonizing cry comes from my left.
“Fuck, I need my medical bag. Now!” Cheyenne’s cry ripples through the club. She sounds desperate and afraid.
“Stiletto, Siren, go get that shit from Chey’s place,” Zane commands two of the prospects and they go rushing out the front door of the club. “The rest of you secure the perimeter. And tell me who’s at the fucking gate, will you? We need someone at the fucking gate, and this is exactly why!” Damn, he’s pissed.
Hammer comes up beside me and before I know it Zane is marching over to us. “I need you both to check on the women and kids.”
I nod. “You got it, Prez. Hammer, get everyone to the bunker and text me with a headcount. I’ll head around the club and buildings to find any stragglers and get them down there.”
Zane grabs my shoulder. “Octavia and Neo, have you seen—”
I wouldn’t normally interrupt my Prez, but now is one of those times where I need to. “They’re safe. She’s behind the stairwell, Ashley and the kids too,” I say the last bit and look over to Blackjack who has a panic-stricken look crossing his face. He breathes a little easier and gives me a nod of thanks.
Stiletto rushes back in with Chey’s medical bag and darts right over to her, offering a helping hand where she can.
Hammer goes off and heads behind the stairwell where I said Ashley and Octavia just were, and I watch as he leads them down to the bunker’s entrance. Thank god we have one. In situations like these it’s super important.
I head over to the Vixen’s place first, figuring they heard the gunshots and immediately went into protection mode.
Sassy and Drita are the first two I see when I walk in through the door, both holding wooden spoons from the kitchen as a weapon. I almost want to laugh, but I know now isn’t the time. “Get the rest of the girls, you’re going in the bunker until we make sure everyone’s safe and there aren’t any trespassers on the property,” I tell them, immediately they get up and tell the others to run downstairs. In a matter of minutes, they’re all downstairs and I take them into the basement, move the bookshelf that hides one of the tunnels that leads into the bunker and escort them through it.
Once we arrive at the metal door, I knock and a green light begins to flash. It’s the video stream Zane had installed not too long ago. He didn’t want us to ever have a situation where we didn’t know who was on the other side of the doors. The door comes open and the women file in one by one.
“Who are we missing?” I question Hammer, who turns back and looks at the room.
“Ruby, Shiloh, and . . . Rosa what did you say that girl’s name was?” Hammer questions.
“Cle . . . Portia I think? Sorry, I’m a bit frazzled. I saw Ruby taking her friend out for a walk before the gunfire rang out. They looked like they were headed down the lane that leads to Ashley and Blackjack’s pla
ce.”
I nod, turn on my heel and get ready to go find Rub’, but Hammer grabs onto my shoulder with a serious look on his face. “Please, find Shiloh.”
Hammer hasn’t claimed her publicly, but they’ve been spending a lot of time together for the last couple months. Shiloh used to be a clubwhore, one that Axel, Grim, and myself shared . . . until she up and told us she didn’t want to do it anymore. Not that I can blame her, I guess all good things have to come to an end sometimes.
“I’ll find her,” I tell him, hopeful I’m not lyin’ to the man who obviously has feelings about her.
Who knows if Shiloh will ever return the favor, though? I was never one to figure out what was goin’ on in that mind of hers, but I do know she’s one hell of a wildcard. Then again, when have women ever been predictable?
Chapter Seven
You are the very thing I was made to believe was not possible
~ Ruby
Ruby
Mid-January . . .
Portia’s eyes widen and her hands shake. “Is . . . is that normal or—”
“It’s not,” I immediately cut her off as my heart beats so loud I can barely think. God, as hard as I try the thoughts aren’t coming to my mind. What am I supposed to do? Where am I supposed to go? I’m sure the club has plans for stuff like this, but I never even thought to ask about them. Dammit, why didn’t I?
“Oh fuck, well this isn’t good,” Portia mutters under her breath. I want to mutter something snarky in response, but now isn’t the time, not after everything I’ve put her through by making her worry so much.
Looking around, I realize we’re close to the back of Zane’s house. Knowing him, he hasn’t locked his back door. I tug Portia along with me and motion with a finger in front of my lips for her to stay quiet. She nods in agreement and sticks close behind me while we make our way up the white, wooden steps.
