The Runaway Viper (Viper #2)

by Kirsty-Anne Still

  I don’t respond, but smirk at him and his way of always being right. “Does she know you went back?” I ask him suddenly. “Does she know you’re back here with me?”

  He shakes his head. “I didn’t go near the club. After I met with Eli outside New York and he told me, I decided going in would make me a dead man.” The end of the discussion closes in and I feel relief wash over me. Jace makes a point of letting me know he didn’t dare enter the lion’s den. “I couldn’t run the risk.”

  “I’m glad,” I mutter, pleased he had sense. I just wrap my arms around his neck, resting my cheek against his chest, listening to his heart thudding away. His stress levels have it pumping heavily and hard. I know he has a lot to deal with, besides me - he has a company to run, offices now worldwide, and now he has to cope with Clara’s need to get me back.

  I hear commotion in the hallway and it breaks Jace and me apart, but I think nothing of it and just look at Jace. He looks alert and upright by the noise and turns to the door, his body slightly in front of me. It’s an overreaction. We’re in a low rated motel with thin walls. We hear everything and have ran into people less stellar than us. It’s like a halfway house for drunks and junkies. We’re here to hide - they either can’t afford more or live here. But when I hear the shouting getting closer, I start to worry. My palms slicken and I come over all clammy, my leg muscles tighten as if gluing me to my spot. It only worsens as the first kick comes, and I jolt, almost taking a step back. With a second forceful kick, the door weakens and on the third it flies open.

  I see men in balaclavas rush into the room. All three of them set their gazes on me, but I only recognize one set – Sam. I would remember Clara’s lap dog anywhere; his eyes are always burning bright with his sadistic ways. It’s hard to forget the devil’s advocate.

  No one speaks. They just close the door behind them and my heart thuds slowly in my chest. It pounds away, each beat attacking my ribcage. The fear is icy cold as it floods my system and everything Jace and I fought for is no longer worth it. Not if I know how this will play out. I never want him to get hurt, much like he doesn’t want me hurt, but it appears we have no say in this.

  I see them all withdraw a black stick, each flicking it to show an extendable baton. This was more than a little calculated and drafted together. I’ve seen these before. Clara stores one in her office. It’s made of a steel rod. My hold on Jace loosens with realization, and he races forward.

  “Leave her,” Jace fights them, racing to put himself between us. “You won’t have her.”

  They all just laugh. With their black batons by their sides, Jace doesn’t even budge. He protects me profusely, even charging at the smallest one to get them to see he is serious. But it isn’t enough. They’re ruthless and don’t care. I watch in horror as Jace receives a severe blow. He’s overpowered in a matter of minutes, and Sam makes a beeline for me.

  “Jace!” I cry out, tears wrecking my body. I watch as he is brought to his knees by blow after blow. He’s hurt, and I’m not allowed to go to him, I’m not allowed to help. I fight Sam’s hold on me, arching my back and kicking him, trying to shake myself free and dig my nails into him. It doesn’t work. His hold is too strong and steadfast. It’s like I’m cast into a stone hold. “Let me go!” I fight and fight but can feel my own energy levels diminishing. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because we can!” One of the unknown men ceases his kicking to speak to me. The other two just snigger.

  Sam spins me around and throws me against the wall. My body is winded from the impact, but I don’t get a chance to recover as I find both of Sam’s hands circling my throat. I’m pinned to the same wall Jace took me against just days ago, but instead of having life breathed into me, I’m losing it. My hands come up as my oxygen levels deplete, and I find I can’t draw any breath passed the grasp to my neck. I claw at him harder than ever as black dots start to cloud my vision, and my body struggles for freedom. Sam lifts me up, my feet barely touching the floor now, my struggle only putting pressure on my already closed throat. It just causes my nails to dig in furthermore.

  I see a savior in the unknown man who rushes to Sam, pulling him off me. “Remember we ain’t here for her!” One of the men shakes Sam. He tries to pull him away, but Sam won’t relinquish his hold on my neck.

