by Khloe Wren
“Gonna light the fucking office up. Can’t risk someone finding enough information to start this shit back up again.”
“That paperwork might be the evidence we need to put Sabella away, along with the rest of his crew. Might be the only way to identify the victims.”
Yeah, I wasn’t going to tell her that she didn’t need to worry about Sabella ever again.
“The only one that can’t talk is Josefina Chavez. She was snatched from her parents’ farm in Mexico when she was sixteen, back in 2001. All the others will be able to tell you who they are. I’m not risking that information getting into the wrong hands and this pipeline starting up again.”
She was quiet for a moment. I knew she wasn’t happy, but I also knew she got what I was saying. The world would be a nicer place without this shit in it. “You’ve got about twenty minutes, then I’ll be rolling in with a team. I’m not going to actively come looking for you, and I’ll put through this tip as one given anonymously, but if evidence is found to implicate you and you’re found, you’ll go down for this. Nothing I can do about that. Just like there’ll be others who will be gunning for you. I’d suggest you leave town for a while. In your shoes, I’d be leaving California for good.”
She hung up before I could say another word and I headed back toward Mac to tell him our time limit. Then I headed over to the Charon’s van to get the can of gas. I didn’t waste time getting back inside to that fucking office filled with documentation of all the evil deeds Sabella had processed through the place. With my nose pressed against my shoulder to curb the smell, I poured gas around the office. There was a shit ton of paperwork in here and I didn’t want to risk the wrong people getting any of it and working out how to import more women and kids from across the border. Not that everyone we’d found here was Mexican. Plenty of locals had been caught up in this mess too.
Josefina’s face filled my vision as I poured and my hand slipped, splashing the flammable liquid over it and up my wrist, along with down my side.
“Fuck.”
Tossing the can aside, I shook the liquid off my hand before wiping it on my jeans. Then I pulled an old-school book of matches from my pocket and struck one. Watching the flame burn, I let it mesmerize me for a few moments before I flicked it toward the desk. All the gas I’d poured around the room couldn’t wait to light up and I quickly realized I’d used way too much. The overkill had been intentional, I hadn’t wanted anything in here to be left unburned. I just hadn’t fully thought the plan through.
A spark came my way and out of reflex, I attempted to bat it away, forgetting about my fuel-soaked skin and clothing.
“Motherfucker!”
I backpeddled from the room, turning my head away from my side that now had flames licking up it. Pain lit me up faster than the fire.
“Fuck.”
I’d barely heard Mac’s curse before he’d thrown a blanket over me and knocked me to the ground, rolling me until the flames were out.
Agony stole my vision, my ability to think. I was vaguely aware of Mac tossing me over his shoulder before he took off. Each step jolted my burns and more pain shot through me. By the time he laid me out on the seats in the rear of the van, I was clenching my jaw so I didn’t throw up from the intensity of my agony.
“We’ll get you taken care of, brother.”
I gave him a jerky nod, hoping he didn’t ask me anything else. I didn’t want to fucking talk. My mind was still shorting out due to the fucking pain. I’d never felt anything like it.
Bright lights streamed in the windows and the door slid open to reveal they’d brought me to a hospital. At least with all the wildfires currently burning throughout southern California, we shouldn’t get too many questions about how I’d gotten injured.
“No way to do this without it hurting, Blade.”
I unlocked my jaw. “Just do it already.”
With any luck, I’d black the fuck out and wouldn’t feel any more pain.
It was all a blur as I was taken into the ER and hooked up to a drip. I let Mac do the talking as I stared up at ceiling. But it wasn’t aging sheetrock that I saw. It was Josefina. Her battered face and body, her hollow eyes.
“He was right. I died years ago. Nothing left now.”
For seventeen years, Sabella had been using and abusing her. I doubted I could imagine the torture he’d inflicted upon her. That poor girl. She’d never done a thing to deserve it. Her parents had been poor farmers who’d been unfortunate enough to have been blessed with a beautiful daughter.
