Hurricane

by Laramie Briscoe

  My cell is on the table and I grab it, and with shaking hands, I call my dad. If anyone knows what’s going on, it’s him. He’ll tell me where I need to go, what I need to do, and if I need any help.

  “Tate,” he answers, his voice gruff with worry. “I heard power’s out your way. How are you? We got the generators on here. Been waiting on you to call me. Are you okay?”

  “No power and freezing.” My teeth chatter as I move around my bedroom, grabbing clothes to wear. Remy’s hoodie taunts me, but it’s the one of the warmest things in this bedroom, and right now I need to feel close to him. It still smells like his cologne and that familiarity is welcome in this situation.

  “Drew and I will come and get you, stay put.” His voice booms over the phone line. I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful to hear him speak with the authority he uses to handle all situations.

  “I’m gonna go get in my SUV, at least then I’ll have heat.” I can see my breath as I speak, putting on fleece-lined leggings and my fuzzy boots.

  “You do that, we’ll be there ASAP.”

  Grabbing everything I can to put on and a bag in case I have to be there for a few days, I carefully make my way out of my apartment. Opening the door, I’m greeted by what feels like a wall of cold air. Everything is coated in a bright, shiny layer of ice. Tree limbs hang low around the area, what grass is left is crunchy, and everything has a brilliant sheen to it. The sun is shining brightly, making me wish I had my sunglasses. When I take a step, I squeal and slip on the slick sidewalk. Reaching out, I brace my hand against the brick wall, holding myself up as I catch my breath. With amazing luck, I don’t fall on my ass as I finish making my way to my Tahoe. Grabbing onto the back of it, I hold on as I make my way around to the driver’s side, holding on tightly to the door handle before I carefully open it, and get in. My SUV is backed in, and it allows me to watch the comings and goings as I wait for the heat to kick on and come up to temperature. A loud muffler pulling into the parking lot causes me to look at who’s entering. A shiver runs down my spine, goose bumps breaking out along my arms, even though I’m warming up.

  A loud truck creeps around the parking lot. I’m ninety percent sure this is Remy’s parents, but for some reason I can’t remember what color the vehicle had been. One thing I do remember, though, is the license plate. Once I memorize something with numbers, I don’t easily forget it. As it makes a second lap, it allows me to see the license plate.

  My eyes hone in on the letters and numbers printed on the piece of metal. My heartrate kicks up as I realize it’s them. I have no idea why they’re here, what they want with me, and what they hope to accomplish.

  However, something tells me I don’t want to stick around and find out. Cranking the defroster on, I hope like hell it takes care of the layer of ice covering the windshield. I have a feeling I’m going to have to leave before my dad and brother get here, and while it scares me, I know I’m being proactive. Remy’s parents being here isn’t a coincidence, and I’m not willing to be a sitting duck for people who threaten my happiness. If they want me, they can come after me.

  My eyes don’t leave Remy’s parents as I watch them park and then walk around my apartment building. I know without a doubt they’re here for me, but I’m not entirely sure what they want.

  Just as the ice on my windshield starts to break, I watch in my rearview as they get to the door that leads to my part of the building. When they try to open it and realize they need a code, they turn back to where I’m sitting, spotting me. Something about the way George looks at me tells me I need to get the hell out of here.

  As quickly as possible, I pull out of my parking space and connect my phone to the Bluetooth. I don’t want to act like there’s a problem when there’s not, so I go about my business, exiting my neighborhood, and driving to my parents’ house.

  George and Janet get behind me, driving faster than I would have dared. When I take a few turns that aren’t required, and they take them as well, I know they’re following me.

  I instruct the Bluetooth to make a call for me to Travis Steele. When he picks up on the first ring, I thank the heavens.

  “What in the fuck are you doing, Tatum? Liam and Drew are on their way.” His voice is panicked.

  “I know,” I answer, white-knuckling the steering wheel, my voice just as panicked. “Remy’s parents showed up at my apartment, and now they’re following me.”