  “I don’t care,” Sam spits angrily, his eyes burning right down to my soul. “I’ve wanted this bitch since she ran.”

  Even in my hazy state, I can tell he’s still smitten for The Boss. He always was. He did everything she wanted with a twist of sadism so she took notice of him more than the other guards. I bet bringing me back – dead or alive – would make him golden in the eyes of Clara Delvine. He’d love to be the man who captured me. It just worries me that they aren’t actually here for me. It makes me fight more. I need to help Jace before it’s too late.

  “That weren’t the orders we were given!” The brute behind fights Sam, He’s not eloquent, nor is he as dark and twisted as Sam, but he has a wildness about him that terrified me. He’s not what I expected if this is Clara’s doing, but she’ll invest in anyone to be on her team no matter what. It’s to do her dirty work; she’ll have anyone without a heart or conscience.

  He lifts me slightly as I begin to pass out and feel myself slammed back into the wall, my head connecting heavily with the wall. I begin to slide down the cold wall, my body crumpling beneath me, and I’m met with the sight of Jace, blooded and beaten. He looks weak as he looks at me. He even makes an attempt to get to me, but he’s hauled back by the collar of his shirt.

  He grunts, calling out to me, but I can’t do a thing. I’m powerless and weakened by Sam’s strangulation and assault. As I fight for consciousness, I see them drag Jace from the room. I strive to open my eyes, to move, to shift, if only slightly, but it’s all so futile. It’s on this cusp of light and dark that everything has intensified clarity. My love for the people in my life multiples, my need for them garners into a necessity and as my fight dies out, I feel the sense that I am a failure.

  I keep fighting to stay awake, but it’s getting harder, until it-all-goes-black.

  Chapter Ten

  I awake to a pounding in my head. I close my eyes to lessen the headache, but immediately they snap open. My eyes look around the room. The door has been closed, as if nothing has happened. Even though the lock is busted, it appears no one’s been in here or suspected a thing.

  A wave of nausea hits me, intensifying the agonizing pain in the back of head, and I feel like I’m detached from my reality. My head lulls back as the splintering pain screams out like a banshee, and I feel my entire body clench at the noise.

  “Jace?” I manage, wondering where he is, calling out for his help. “Jace?” I call again, but this time the name allows my memory to catch with me and the horrid memory takes over. The masked men, those sadistic eyes, the beating, the lack of air – it suddenly all makes sense. My eyes flicker open widely, and I’m met with the grim realization that I’m alone and under threat.

  The signs of our struggle are evident before me and the tears prick along my lashes. I wanted to believe it was all a twisted and warped nightmare cast upon me by stress. Except, my husband has been taken, and I’m the reason for it. But, unlike before, I can’t let the blame capture me and steal me away. I need to think rationally – if this headache will permit it!

  I slowly move myself, tempting my body to defy me. I manage to get onto my knees where I crawl forward all of two steps before my head screams in agony. I pause only to look up, searching for my cell phone. I struggle to clear my vision, as everything keeps swimming and merging into one, but I do notice a bright whiteness to my left.

  I blink hard, begging my vision to be clear when I open them.

  I see a white square with my name upon it. It’s in a handwriting I don’t recognize, but the feeling of my stomach in freefall tells me all I need to know. I’m propelled to grab it, barely making it as I stumble forward. I fall into the furnit
ure, using it for stability. The moment I reach for the envelope I fall and slip down to the floor. My head spins, but I slip my finger underneath the lip on the back of the envelope and I force it open. I shakily pull out its contents and am met with a note and a one way ticket to New York.

  I have something that’s yours. There’s only one way he survives. You know what to do.

  My chest tightens at the thought of going back to her willingly, but for Jace, I will have to admit my fate. Unlike before, there is something I have to do. I have to confide in family, I have to involve them. When Dylan died, I closed off, reigned myself in and didn’t seek help. I allowed grief, shame, and accusations to claim me and lull me into a deep sense of surrealism. This time I won’t do that. Searching for my cell has me dialing a number that I should’ve years ago. For once, I feel like this will get me help.