Placing my hand on the storm door, I pull it open and then push his wooden door open. Thankfully it budges and he hasn’t locked it. Now, while I don’t know much about what to do in situations like this, at least I’m smart enough to stay away from the gunfire and try to find a safe place to hunker down.
Sweat beads on my forehead as we cut through the kitchen and dart up the stairwell. As we come up, I see a shadow at the top and instantly fear washes over me in more ways than one. My throat becomes tighter and sweat doesn’t only form on my head, but now on my palms too.
Out of nowhere a dark, sadistic chuckle passes through the walls. “Come here, darlin’. You look too sweet for me to let go.”
“Fuck off, asshole! She’s not yours,” Shiloh’s voice echoes through the halls, growing closer with every word.
“The gunshots say otherwise. It’s open season now, darlin’, and I might just have to keep you around for a while,” he tells her and then something crashing against the wall fills my ears. It sounded like glass, or maybe even a vase.
“Shiloh!” Sydney screams her name and comes running down the stairwell, completely bypassing us.
“Dammit, come back here!” the man calls out after Sydney. He reaches the top of the stairwell and comes to a complete stop as his eyes land on us. He appears to be thrilled, smiling like he just won the jackpot, but in that moment of bliss Shiloh shoves her body weight into him and he goes crashing over the stairwell.
His body slams down onto the coffee table in the living room below, and through the center of his stomach is the clear quartz crystal Octavia convinced Zane they needed in their house.
“It looks like the crystal works,” Shiloh mutters in disbelief, catching her breath as she leans over the railing.
“Holy fuck!” Portia drops down to a step with a hand on her chest, breathing in and out over and over. She’s fucking hyperventilating.
“Relax, Portia. Everything is good. We’re safe,” I tell her, placing a hand on her shoulder while I look in her eyes.
“Syd’ you good?” Shiloh hollers through the house to make sure Sydney is fine.
“I’d be better if some crazed lunatic wasn’t chasing after me!” she replies with a shaky voice, but I can’t even blame her. I’d be a little flustered myself. The girl is about sixteen, or so. She runs her hand back through her long, wavy, chocolate brown locks in disbelief. It appears like we’ve all had one hell of a day, and I think it’s maybe been ten minutes since Portia arrived. At the rate we’re going, I won’t survive through the night.
The front door to Zane’s house comes flying open and I don’t even think—I react. Grabbing the picture frame off the wall beside me I chuck it at whoever’s trying to come inside, but I quickly realize I don’t have anything else I can use as a weapon. Fuck!
“The fuck was that?!” Zorro raises his brows, looking down to the floor, and relief settles in my stomach. “A picture frame? You threw a fucking photo at me?!”
“I thought you were one of them!” I point to the guy bleeding out on Zane’s coffee table with a cleansing stone through the center of his abdomen. Heck, Octavia got it for Zane for Christmas saying he needed something to help ward off evil spirits and negative energy, and considering her mom is a hippie type of chick, it seemed normal. He called it gaudy and useless, and Octavia went around the club telling the ladies how she was putting the gaudy, useless thing in the middle of their living room so he could look at it every day.
Zorro looks at the guy, then around the living room and stair area, then back down to him. “How exactly did this happen?”
“The motherfucker was trying to catch me like a special rabbit and take me back to his club, so I ran like hell, obviously, and his idiot ass chased after me. Ruby and this blondie were on the stairs, which none of us knew, and he got confused or whatever I guess, and then boom, Shiloh rammed into him like a bull! And then, well, you can see how gravity works.”
Zorro closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I want to comment on how screwed up the shit you just said was, but, I don’t have the patience to deal with you right now Syd’, and if Zane hears you talkin’ like that he’s gonna lose his shit. Now c’mon, I need to get you all to the bunker.”
“My dad won’t give a flying crappola. I hear you guys talk all the time anyway. It’s not like my precious innocence will ever be saved,” Sydney quips, causing Zorro to groan and wave his arm over, motioning for us to follow him.