  “Where are you? The GPS system isn’t precise on your car.”

  “Louisville Road in front of the Sonic, about to turn onto Porter Pike. Shouldn’t I intersect Dad and Drew?”

  “Your Dad went around the back way, just in case. Drew and Remy are heading toward you, but there’s been a wreck out here, and it’s had traffic backed up.”

  My heart stutters as I hear Remy’s with my brother. Maybe he’s willing to give us more of a shot after all. Maybe he’s willing to admit we mean more to each other than just a couple of fun nights.

  “Okay, I’m trying to stay on the road, Travis, but I don’t have a lot of experience with this, and it’s very slick.”

  “Be careful,” he warns me. “Whatever you do, don’t hit the brake. If you have to stop, put it in neutral and let the vehicle slow before you apply the brake.”

  “They’re gaining on me in the curves.” I glance at them in my rearview mirror.

  “Are they trying to bump you?”

  “I think so.”

  My heart is in my throat as I see George behind me, can feel him gaining on me. When I feel the tap, I know I have no prayer of hanging onto the SUV, and all I can do is hope I don’t get hurt as I hit the ditch and the SUV rolls.

  It feels as if it rolls forever, each time it flips, I feel the impact, gnashing my teeth together. The airbags deploy, and I thank God when finally it comes to a stop. I take stock of myself and notice nothing hurts horribly, nothing feels broken. More than anything, I’m pissed. “Steele?” I question, but when there’s no answer, I know our call was disconnected.

  “Help!” I yell as I’m suspended by the seatbelt that kept me inside the SUV.

  I see people running toward me, my panic reaching an all-time high as I see it’s George. “You tell Remy, I’ll be waiting on him.” He peeks in at me. “Sorry you got caught up in the process doll, you’re really a beautiful girl and way too good for my son.”

  I shout in rage, unable to get my seatbelt unlatched as I watch him run away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Remy

  My heart is in my throat as my gaze travels up and down Porter Pike. Steele warned us that Tatum had wrecked, but she couldn’t say where she was, and she couldn’t get loose from the confines of her seat belt. It jammed, and if I know my girl she’s mad as hell.

  Drew’s driving as carefully as possible, but I know he’s dying, wanting to speed up and down the roads, to get to her as quickly as possible.

  Coming out of a straight-stretch, I look to the right, noticing an SUV rolled over on it’s top. “That’s Tatum.” I point, knowing with everything I am, that it is her.

  We get as close as we can, bailing out our doors, sliding and slipping as the sleet continues to come down. Making our way over to her, we yell for her. “Tatum!”

  “I’m okay!” Her voice is a balm to my soul, the best sound I’ve ever heard in my life. “The blood is rushing to my head, and my seatbelt is jammed.”

  “We’ll get you out in a second,” Drew promises her as we race to the driver’s side.

  He reaches down in his pants and grabs a knife, using it to cut her free of the seatbelt. As we pull her out of the wreckage, I see blood and bruises on her, she’s favoring one ankle, and I feel a rage I’ve never felt before.

  “Remy, your dad said come find him,” she whispers, as she shivers in the elements.

  I want to go to her, to make sure she’s okay, but right now I also want to hold onto the anger, just in case I need it. I know one touch from her and it’ll be a balm to my soul, it�
��ll calm me down, when I don’t really want the calm.

  “Did he check on you? Did he come up here and then leave without getting you out of here?”

  She nods, and I feel it. The rage I’ve always been able to hold back. Never again, because right now this rage is going to take me under and I have no desire to hold it back.

  Liam arrives, running across the field to us. I don’t hear anything he says to Tatum; my ears are ringing, my body is vibrating with an emotion I’ve never felt before. It’s the darkness I’ve always been able to control, and right now I’m letting the beast out of its cage.

  “Remy!” I hear Liam shout at me. He walks over, putting his hands on my cheeks and leveling our gazes. “I understand this is something you have to do on your own. I’m willing to give you a head start and let you do what you need to, but know Heaven Hill will have your back. We won’t be far behind, and if you don’t fuck him up for trying to kill my daughter, you can bet your ass I will. Go get that son of a bitch.”