  “Hey Sweetheart,” his husky tone flies at me and I’m weakened furthermore, but this time I’m in a state of being his daughter, and it breaks me.

  “Dad, I need you,” I breathe and squeeze my eyes closed. “Something’s happened, I need you at the motel.”

  “I’m on my way,” he tells me and disconnects that call. He knows exactly where Jace and I were and why, so I’m thankful to know that within twenty minutes he’ll be here. The fact that he was so quick to react tells me everything I need to know.

  I keep my eyes close, my mind clouding my rationality and awareness. I’m unaware of anything until there’s a knock on the door, and I wake up. I drowsily haul myself off the floor and make my way to the door. I open it and the man before me sends a shiver up my spine. When I called him, I had this idea that he’d clear things up, check me over, and I could do what I need to. My ideology shatters the moment he takes a look at me. His face darkens, his jaw muscles tighten, and his eyes narrow.

  “We’re calling the cops,” my father states. He takes a look around at the state of the room and the aggression begins to radiate from him.

  “No!” I jump to life, my throat hurting at the sudden exertion. “No, no, please, Dad, no!” I beg with him, my voice straining. “The cops can’t do anything. We can’t involve them.”

  “What else do you expect me to do, Lee?” he asks me fiercely. “You call me telling me you need me and I come to find the room trashed and your neck every shade under the sun! You cannot expect me to just sit aside like my daughter hasn’t been attacked.”

  My eyes water. I called him out of desperation and instinct. I didn’t think about the consequence once he was here. Maybe if I had just gone to the bathroom and taken a look at my newest appearance I wouldn’t have called him at all.

  “I’ve been through worse,” I admit calmly. I have tears swimming in my eyes, my vision blurring to one, but I am as composed as I possibly can be. Even as my father’s mind registers the meaning behind my words.

  “What are you wrapped up in, Joely?” he asks me. The demand in his voice rocks me and causes my entire emotional foundation to rock from underneath.

  “Too much.” This time I whimper and sink onto the bed. “I’m contractually bound to Clara, Dad. My way out is to finish my contract. I ran before I could, and she wants me back.” I dare myself to look to him. “Jace is the collateral damage and will always be until I finish my time at the club.”

  “He’s now her leverage to get at you?” My father’s assumption hits the nail directly on the head.

  I nod and sniffle as my head drops forward. “He’ll always be the weakest spot in my life. Since meeting him, I don’t know, it was like we were destined to end up together. He made me feel things that I hadn’t felt in so long. We started something we shouldn’t, and it caught up to us.” I allow the heartfelt tears to fall. The tiny droplets of desolation filtering from my body were a reminder of what was dangerously hanging in the balance. “He loved me enough to save me, Dad, and she knows how affected I am with anything to do with him. He’s the easiest route to me now.”

  “You need to involve the police,” he states, not getting the idea of how well Clara has everything orchestrated.

  I shake my head, the low thrumming exacerbating. “It’s not that easy. She has too much help keeping out of the limelight where authority is concerned. She’s too clever,” I finish and my grief succumbs me. The terror of what’s happened takes a hold of me. I fall heavily into my father’s arms. I close my eyes and find myself beaten and tortured by the sight of Jace’s beating. “If I hadn’t passed out, I could have saved him. I could have stepped in. Instead I let them beat him.”

  “Shh, you were obviously overpowered, Joely, so please don’t talk like that,” he soothes me, and I know he feels like we’re cast back to Dylan’s death. He spent so many nights before I left, consoling me in the midnight hours.

  I gave in to that delectable darkness and missed out on my final moments with Dylan, what if the past was set on repeat? I gave in and closed my eyes that final time and everything changed. I was greedy. When it all became too much to hold on, I released my grasp on reality and caved to the abyss which whispered to me. I allowed the stars that encased my vision to take me away, and I didn’t fight. I told myself to fight, but did I? If I had then I would’ve managed to help Jace even just a little.

  “C’mon, if you won’t go to the police then we’re getting you of here.”

