When we got to the door, Jordan knocked. “Isabel, it’s me. Open up.”
Nothing.
He pulled out a key and opened the door.
“Isabel.”
She wasn’t here.
I glared at my best friend and raised my hands.
“Shit, she must have taken off,” he said. “What do you want to do? Head to Des Moines?”
I looked around the room. “I don’t think she went home. She wouldn’t leave without her father.”
“Let’s ask around, see if we can track her.”
It was a good thing I didn’t delete the pictures of Isabel off my phone. The desk clerk recognized her and said she’d walked to the diner a couple hours ago. Then a waitress at the diner had seen her use the payphone before getting into a cab. Jordan headed back to the clubhouse to work his magic with the cab companies while I went back to the motel. There was a chance she could come back, but I knew that was a delusion on my part.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Isabel
The girl who approached the Snakes’ clubhouse was a lot different from the one who’d trembled in front of the Aces’ gate a few months ago. I should be scared, but I couldn’t summon the feeling.
The Snakes’ clubhouse was a pub, or at least it was a pub at one point. The space was big but narrow. Booths lined one wall while a long bar ran along the other side. I could see tables stacked on the small stage toward the back.
Per MC protocol, I was greeted by a prospect. “I’m here to see Lionel,” I said simply and held his gaze.
After a pat down, he led me toward the back and into an office.
My uncle’s face lit up with a smarmy smirk. “Isabel, I’m glad you are here. I’m surprised to see you unharmed. The Aces are pretty nasty to traitors.”
I was sure we had different definitions of “unharmed”. I leaned against the doorway. “Where’s my dad?”
He leaned back in his large leather chair and crossed his arms. “Before I let you two leave, I need your word you’ll stay silent about this whole affair.”
I let out a breath. “I won’t say anything. I can’t incriminate you without dragging the Aces into it.”
Lionel raised his eyebrows. “You still have loyalty to them?”
“No, I simply don’t want to be looking over my shoulder the rest of my life. I just want to take Dad home and get over it.”
He simply nodded and stood up from the desk. “I’ll take you to him.”
“Why don’t you bring him here?” I said, having learned my lesson on trusting him.
“You saw him. He won’t be able to do the stairs and I can’t carry him by myself.”
He was probably lying, but I didn’t exactly have back-up. I had to duck to follow him down the stairs into a low ceilinged basement. The small space filled with shelves and kegs. Lionel lifted his chin toward the back wall. My father was lying on the floor with his wrist handcuffed to some pipes coming out of the wall. I moved around the kegs and bent down to my knees, bring his head into my lap. Seeing him again, no better than two days ago, made the tears return. “Daddy,” I whispered.
“He should be okay … eventually,” my uncle muttered.
“Dad,” I said, cupping his face.
“Isabel.” His voice was hoarse and his lips cracked.
I sniffed quickly, determined to keep the tears at bay. He needed me to be strong. “Can you stand? I’m going to take you to a hospital.”
Slowly, my father nodded and rolled to his side. He put his hands on the ground and tried to push his way up. I gripped the pipe next to me and grabbed his arm to help him stand. Suddenly, I felt something metal around my wrist.
The little clicks of the cuff locking seemed so slow in my mind. How could I be so stupid?
I hit out at Lionel, but he stepped back before I could get at him. Without my help, Dad fell back to the floor. “I’m sorry, my dear, but Chico wants you to stick around. Since our plan failed, he is looking for a little entertainment. He also hates Rem Riley with a passion.”
“I always knew you were a bit skeevy, uncle. But this? We are your family,” I snarled.
“I don’t need family,” he said, his eyes devoid of all emotion like a true sociopath. He didn’t look back as went to the stairs.
I nudged closer to Dad and laid his head in my lap. I prayed for help, but I knew no one was coming.
****
It wasn’t long before the basement door opened and light beamed on the opposite wall. A large shadow moved across the wall and became smaller as the figured moved down the stairs. I knew it was Chico when he came to the bottom and started to move toward me. I clutched Dad’s shoulder with my free hand, but he was passed out again. I was grateful for that small favor. If he was awake, I’m sure Chico would kill him if he tried to interfere, and my father would try.
The single light in the basement cast Chico’s face in shadow, but I saw hints of a smile and flashing eyes. He was excited.
Oh God. My rape was a certainty, and all I could do was sit here. The adrenaline started pumping, making me dizzy.
I saw a small grimace as he bent to unlock the cuffs. But it was gone as he took my hand, tugging me to stand. The smell of sweat and booze nearly made me gag. His fingers on my skin felt greasy.
I let him pull me along because I didn’t see the point of fighting. He could easily overpower me. I could wait for the opportunity and try to run. But there was the prospect at the front, and I didn’t see a back exit. Even if there was one, I would waste time looking for it.
Once we made it back to the main floor, he led me to another staircase that went to the upper level. The stairs were steep and narrow. Chico kept a tight grip on my wrist as I climbed behind him. I looked down to watch my step, and that was when I saw something shiny. There was a knife in his boot. I briefly wondered how comfortable it was to keep a switchblade in your shoe before I realized that it might be my chance.
I lifted my eyes so I didn’t give away my intent.