That had me thinking of my own parents. My mother had been wonderful, but she’d been limited by the ruthless bastard she’d married. I’d gotten her free of him, though. It had taken time, but I’d managed to get my mother and brother away from my brute of a father. Then I’d taken care of my old man once and for all. Just like Sabella, I’d done it on the sly, so no one had known it was me. And also like Sabella, that bastard had died hard, but not hard enough for what he’d done to those he was meant to have loved and cherished.
I’d never understood how my old man could have done it. Sold his child, his first born son, to the mob. He’d run a small jewelry store and hadn’t wanted to pay the protection fee, so instead, he’d bartered for it by giving me to Sabella. Even at sixteen I’d been a big kid, strong and stubborn. So Sabella had been more than happy to take me, especially when he’d overheard my father’s threat against my mother and brother should I not follow orders. He’d known he could do what he pleased with me then, mold me into who he needed me to be. Pity for him that his plan backfired on him.
I hissed in pain as the doctor examined a particularly sore burn.
“Hmm, yes, definitely an area of third degree but mostly first and second degree. I’ll get the nurse in here to tend to them. She’ll tell you what you need to know about taking care of them.”
The look on this guy’s face and the way he curled his lip as he pulled his gloves off and tossed them in the bin basically told me he considered me no better than dirt beneath his shoe and clearly not worth his time. That shit pissed me right off. Considering the edge I was still on after what went down, it was probably a good thing Mac had stripped my gun off me before he’d brought me in. And was sitting beside me to run interference.
Despite wanting to teach this guy a fucking lesson, I managed to force myself to stay quiet. It helped that I wanted him to fuck off away from me more than I wanted to pound him into the ground.
He stepped away from my bed and shoving the curtain open, flagged down a nurse like she was a cab. What the fuck was this guy’s issue? The nurse had a neutral, professional expression that said she didn’t like the prick any more than I did. Their conversation was quick and I was certain I caught her sighing with relief when he stepped away from her and she came into my little slice of the ER.
“He an asshole to everyone or are we just special?”
She snorted a laugh. “Dr. Maestro? He treats everyone equally, that one. Unless you have money pouring off you.”
Mac shook his head, pulling my attention to where he sat beside my bed. He’d been so quiet, I’d nearly forgotten he was there. He was still giving me a strange look, as though he was waiting for me to do something stupid.
“So, ma’am, what’s the damage and what do we need to do to keep him healthy?”
She gave Mac a smile. “Please, call me Lilly.” She turned to face me, rolling a cart with bandages and shit with her.
“You were quite lucky, Mr. Walker. Your thick jeans saved your legs from receiving more serious burns, and your friend’s quick thinking with the blanket quite possibly saved your arm, if not your life.”
Mac cleared his throat as he shuffled around in the hard seat, like he was uncomfortable with the praise. I switched my attention back to the nurse, Lilly, but struggled to track what she was saying. I was still in enough pain that it was hard to focus for long, and after her earlier words, I found myself staring at the blistered skin of my arm, thinking about
what would have happened if Mac hadn’t come to my rescue when he had. Could I really have lost my arm in that fire? Or even my life?
Spilling that gas had been an accident. Yeah, losing Josefina in such a horrific way had cut me to the core. And it was going to take me some time to wrap my head around it all. I was probably going to be seeing her battered body in my nightmares for years. I knew what Mac was thinking, that it wasn’t an accident. But at no point today did I want to join her in death, and especially not by fire. If I was going to end things, I’d find something faster and less painful than fucking burning to death.
Blade
No matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t get to her. I reached out to grab her, to pull her free of the torment, but she stayed out of reach.
Antonio stood over her writhing, battered body, laughing at me trying to reach her.
“She was never yours, boy. She was a test that you failed. It’s your fault.” He spread his hands out, indicating Josefina’s body, covered with bleeding welts and bruises. “This is all your fault.”
“No! Release her!”
I screamed out as he continued to chant the words, “It’s all your fault”.
“Blade! Wake up, man.”
The horrific images and the sound of Antonio’s voice faded at the intrusion of Mac’s deep voice.