  He leaves me, only to grab every item that is motel property. He puts his hand out to pull me from the room and I just allow him to lead me out emotionlessly. And as I follow my father out to his car, everything suddenly garners momentum and overtakes like the fresh air has become a catalyst for utter inner turmoil within me. I can’t help but wonder why I’ve left it so long. I should be in the airport finding the next flight to New York, not trailing behind my father looking for a sanctuary. If I profess to love my husband, I’d be in New York already.

  My father opens the door for me, but I’m frozen as I stand stock-still. What am I doing? If I go to my family home, I risk Jace’s life. If I go to the club, I risk my own. The latter is a much more survivable and forgivable path.

  With that my brain shuts down my entire body, and I realize I can’t go with my father to exact his plan - my destiny isn’t ready for that.

  “What’s wrong?” my father asks, but I don’t move. “Joely, we need to get your checked over.”

  I shake my head. “Take me to the airport,” I tell my father, to which he abruptly argues back. “There’s nothing anyone can do here. This is all on me now.”

  “You said yourself a few days back how dangerous it is in New York for you,” my father argues, putting up his fatherly demeanor. It’s been so long, I don’t find this threatening anymore. “You really think I’m going to allow you to go back?”

  “I need to go to New York,” I state, grounding my teeth together. “I’ll be back, but there is unfinished business.”

  ***

  It's been decided. I'm not sure when my mind calculated the insanities together to make this bold decision, but I've decided I know what I can do to save face and save the situation.

  I'm going to The Viper Rooms.

  I’m not sure when I came to this point – I’m guessing somewhere between my desolation and the burst of inner strength that rippled from soul. I was sitting on the plane, as cleaned up as possible after my father had fought with me to stay and allow him to sort the grand mess I had caused. When he saw I wasn’t backing down, he gave me the saddest of smiles ever - but gave me one of the most empowering statements he has ever offered me.

  “You’ve become such a beautifully strong woman. Get him back and come back to us.”

  I don’t know what’s to become of my life when I get back to New York, but now I know I have a place to come back to here. I have a home waiting unlike before. Except this time, I have two homes – Florida and Jace.

  I sat on the plane ridiculed by ceaseless thoughts of what I would find when I walked back into New York City. Would I be greeted by one of Clara’s minions ready to drag me back to h
ell or would I be allowed freedom? To be my surprise, I walked out of that airport alone and found myself a hotel room. There I managed to clean myself up, wash away the ambush and really take in the bruises painting my throat like ivy fingers dancing across my paled skin. All of the dramatics are washing me down to a weak and subordinate being, but I know one thing. I know I can use that to my advantage.

  If Clara sees me as a numb, overpowered by love woman, she’ll thrive and dig her claws into me immediately. That’ll be my leverage over her. I’ll make her think I’m so hopelessly in love that my judgement is askew, that Jace is all I can live for. He might be, but I have so much more now to see me through to the end of her reign over me. She doesn’t have any idea what she has cast upon me, what she’s made me feel, and she has absolutely no idea what I am capable of now. Unlike before, I won’t fear rocking the boat and sticking to my morals. This time, I won’t lose myself to her and the life she expects us to lead.

  I’m scared to see what I’ve become in the name of love. I will do this to see him free, I will do this to give us some hope. This feels right. Walking back to The Boss’s clutches feel like something I’m meant to do. I know more this time going in there, I’m not sightless. I've taken the bait, and I'm going to make a deal - him for me. She won't kill me. I'm her property, killing me means she loses what's hers. If I leave Jace there then he dies - he is nothing to her. I don't need anyone telling me. The day Clara whipped me and gave me a heartless ultimatum told me all I needed to know.

  Rolling my shoulders, I give myself one more look in the mirror and run my hands down my sides. They trail over the natural curves of my body, clinging to me perfectly. I want to walk through that club with power and poise. That’s all I will have. Picking up the red lipstick from amongst my makeup, I reapply another layer, before I pucker my lips and place it back down. I ruffle my hair, playing with the curls and declare myself Viper Girl worthy.