Who am I kidding? What am I going to do with a knife? I can’t hurt him.
What’s the alternative? Do you want to be raped? You have to try. Catwoman stomped around in my head.
During the internal argument, I was pulled into a bedroom. It reeked of man stink, like dirty clothes, sneakers, and sex. There was only a queen bed and a dresser. He released my wrist and closed the door. I started backing up, but he grabbed my hair, yanking it back.
“On your knees,” he growled and pushed me down. I noticed that he looked a lot paler than the last time I’d seen him. His eyes still held that evil gleam, but the circles beneath were more pronounced. He looked sick.
While he looked like he was ready to pass out, he still had the strength to push me to my knees. I nearly gagged again at the thought of what was coming. He pulled my hair once more. “Get my cock out.”
My fingers trembled as I unbuckled his belt and then his jeans. I didn’t want to touch him, but my brain couldn’t find a way around it. I rubbed him through his boxers, and I felt his penis harden. Beneath his t-shirt I saw something white, like gauze. Didn’t Rem say that one of the robbers got away but not before he shot the guy in the torso?
I could use the injury to my advantage, but the knife was still my best bet.
I just needed him to look away for just a moment so I could grab the blade. I took a breath and prayed this worked. I gazed up at Chico, hoping my look of desire wasn’t going overboard. I pushed my hand through the gap in his boxers and gripped him lightly. Swallowing down disgust, I wrapped my whole hand around him and stroked up and down, letting my other hand slip down his leg. His eyes closed, and his head rolled back.
Before I could overthink it, I grabbed the switchblade, opened it and jammed it into his thigh. He jumped back at the last second, but I still managed to cut the inside of his leg.
He took a couple seconds to steady himself. “Puta bitch!”
I quickly switched the blade from my left hand to my
right and held it up, ready to jam it down like Psycho.
Blood was seeping down his thigh. If I’d caught the big artery there, how long would it take him to bleed out? Chico didn’t seem concerned about the cut. Instead he was clutching his side where Rem had put a bullet in him. For a moment I thought he might back off. He was injured in two places. He must realize that I had a chance to fight him off.
But it was only wishful thinking on my part because Chico charged forward, grabbing at my wrist and shoving me back. We tumbled to the bed. I tried to stab at his shoulder, but his hand knocked the knife away. Next thing I knew his hands were around my throat, squeezing. I clawed at his hands and wrists, trying to get my fingers under his, but all I managed to do was cut into his skin with my nails. Panic set in as my lungs started to hurt.
If I was watching this moment on TV, I would have a million ideas of how to stop it. But fear was a dominant bitch, bringing me so low that there was no thought but my next breath. I was so scared that I just started begging.
“Please.”
It was nothing but a wheeze past my lips.
Chico’s grip only tightened. His eyes were flashing again, the sadistic bastard enjoying my descent into darkness.
As the darkness was creeping into my vision, I let my fists swing wildly at his body. For the first few hits, my efforts only made his job easier as my energy drained. Then my hand connected with his torso, and I felt him grunt and his grip loosen. I sucked in the air that I could and sought the same spot with my fingers. I dug my knuckles into that spot, hoping to find the hole. I must have hit pay dirt because he took one hand from my throat to grip my wrist.
I turned my face to the side and coughed as air rushed into my lungs. That was when I saw the knife in the tangled sheets of the bed.
While Chico was pinning my right hand down to the mattress, I reached for the blade. With the last bit of strength from my oxygen-deprived muscles, I gripped the handle and jammed the knife into the side of Chico’s throat.
He released me to reach for his own neck.
I continued to cough as more air rushed into my lungs. His blood started to drip on my chin and chest. I looked up into Chico’s face, eyes bulging and mouth gulping for air. One hand was around the blade while his other tried to pull at the handle.
I shoved him off me, and he fell to his back on the bed. I scrambled away.
I tried to stand, but my body dragged me back down so I had to sit on the edge, hanging my head in between my knees. Chico was still struggling behind me, so I covered my ears and screamed. My damaged vocal cords grated, but I couldn’t stop.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Rem
Jordan tracked Isabel’s cab to the spot I was standing with Max and Hawk. We all looked around, trying to find where she could have gone. This was an older part of Watertown, and a lot of the store fronts were empty.
This feeling of dread was growing in my stomach with every second that passed. Isabel was in danger, I could fucking feel it. While we did not know why she’d come to this part of town, I was almost certain that it had something to do with her father. She probably felt the need to end this on her own. I could kill her for putting herself in harm’s way, but what choice did she have? I was the one who’d abandoned her, who’d made the club abandon her.
I was just about to suggest we split up when I heard the rumble of a bike. I walked to the corner just as a Harley disappeared behind a brick building standing by itself down the block.
“Was he wearing a cut?” Max asked as he came up behind me.
“I don’t know, but it’s the best lead we got,” I said.
I started to head to the building. “Hold up,” Max said. “Give me your cut.” All three of us stripped off our cuts and handed them to Max.
He took them to his bike to put in his saddle bag so I motioned to Hawk. “You head to the back.”
Hawk nodded and jogged across the street to head behind the buildings.