I went to rub my face, but stopped with a wince when my fingers touched a tender part of my cheek that had caught a lick of the flames yesterday.
Blinking the last traces of the nightmare from my mind, I looked up at Mac’s expression. He looked serious, like he was on a mission.
“What’s going on?”
“We got a lot to discuss, and not a whole lot of time at the moment to do it, so I’m gonna keep it brief. I’m not comfortable leaving you alone right now. I don’t like where your head’s at after yesterday. I wish I could offer to stay here with you, but that’s a no go. Got word from home last night that my baby girl’s been in the hospital. I need to get home to my family and I want you to come with us.”
I winced and turned from him, staring up at the water stains on the ceiling. Once he and the other Charons left, I’d be alone. I knew I had to disappear after what had happened yesterday. I didn’t know what Sabella’s remaining men would do with his disappearance. I had no clue who knew he was coming to meet me other than those we’d killed already. But like Officer Lopez told me, I needed to leave town. But I wasn’t a fucking moron. I knew it was highly likely fallout from putting Sabella in the ground was going to find me no matter where I went. Did I want to bring that down on the Charon MC? Especially on Mac and his family? He’d just reminded me of the fact he had a wife and baby. It wouldn’t be fair to risk them. Not for me. I wasn’t worth it.
“I ain’t one of you, Mac. I don’t belong—”
“Bull fucking shit, Blade! You belong. You’ve helped out the Charons more than once. I have Scout’s blessing to bring you back to Bridgewater. He told me it was up to you if you wanted to join the club, but even if you don’t, you’re welcome in our town. My old lady told me last night to bring you home so we could look after you.”
I turned to look him in the eye to gauge if he was speaking the truth. Had Scout, the Charon MC president, really given his blessing to have me in his town? He would know the risk I posed to his club and everyone around him simply by my presence in their vicinity. And Mac had asked his old lady, his wife, if she was okay with having me in their home, of all places? That, I couldn’t do. I couldn’t put Mac’s wife and baby at that much risk.
Mac continued speaking. “You’re not alone, brother. Let us help you. Once your burns heal up, we’ll revisit where you want to live going forward. If you want to come back here, you can. If you don’t, we’ll help you move all your shit to Bridgewater.”
I stayed silent for a few more moments as I absorbed what Mac appeared to be offering me. It seemed too good to be true. And I’d learned the hard way, more than once, that things that seemed that way generally were.
“What’s up with your kid?”
“Allergic reaction to amoxicillin. Zara got her to a hospital in time so she’ll be fine, but I wanna get back home to them to see for myself.”
I winced. No wonder he was all business about getting back home. Before I could say another word, the young club prospect, Jazz, came thundering through the trailer like his ass was on fire.
“We got a problem, Mac. A big, fucking problem.”
Mac reached for his gun and I forced my body to sit up, spinning my legs over the side of the bed. If trouble had arrived, I wasn’t going to get caught with nothing but my dick in my hand.
“Spill it, Jazz. What the fuck’s going on?”
The prospect eyed Mac prepping his weapon for use as he moved toward the bedroom door.
“Nothing that needs a gun. At least I hope that’s not the route we’re taking…”
Their voices faded slightly as they moved out of the room, but the trailer was small and had thin walls, so I could still hear them as I gritted my teeth and stood. I kept the string of curses at the pain that flared through my right side in my head silent. The nurse had given me some hardcore painkillers to take last night and they’d knocked me out all night, but this morning they’d worn off completely and I was hurting like a son of a bitch.
“Jazz. Cut the shit. What is the problem?”
“We got a stowaway. That teenager from the warehouse—the one you gave your shirt to—well, she’s asleep in the back of the van.”
“She still sleeping?”
“Yeah. I saw her through the window as I was about to open things up. Figured I’d get you before I risked waking her.”
Ah, fuck. There’d only been one teen in that fucked up place. The one who had demanded a weapon to protect the other kids when we had to lock them back in their filthy room. She’d had a look in her eye that had reminded me of Josefina, of myself. The look of a fighter who’d been tested to the extreme, but was still there and still ready to go another round or two.
