Laced with Fear

by Hayley Faiman

  My feet start to move before I realize it and I throw my arms around his neck, tears spilling from my eyes as I cry against his shirt. He holds me, one hand against the back of my head, the other pressing against my back.

  It’s over. It’s finally over.

  The words play on a loop inside of my head as I hold him, and he holds me. I can’t believe that this is how everything played out.

  “I’m taking you to the doctor,” Prescott announces. Lifting my head, I wipe my eyes and look up at him in confusion. “I have to know you’re both okay,” he rasps.

  His eyes search mine, and he’s serious. The man is seriously worried about us. Nodding, I lift to my toes and press my mouth against his. Prescott’s lips touch mine, but he doesn’t deepen our kiss, just a soft caress and then he takes a step back.

  Looking around my living room, I notice that it’s filled with members of the Devils. Nobody is saying anything; their eyes are on me and Prescott.

  I give them a shaky smile and a small wave. I hear a few chuckles and Prescott looks down at me with a smirk. “Go upstairs, rest while we clean this shit up, then we’ll go to the doctor,” he murmurs.

  His green eyes capture me as they always do, and I find myself nodding, unable to speak. He reaches down and gently pats my ass. I do as he’s asked, not wishing to be around the dead bodies that litter my living room.

  Slowly, I make my way upstairs and then walk directly toward my bed. Pulling the comforter back, I slide between the sheets. As soon as my head hits the pillow my eyes slide closed and I fall asleep.

  SNAKE

  Ginger walks upstairs and as soon as the bedroom door closes, I turn to my brothers. They’re all giving me pitying looks, but honest to fuck, I don’t need them. Orville was my father, he was the man who raised me, but this man I killed, I don’t even recognize him—he’s a stranger.

  “We have bodies to clean and dispose of,” I announce. I’m met with soft grunts from the other men.

  The next four hours, that’s what we spend our time doing. Cleaning up the front yard, the living room, and then burning bodies. Devils always burn bodies, it’s our signature, and it’s also one of the easiest ways to get rid of a body’s identifiers. Teeth are the only things left that can identify a body, and once the embers are cool, I’m going to crush them into fine dust.

  “None of us saw through him,” Motorhead mutters as we watch and try not to gag on the smell of the seven burning bodies.

  I shake my head, looking down at the ground. “Nobody but Free.”.

  “I feel like this is bigger than Samuel Jones,” Motorhead announces.

  I find that I agree with him. None of this feels like it’s been laid to rest with the deaths of these men. “How many more of them are in town?” I ask, watching the flames in front of me.

  “None, this was all he had. The rest are on their way, supposedly,” Free states.

  Looking around, I let out a sigh. “Lockdown isn’t practical right now, not for something like this. Yet, it feels necessary.”

  “Say the word,” Motorhead grunts.

  I can tell he seems itchy as if he’s ready to get everyone rounded up, and locked up. “I’ll send out my decision tonight,” I say.

  I’m not ready to make a commitment yet. I want to talk to my vice president, Free, and my sergeant at arms, Crooner, first. I’m not feeling confident in my decision-making skills today. I’m sure that it will all come back to me, but this bullshit knocked me on my ass a bit. I’m going to need my men at my back supporting me, until I’m where I need to be.

  Once the fires are out and the bodies are charred beyond any type of recognition, we leave them where they are. I’m going to take care of the bones tonight, but first, I need to get Ginger to the doctor.

  My father and Samuel’s words scared me a bit. I definitely don’t think that anything is wrong with my baby, but I also don’t know exactly what they’re capable of, so I just want Ginger to have a checkup to be completely sure.

  The men leave, and I tell them that I’ll send out a text in a few hours with my decision. I tell Free to hang around the house as a guard while I’m gone with Ginger, and I send Crooner a text to meet me here in an hour.

  Walking upstairs, I quickly shower and change, then I dress before walking over to the bed. Ginger is passed out, looking pale, exhausted, and beautiful all at the same time. Sitting down next to her, I gently wake her up. I keep my intent gaze on her face as her eyes flutter open. A smile plays on her lips as she takes in my face.