I tried to be casual as we crossed the street and headed toward the building. We could only see one man inside through the windows.
“Jimmy’s?” Max said.
I nodded.
Max pushed open the door like he was looking for someone. I stayed behind him. “Hey is this Jimmy’s bar?”
“No, dumbass,” said the prospect.
“Too bad.” Max swung to his right, and I lifted my gun. The prospect went down without a sound.
Max pulled his weapon, and we each approached the back of the bar from different sides. We were halfway across the space when we heard a scuffle in the back. Hawk came out of the hallway, dragging a man in a suit behind him. The skinny guy held his nose as it bled. Hawk shoved the man down onto his knees. I recognized Isabel’s uncle from his picture in the file back at the clubhouse.
“Where is she?” I roared.
“Upstairs,” he said and spat blood at my boots.
I ran for the stairs with my brothers cursing behind me. There were three doors, but only one of them was closed. When I found it locked, I slammed the door open with my foot.
I was ready to start shooting, but there was no threat, just Isabel sitting on the bed with her hands over her ears.
Relief like I’d never known flooded into my veins. I didn’t realize that the uncertainty of never seeing her again was hanging over my head like a guillotine. But my happiness was cut short as I knelt in front of her and pulled her hands away from her head. There was blood all over her arms and chest.
“Isabel,” I said gently, cupping her face. Her eyes moved slowly across my face before finally meeting mine. Even then, she seemed to look through me, her gaze ghostly. A soft whine was coming from her throat, and her face was wet with tears.
Isabel’s tears were always painful, but these were different. I pulled her to me, and she cuddled herself against my neck. My eyes closed, savoring the warmth of my woman in my arms again, swearing to God I would make things right.
When I opened my eyes I was shocked to see something next to her. There was a man lying on the bed. It was one of the Snakes with a knife sticking out of his neck.
At least that explained all the blood. His jugular must have gushed when she stabbed him. My thoughts did a full stop at the sight. Isabel had killed a man?
Little ways down I noticed that his fly was down and his boxers were showing.
I held her a little tighter than I intended as pure fury took over my mind. “Did he…” I said the words through gritted teeth.
Suddenly, her crying stopped and she leaned back. Her eyes were clear as she looked at me. Her brow furrowed and then she looked around the room, as if she was taking it in for the first time. When her gaze finally settled back on me, our eyes met for only an instant before she looked away again. In that moment, I wasn’t sure if it was fear or anger that I saw in her eyes, but I knew it wasn’t relief.
Abruptly, she stood and crossed the room. “It didn’t get that far,” she said, her voice hoarse. She crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed her biceps. She only had on a tank top. Looking at it now, it was the one I saw her in yesterday, when I’d thrown her out of my club.
When Isabel looked at me again I felt the weight of her eyes like a cannon ball to the chest. They were red and puffy but sad and guarded. “What are you doing here, Rem?” she asked, licking her lips.
I stood up slowly, not sure where to start. How do you properly apologize for throwing your lover to the wolves? For allowing a man like Chico to touch her, to hurt her? What can I say to make it okay?
I decided to explain before I started to apologize. “It was Amy. She set you up to take the fall because she wanted me to hate you. I guess she thought we had something going before you arrived.”
Her lips clamped together, clearly trying to hold back more tears. I suddenly realized my mistake. She must not have known that Amy was the one to set her up.
“I’m sorry.” I tried to get closer, but she backed away again.
She still looked
at the floor. “It’s okay, Rem. I have no cause to be angry. She wouldn’t have been able to do it if I hadn’t lied like I did.”
I never forgot about her role in this, but I just didn’t care anymore. She was this clueless girl thrown into a den of thieves and murderers. Does anyone truly come out without some kind of guilt? I would find out how to make it right with the club, and whatever the consequences were, I was ready to face them with her. Before I could say another word, she spoke again. “I need help getting my dad out of the basement and to a hospital, if that is okay?”
I nodded quickly. “Yeah. Of course. Skinny is bringing the van, and I’ll take care of everything here.”
“Thanks,” she said and walked out the door and down the stairs before I could say anything else. My apology for my part would have to wait.
We got her and her dad off to the hospital. She didn’t look at me the entire time.
I really fucked this up.
I watched the van drive away with Max at my back. “She’s just hurt and scared, Rem. She’ll come around,” he said, reading my mind. “After a lot of groveling, of course.”
I let out a breath and turned back to the bar. It was time to settle things here so I could think about where to start with the groveling.
Inside, Hawk still waited with the uncle on his knees. I nodded to my friend and he walked up behind Lionel. Quickly, he took one of the accountant’s hands and broke his pinky.
Lionel screamed. It was the sweetest thing I’d heard all day.
“Why are the Snakes setting up labs in our territory?” I asked after the whimpers quieted.
Lionel shook his head as if to clear it. “The cartel, they are paying them to do it,” he said between heavy breaths.
“Why would the cartel want to fund labs this side of the border?”
“They found smuggling in the ingredients is easier than trying to smuggle in the complete product. And they are tired of the Italians claiming all the business in the Midwest.”
Reign Over Me (The Covenant Book 1) Page 23