Unsure what Mac would do with her, I ignored my pain and dressed before heading outside with everyone else.
“Open it up, Jazz. Let’s get this dealt with.”
Jazz swung the door open, and with a jerk, the girl tried to hide under the pile of blankets that she’d clearly used as cover last night.
“We know you’re there, darlin’.”
Silently, she ran her gaze over each of us before settling it back on Mac’s face.
“Please. Don’t send me back.”
My spine stiffened. I might not know what Mac was going to do, but I was one hundred fucking percent sure what he wouldn’t do. No way would any man here see anyone, let alone a child, return to a shit-hole like the one we’d pulled her out of yesterday.
The bite to Mac’s voice confirmed he was equally insulted the kid would think he would do such a thing. “I’d never send anyone back to a place like that. We busted that shit wide open and burned it to the ground so no one could ever be sent back there.”
She shook her head. “Not the warehouse, to the cops.”
That had me frowning. What the fuck was going on that she was just as scared of the police as she was of the mob who’d put her in that warehouse?
Keeping control over the situation, Mac nodded his head toward the trailer. “How about you come on inside? Get cleaned up and get something to eat, then we’ll discuss what the next step here is gonna be.”
Bank cleared his throat, drawing all the attention his way.
“I’ll head down to Walmart and grab her something to change into and some other stuff she’ll need.”
Mac nodded his way. “Good idea. Thanks, brother. What size are you, darlin’?”
She rattled off her digits and Bank gave her a nod. “I’ve got you covered, honey. Got a baby sister who’s probably about your age.”
With that, Bank headed to his bike and took off. Mac offered his palm to the girl.
“C’mon, kid. Let’s get yo
u inside and more comfortable.”
I couldn’t help but be impressed with how seamlessly the club handled shit. A teen stowaway wasn’t on any of our agendas but they just rolled with it. Bank stepped up to get her supplies, Mac took control of the situation, lifting her easily into his strong arms when her knees buckled beneath her. Then he got her safely inside and in to the bathroom where she could clean up. By the state she was in, I’d hazard a guess it had been a good, long while since she’d seen a hot shower.
Images of Josefina when I’d first found her flashed through my mind. The men who’d first kidnapped her had already used her before they’d sold her to Sabella. Fuckers had called it training. In reality it had been nothing more than a horrific series of gang rapes. Then Sabella had simply dumped her on the street for me to find after he’d sampled the goods. What was left of her clothing wasn’t much. Just like this teen, Josefina had had scabbed knuckles to go with her bruised and battered body. At sixteen, she’d tried to fight off grown men who were clearly much stronger and bigger than she’d been. She hadn’t been able to save herself, but she’d valiantly tried. My heart tore open as I wondered how many years it had taken Sabella to break her spirit enough that she’d stopped fighting. I doubted she could have kept it up for seventeen fucking years.
After the teen closed herself in the bathroom, Mac moved to the table and I joined the others to sit around him.
“Yesterday I asked her if her mom was in the warehouse. She told me straight out she didn’t give a fuck if she was, because that bitch was the one who’d sold her to Sabella to pay off a drug debt. Just now she told me her dad would kill her before he’d take her into his home. I saw the shudder run through her at the thought of her old man. What the fuck, brothers? I don’t understand how parents can do that.”
I clenched my teeth so hard I heard my jaw crack. This kid was tearing what remained of my soul to shreds. I knew just how she felt. How Mac felt. And even all these years later, I couldn’t answer his question. Why would parents sell their child for monetary gain? I had no fucking clue. If I were ever lucky enough to be blessed with kids, I’d make sure they knew they were loved. Make sure they were protected at all times. I looked to the bathroom door, but it wasn’t the trailer’s shitty walls I saw. Nope, it was my childhood home. A nice house in the ‘burbs. My dad dragging me down the stairs toward the front door. I could have broken free, but the bastard was busy telling me all the ways he’d hurt my mother and little brother if I so much as spoke out of turn where I was going.