  I leave Tatum in the capable hands of her brother and dad, making my way across town to the house I grew up in. Janet still owns it, even if she doesn’t stay in it, and I know that’s where the two of these pieces of shit are. They would go back to the scene of their crimes, to where they made a kid scared to death in his own home.

  Driving as fast as the conditions allow, I make it before my temper has cooled off. It takes a lot to get me mad, and to be honest I’ve never been this mad before. My whole life I’ve worked very hard to keep my temper in check, tried not to let myself fly off the handle at stupid shit, and to make it count when I have something to say.

  Everything I’m about to say needs to count to the people inside this damn house.

  I carefully make my way up the walkway and beat on the door. “I know you’re both in there, let me in.”

  “Did you come with all your friends?” George taunts through the door. “Afraid to take on your old man by yourself?”

  “It’s just me here, motherfucker, open the door and let me in.”

  He opens the door, gazing around, and when he verifies I’m by myself, he lets me in. I don’t even wait until the door is closed before I advance on him, wrapping my hands around his neck, squeezing with everything I have. His fist connects with my lip and nose, blood dotting the collar of the white undershirt I wear. We go down as I throw him onto the shitty dining room table that’s been there since I was a kid. With our combined weight on it, it shatters and we hit the floor hard. He throws a punch, I answer with one to the head, and we both grunt as we fight hand to hand with each other on the floor.

  “Still a pussy,” he grunts as I land one in his gut.

  “Shut the fuck up.” I land another across his cheek and struggle to my knees, trying to get beyond the broken wood and debris.

  “You’re still nothing, Remy, still that scared kid who hid in the closet in that room back there and pissed your pants when you heard I was coming home. How does that make you feel? That fifteen years don’t change a thing.”

  We’ve both gotten to our feet and with a yell, I run right into him, head connecting with his chest as I push him back against the stove. “Fifteen years has changed everything,” I argue, taking a coffee cup sitting around and busting it over his head.

  “Remy, stop!” Janet yells as he bleeds from the head. “You’ll hurt him!”

  And that’s when I turn on her. The one person who was supposed to keep me safe, the one person who was supposed to put my wants and needs over hers. She never did, oh she tried, but it never lasted. “What about me?” I rage at her, advancing on the woman who gave birth to me. My frame dwarfs hers, and I almost feel bad at the way she cowers from me, like all abused women do when faced with rage. Almost. Because I don’t feel sorry for her, she allowed me to be on the receiving end way too many times.

  “Aren’t you supposed to care about your son? About your family? Not about the piece of shit who steals from you and uses your kid as a punching bag? You’re just as bad as he is because you didn’t stop it. You never cared to! You never cared about me!”

  “But I did.”

  Cash’s voice is a surprise in the room, and tears automatically come to my eyes as I hear the voice of safety, the voice of reason that got through all the bullshit so many times.

  “Like you told me not too long ago,” he says, his voice strained as he holds a gun on George behind me. “Doesn’t matter if I legitimately have one, two, or three kids. What makes me a father is what’s in here.” He points to his chest. “And I can tell you that you’re the reason I’m so good with Maddie. You taught me everything about being a responsible adult and taking on the care of someone else, Remy. Which is why I can’t let you do this. No parent willingly allows their child to put themselves in a situation that has no good outcome. So what we’re going to do is leave.” He holds his free hand out to me.

  “Yeah, listen to your bastard brother and leave,” George taunts from behind me.

  “We’re going to leave, then they’re going to pack up whatever they need and not come back here. You have an MC escort, and if you refuse, I know things.” He smiles at George, a shady smile. One I’ve never seen my brother use. “Things about you and the way you hurt other people.” Cash lifts an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, you know what I’m talking about, and you know there’s proof. You will leave Bowling Green tonight, and you will allow us to auction off this house, and give the money to CRISIS. We will never see either of you again, is that clear?”