  “Ready to get a checkup?” I whisper.

  She nods, slowly sitting up. She doesn’t stand from the bed, though. She lifts an arm, wraps her fingers around the side of my neck and leans forward. Her lips brush mine, her tongue tasting my lips before she lifts her face. Pressing her forehead against mine, she breathes, her breath fanning my face.

  “I love you, Prescott Gordon.”

  Lifting my own hand, I wrap it around the side of her neck, as well. “Fuck, Ginger, I love you with everything that I am,” I sigh.

  We stay like that for a few beats, then I disengage from her and help her stand up. I watch, unable to keep my eyes off of her as she makes her way to the bathroom to get ready for her appointment.

  Today could have turned out so differently. I can’t pretend that I wasn’t scared, that the thought of losing Ginger again, or my baby, didn’t terrify the fuck out of me. It did. They are mine, mine to love but also mine to protect and I’ll do that with my fucking life.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  GINGER

  My bags are packed, Fish’s woman, Gracie is at the grocery store, and Prescott is dropping me off at the clubhouse. We’re on lockdown. I thought after yesterday, after everything that happened with Samuel and Orville that it was over. Apparently, I was wrong.

  “Crooner and Fish will be here, but the rest of us will be out,” Prescott announces.

  I nod, looking up at him, wishing that he were staying too. Prescott slips his hand around the back of my neck and squeezes me gently. Lowering his head, his lips hover above mine. “It will all be okay, peaches,” he says.

  Pressing my lips against his, I inhale as I kiss him, memorizing his scent of leather, oil, and soap. The hand on the back of my neck squeezes tighter, and his other hand grabs ahold of my ass.

  His tongue sneaks out and slips past my lips, consuming me immediately. I want him to stay right here, right where I know he’s safe.

  He breaks our kiss but doesn’t back away from me, immediately. Instead, he presses his forehead against mine, his eyes closed as he just breathes.

  “Take care of our girl,” he mutters.

  Prescott releases me, turning around, he quickly walks away. I don’t get a chance to call out his name before he’s gone. Glancing around, I let out a sigh. I really wish there were more Old Ladies around in this club. It seems as though Gracie and I are the only ones.

  My eye catches Hayden’s. She’s sitting at a table, far in the corner and she’s attempting to blend in with the wall. I can understand that, but I won’t allow it. She looks like she could use a friend. Making my way toward her, I watch as her eyes widen before she attempts to school her features.

  “Where’s the baby?” I ask, sitting down in the empty seat next to her.

  She presses her lips together, tipping her head to the side before she speaks. “He’s sleeping. Crooner is hanging outside of his door,” she answers.

  I look down the hallway, and sure enough, Crooner is positioned right outside of a closed door, his own bedroom door. “So, you and Crooner?” I ask, trying to get information out of the girl.

  Hayden’s face turns pink and she shakes her head. “He’s been such a wonderful friend. But that’s all, aside from the fact that I’m a mess, he’s not interested.”

  I almost snort at her words, wondering if she actually believes them or not. How could Crooner, who hasn’t been able to be more than five feet away from her since she arrived, possibly be unin
terested? I think he’s keeping his distance because of her age, and her background, but he is most definitely interested.

  Gracie walks into the practically empty clubhouse a few minutes later, her arms full of grocery bags. Fish slowly walks over to her and I watch as he takes them from her before carrying them into the kitchen.

  “C’mon, let’s unload all the food,” I offer Hayden with a smile.

  She stands, and her head turns toward her baby’s room, toward Crooner. I don’t force her to come with me, I can tell she’s waging something inside of her head, and I’m not one to force anybody to do anything. Maybe she doesn’t want to leave her baby, maybe she doesn’t want to leave Crooner, hell if I know.

  Leaving Hayden standing, staring at the man who is most definitely interested in her, I walk into the kitchen. I sigh when I see a clubwhore helping Gracie unload the bags of food.