Chapter Eight
You were always mine. I just had to find you
~ R. H. Sin
Zorro
Mid-January . . .
“Where are we going?” the blonde chick on Ruby’s tail asks, almost sounding aggravated.
I turn back her way for a split second. “Wherever I tell you if you wanna keep your ass alive. Is that clear?”
Her eyes widen in surprise and I can tell I’ve made this chick not like me, but I don’t give a shit. Even if she is one of Ruby’s friends, they don’t gotta like me, they just gotta respect me.
“My uncle Z here is taking us to the bunker. It’s where all the fair maidens go in times of battle,” Sydney tells her with the utmost sass, almost making me stifle a chuckle.
“This dude is your uncle?” the blondie responds hastily, proving how much she doesn’t like me.
“Yeah, what’s it to you?” Sydney shoots back the same sass she must’ve known was directed at me. “All of the guys here are my uncles. They’ve watched out for me my entire life.”
“So, you’re not related?” blondie questions her.
“No, but we don’t have to be to be family.”
The blondie chuckles lightly, and I’m sure there’s a bitchy looking expression plastered across her face . . . but I don’t dare look back. If I do, I’ll lose my fucking shit. This bitch behind me can be shitty to me if she wants. Hell, she can be shitty to any of the brothers, but she can’t be shitty to Syd. The girl’s off limits after everything she’s been through in her short almost sixteen years.
Making our way across the day’s old snow, we cut across the field and head back to the
clubhouse. The sooner I get these ladies into the bunker, the better.
“You know, I expected some sort of response from you, since you’re sassy and all,” Sydney pipes up. She’s never been the type of person to understand when to drop a conversation, always needing to have the last word. Reminds me of Fist in a lot of ways, and I’m sure it’s something she picked up from him.
“About what?” the woman asks her as we make our way in the clubhouse doors. We pass a few of the guys and I see they have Gears hoisted up on a chair, tied down with copious amounts of duct tape.
“Z being my uncle,” Sydney responds.
“The entire point of being family is sharing blood, kid. It’s cute you think you have family here, but don’t let them fool you. Everyone in life disappoints you after a certain point, even if you do believe they’re family.”
“Shiloh, can you take Sydney and Rub’ down to the bunker?” I ask, about ready to snap this blonde bitch’s neck. Shiloh knows me well enough to know I’m furious, so she loops her arms through both Sydney’s and Ruby’s and gets out of sight as quickly as she can.
“Look, I don’t know who the fuck you are thinking you can come into our home and say that type of shit, but we don’t let anyone talk to any of us that way. Especially not some stuck-up rich bitch,” I hiss, looking down at her Michael Kors winter jacket. Money radiates off her and it’s obvious as fuck.
She squints her nose up in disgust. “If you’re pissed at me for telling the kid what she needed to hear, don’t bother. You should be thanking me. It’s better someone prepares her for how rough life can be instead of lying about it.”
I blink at her a few times while her idiotic words fully set in. If she were a man, I’d wrap a hand around her throat and body slam her through one of the pool tables. “That little girl has survived more shit than you know. Her biological father was killed by a rival club and his head was left outside our gate in a box, like a fuckin’ present. Then her mom was burned alive by the same rival club. After that she lived with our Prez at the time, Fist, who was dating her mother and raised the girl after her father died. But he wasn’t the same after his woman died. He tried everything he could to get to her. Hell, we all did, but the screams of someone being burned alive will never leave our memories. He went into a depression and could barely function, so she went off to his daughter, Ashley’s, who’s the VP’s wife. And during that time, he literally stepped in front of a psychopath who was targeting one of the women here. He had a blade shoved through his heart so one of our men didn’t ever have to feel the same pain he did. So get off your fucking high as shit horse and remember the place you’re in, and hopefully by the time I’m done wasting my breath on you you’ll understand why that little girl doesn’t need to see anymore cruelty in the world, because it’s a fucking blessing she survived it this much!” I don’t realize it, but by the end of my speech I’m literally screaming in her face, like a drill sergeant in cadet training.
Zorro (Reapers MC Book 16) Page 5