  Whatever Cash has on George must be legit, because he’s literally shaking in his shoes. “We’re clear,” he chokes out.

  Cash uncocks the gun, walking us out to the front porch, where he hands it to Tyler. “Thanks for letting me use it.”

  In silence, we walk to Cash’s car. “What do you have on him?” I can’t help but ask.

  “Remember when I said in there, sometimes as a parent you block options that have no good outcomes? You knowing wouldn’t change anything, Rem. What I’ve seen is what I’ve seen, and I have to live with it for the rest of my life. No reason you should have to.”

  I lean in, hugging him tightly. Cash is the one who stepped up when he didn’t have to, and I know I’ll never forget it.

  “I love you.” I clap his back.

  “Love you too, now go home and make sure Tatum’s alright.” He pulls back from our hug, wiping his face. “I’m gonna go home, hug my wife and daughter, and forget any of this ever happened.”

  As I watch him drive off, I’m not sure any of us can ever forget, but I leave here with my head held high, knowing that for once in my life, George didn’t make me back down.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Tatum

  The clubhouse is noisy, but as I sit in Remy’s room, waiting on him, I relish the quiet. I don’t know what he’s doing, but I know whatever it is, it’s in my honor and possibly for his sanity.

  I asked my dad hours ago when Remy would be back, but he wouldn’t tell me. That makes me nervous. Remy isn’t a hard man, not until he’s backed into a corner, and then he fights like a wounded dog.

  The doorknob turns, and I stand up from where I’ve been sitting, my gaze taking in the man I’ve been thinking about.

  “Are you okay?” I ask as I take in Remy’s appearance. I’ve never seen him look so disheveled. Never seen him with blood on his knuckles or the red stains on his clothing.

  “Better than I’ve been in a while. They won’t be back. Ever again.” He sighs, but his shoulders aren’t slumped. They aren’t hunched over at all; he’s standing straight and tall, looking like he’s ready to take on the world.

  I don’t ask him what that means. I don’t want him to lie to me, but I also don’t necessarily want to know the truth either. He warned me about the darkness within him, but I never saw it. Not until I was in danger, but there’s something I know too – he’ll never hurt me. If anything, it’s shown me he has a grip on it that won’t be challenged. Even if it is, he’ll hang onto it
for me. I’ll never be in danger from him.

  “I thought you were dead.” He closes the distance between us. “When I saw your SUV, I thought you were dead and I wanted to murder them with my bare hands. Now I want to make sure you’re alive, Tate.” His eyes burn as they meet mine.

  Arousal blooms out of the adrenaline we’ve both been living off of for hours. “Make me feel alive,” I beg him, as he lifts me up by my ass, walking us to the nearest wall.

  His hands move to his belt buckle, unlatching and pushing everything down just far enough to get his cock out. Quickly, he unhooks one of my legs to push down the leggings I have on far enough so that he can rip them down the middle. Panties go the same way, before he cups my ass again, pulling me around his middle.

  “What about a condom?” I dig my fingers into is cut, not really caring, but knowing it’s something he’s very careful with.

  “I’ll fuckin’ pull out, can’t wait any longer. I just need to fuck you.”

  And with that he does, pushing his hard length into my body. I wrap my legs tighter around him, trying to help with the push and pull of the rhythm, but it’s hard pressed against the wall. When I realize all I’m doing is frustrating us both, I stop and let him do all the work.

  He buries his head in my chest, thrusting into me like a man possessed, and I take it, revel in it, love every bit of it, because he’s not holding back. He needs to fuck, and I’m here to give him what he needs. I’m finally mature enough in his eyes to be the woman he craves in every situation. And I’m not going to lie, having his singular focus on me is hot as hell. He lifts his head, jaw clenched as he leans in, owning my mouth as he continues to work my pussy. This is rough, hard, and not at all sweet like the man who’s captured my heart, but I know this is just another facet of him, another chink in the armor he’s placed around his heart coming down.