  I want to make her leave, but there’s no sense in it. She’s just doing a job here, no matter how much I hate it. Minding my own business, I help get everything unloaded, situated, and organized.

  “I’m Twinkie, well, really my name is Truly, but the guys all call me Twinkie,” she whispers giving me a shaky smile.

  I return her smile with one of my own and hold out my hand. “I’m Ginger.”

  She shakes my hand and her smile brightens. She’s a pretty girl, young, but her face is covered in heavy, thick makeup, and her body is barely covered by scraps of material.

  “I know who you are. They all love you. Nobody has ever said a bad word about you. Your man, he really loves you.”

  “He does?” I ask, wondering just where she got that information from.

  She nods, almost violently. “I’ve never seen him even look at another woman. He doesn’t really party or anything. I hope one day I get a guy like him,” she whispers.

  I want to explain to her that she’ll never find a man like Prescott, and keep him, if she’s whoring around with dozens of other men, but I don’t. She’s young and she’ll figure it out, eventually. Plus, I really try to stay out of club business, and she is very much club business.

  “Go over a menu with me, Ginger?” Gracie calls out from the other side of the kitchen. I give Truly a small wave and turn to make my way over to help Gracie.

  Gracie and I talk about the menu for a few minutes then she lets out a long exhale. “That girl, she’s a freaking disaster,” she murmurs.

  “Who?” I ask looking around the empty kitchen.

  “Truly,” she snorts. “Girl came here about a year ago. She’s one of those girls looking for a brand, thinks whoring is the way to get it. I don’t know, I just get the feeling she’s not completely all she’s pretending to be,” Gracie mutters, narrowing her eyes at the closed kitchen door.

  “Why do you say that?”

  Gracie shrugs, going back to her menu. “I don’t know, just a gut feeling I guess. There’s just something not right about her.”

  Abandoning the subject of Truly the Twinkie, Gracie and I finish a menu of breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the next week. “Hopefully we won’t be here longer than a week,” Gracie mutters.

  “Who is running your business while you’re here?” I ask, leaning my hip against the counter.

  She smiles and leans her own hip against the counter across from me. “I have an awesome assistant. Her name is Ruby. She’s a retired registered nurse, and she’s just the sweetest thing in the world. She takes over for me when I can’t be there, but she typically only works part-time.”

  “Nice,” I smile.

  “What about the bar?” she asks, tipping her head to the side.

  I explain how I was stressed, and the doctor was worried about my rising blood pressure, so Prescott forced me to quit. Then I continue to tell her that Hayden and the guys were running the bar until Hayden was put on lockdown, so now it’s just the guys and Traci.

  “Sounds terrifying, I don’t want to even think about the mess you’ll be going back to,” she laughs.

  “No fucking kidding,” I snort.

  A blood-curdling scream fills the air and a chill runs throughout my entire body. “Shit, stay here,” Gracie hisses.

  My eyes widen, and fear fills my entire body as I watch her walk out of the kitchen and toward that scream. It feels like a lifetime until Gracie comes back into the kitchen to get me. “Doctor is on the way, it’s safe to come out,” she murmurs.

  I don’t know who is hurt, or what’s happening. That is until I step outside of the kitchen and into the common area.

  Crooner is laying in a pool of blood, while Hayden is draped over him and sobbing loudly. Twinkie is standing in the corner, her arms wrapped around her stomach as she watches the scene around her.

  Other whores run around, taking towels to Crooner. Fish is on his other side and attempts to stop the flow of blood from his chest. It’s like a fucking nightmare.

  “What happened?” I whisper, turning to Gracie.

  Gracie’s wide eyes turn to me. “Someone ran in, shot him and then nobody saw him after. Ginger,” she hisses. I wait for her to continue and her wide eyes turn toward the hallway. “The baby,” she cries.

  Both of us take off in a sprint toward the bedroom. Gracie wraps her hand around the doorknob and turns it slowly. Her eyes are closed, and I imagine she’s sending up a million prayers that Hayden’s son is still very much sleeping in the bed.

  Stepping inside, it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. I find the pack-n-play crib and rush over to it. Gracie is right behind me, both of our knees buckle together at the sight of a sweet sleeping boy.

  “Holy shit, I thought he was gone,” I rasp.

  Gracie makes a noise in the back of her throat, reaching down and picking him up. She cradles him to her chest and gently rocks back and forth. I watch her, knowing that she’s been watching him day-after-day and has a special bond with him.

  “I just knew he wasn’t going to be here,” she whispers.

  “Me too,” I agree.

  Gracie’s eyes meet mine. “I have no doubt, this is why that man came here. Unfortunately, we don’t know who it could have been, because it very well could have been Lucifer or the Aryans.”

  “I know,” I nod.

  She shakes her head, her eyes getting moist. “This has to stop. They need to bring those fuckers down.”

  “Hopefully they do today,” I say.

  The bedroom door flies open, and Hayden is standing on the other side, blood covering her clothes. “He’s okay,” she says.

  “He’s okay,” I confirm.

  She nods, tears running down her face. “Crooner isn’t okay,” she breathes.

  I open my mouth to speak, but Gracie beats me to it. “Go, be with him, we’ll stay with the baby,” she urges, and I smile because I was going to say the exact same thing. Hayden nods before turning around and rushing off.

  “Lea is in the game room and freaked out probably. Let’s go in there and try to keep our minds off of all this shit,” Gracie suggests.

  With a jerk of my head, I follow her. I need to relax. My heart feels like it’s going to explode from my chest. I still don’t know exactly what happened, but I know that I need to calm the fuck down.

  SNAKE

  The motel room was a little too easy to break into. In fact, all of this has been a little too easy. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for shit to really hit the fan.

  Motorhead growls, looking down at his phone and then marches toward me. We’re sitting in this room, Samuel’s abandoned room, waiting for the rest of the Aryan fucks to arrive.

  “Crooner was shot at the clubhouse,” he growls.

  My face drains of blood and panic starts to rush through me. Ginger, my baby—I try to open my mouth to ask about them, but no sound comes out. Motorhead wraps his hand around my shoulder and gives me a small shake.

  “Whoever it was, walked in, shot Crooner and walked out. Nobody else was injured, and nothing was taken or tampered with. Fish says t
hey have no fucking clue who or why the person did this,” he explains.

  My mind starts to spin, how did this person get in and out without anybody seeing or stopping him—and why shoot Crooner and do nothing else?

  It can’t be Lucifer, he wants Hayden.

  It can’t be the Aryans, they would want the baby, Hayden, and Ginger. Running my hand through my overly long hair, I grip the strands tightly and growl.

  What in the ever-loving fuck?

  “We deal with these fucks and then we go back to the clubhouse. Whatever this is, I don’t want to leave the women without full protection again. I was stupid to think they would be okay as long as they were at the clubhouse. Obviously, whoever this is, he’s got some serious goddamn balls,” I growl.

  “We’ll find him, and take care of him,” Motorhead grunts.

  “Listen,” Free hisses.

  We all shut our mouths and that’s when we hear it too. It’s the sound of tires crunching on gravel. Brakes squeak and then I hear several different car doors open and slam shut.

  Heavy footfalls sound down the hall and I hold my breath, waiting, my heart racing with anticipation. I want to take these fuckers down, I can’t wait to take them down. It’s going to be fucking epic.

  “The staff all gone?” Motorhead asks.

  I lift my chin. I paid everybody to leave for the day, including the cleaning staff. I didn’t want any witnesses, not that anybody in my town would rat us out. However, you can never be too careful.

  Gripping my gun, I look around at my men, and finding them in the same position as I am, standing loose, their bodies calm, but their eyes wild with spikes of adrenaline.

  The doorknob jiggles and a fist pounds against it. I lift my chin to Free who slowly walks over to the door. He lifts his hand, and then five fingers, signaling there are at least five of them out there that he can see. Unlocking the deadbolt, he slowly pulls the door open.