by Chiah Wilder
As she waited for him, she reflected on all the time they spent together, her emotions bouncing between jitteriness and sadness like a never-ending ping-pong game.
The familiar sound of his voice floated around her ears, and she looked over her shoulder and saw him walking into the room alongside Army, Chains, and the two scary-looking men. When he saw her, he winked, and a flutter of electricity ran through her body. Then he smiled at her, causing an instant warmth to radiate from within, and she smiled back. He’s so perfect. So awesome. So sweet. She wanted to jump up, run into his arms, squeeze him tight, and never let him go.
“You ready?” he asked when he came over.
His words were like blows to her gut. “Yeah.” She stood up and shuffled past him. From behind, she heard him say, “I’ll be back later,” and then his heavy footfalls followed her out the door.
He opened the car door for her and she slid inside. As they drove, she saw him looking at her from the corner of her eye.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Are you nervous about going home?”
She shrugged and stared out the window. The truth was she was nervous—it’d been so long since she was last home—but she was all mixed up about Paco. At that moment, she hated him for acting like it was no big deal that he was going to take off in a few days and be out of her life forever.
Snow-laden branches reaching up to the gray sky rushed past her, and memories of sledding with her cousins filled her mind. Craftsman houses dotted the landscape, and she smiled when they passed Riverside Park. I used to go there all the time in the summer with my friends. Dad used to love to walk by Blanchard River. I’m really home! I’m going to see Mom and Kate and sleep in my own bed.
“Memories?” Paco’s deep voice pulled her back into the moment.
A big sigh. “Yeah. I can’t believe I’m back home.”
When he took the Forest Lake exit, her stomach churned. “I should call my mom and tell her I’m almost there.”
“Do you live on a lake or something?”
“Yes, we live on the lake. We even have a dock. It’s pretty nice. Peter used to take us fishing, though I never liked it. He always drank too much. I wonder if he still does.”
Paco placed his hand over hers and a spark tingled through her. “It’s going to be okay, babe.”
“Is it?” Her belly fluttered, her heart banged, and her legs were like jelly.
He turned off the main road, pulled over, and set the car in Park. Locking eyes with her, he cradled her face and placed soft kisses from her temples down past her cheeks to her lips, licking the edges before nibbling them. Then he gripped her hair as he pulled her tighter to him, his mouth crashing down on hers as teeth, tongues, and lips tangled and meshed together. It was messy, passionate, and mind-blowing. It was like time had paused and all that mattered was how wonderful it felt to be in his arms. Sensation transcended all thoughts, and she lost herself in the moment.
A steady ringing sliced through the haze of arousal and love. Chelsea fumbled for her phone, and Paco pulled away. Instantly, her mouth missed the heat of his lips, and her body chilled from the absence of his warmth.
“It’s my mom,” she said as she put the phone to her ear.
“Why aren’t you home yet?” Her mother’s tear-filled voice was like a knife to her heart.
“I’m almost home. We just got off the exit. I’ll be there in ten minutes. I love you, Mom.”
“Just hurry home, honey.”
By the time she hung up, Paco had already turned the car around. She glanced at him, but his gaze was fixed on the road. She took out her light pink lip gloss and swiped it on her lips. Soon they pulled in front of a two-story house with dove-gray wood siding on the second floor and brown brick on the first.
“They painted the shutters maroon,” she said, unfastening her seat belt. “They used to be dark gray. I like the maroon better.”
Paco opened the glove compartment and pulled out a key fob. “Take this and keep it with you always.” He put it in her hand and pointed to a red button. “This is what you press if you’re in trouble. It’ll send an alert to my phone. Don’t ever be without it, okay?”
“Okay.” She slid the fob into her pocket.
Paco came over and helped her out. The front door opened and her mother, dark-haired and petite, ran down the porch steps.
“Chelsea!”
She ran up the sidewalk, meeting her mom halfway, and they embraced. Her mother squeezed her so tight she could hardly breathe. She laughed and cried at the same time.
“I missed you so much, Mom.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she felt her mother’s tears mix with hers.
A tall woman with sandy brown hair and chunky blonde highlights came out.
“Chelsea.”
“Kate? You’ve grown. I can’t believe it’s you. You’re beautiful.” The last time she’d seen her sister, the girl had only been eleven years old. Kate came over and her mother pulled her into the hug, the three of them standing in the middle of the sidewalk embracing and crying.
Her mother wiped Chelsea’s cheeks and looked over her shoulder at the street. “Is that your friend who brought you home?”
Chelsea turned around and saw Paco leaning against the SUV, his legs crossed at the ankle, his head cocked, and his silver earring shining through his brown hair. Happiness filled her. She nodded. “Paco, come over here.”
He pushed away from the vehicle and swaggered up the walkway, coming beside her and putting his hand in the small of her back. His touch sent an electrical jolt through her.
Her mother held out her hand. “I’m Linda, Chelsea’s mother. Thank you so much for bringing my daughter home.” Her brown orbs brimmed, and she took a tissue from the pocket of her blouse and dabbed the corners of her eyes.
Paco shook her hand. “I’m Paco. You’re welcome.”
“I’m Kate. I’m Chelsea’s sister.”
“I can see the resemblance.”
Chelsea smiled inwardly—she knew Paco hated all of this. He wasn’t the type of man to engage in chitchat. She lowered her hand and pressed it against his thigh.
“Let’s go inside,” Linda said, tugging her jacket closer. “It’s freezing out.”
Chelsea started to follow her mom and sister, but Paco pulled her back. “I’ll be there in a sec, Mom,” she called over her shoulder.
“I’m gonna take off.”
Her insides lurched. “So soon? Don’t you want to come in and have a drink? You’re going to miss seeing my room.” She laughed dryly. Don’t you dare cry. I mean it.
“You need some time alone with your family. You got my number. I’ll give you a call later tonight.”
“Am I going to see you again?”
“Of course.” The whole time he talked, his gaze darted all around.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just making sure no one’s around. Take care of yourself. Don’t go out. And when you talk to the badges, don’t mention the club… or me.”
“My mom just met you.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I won’t say anything about the club or that you’re a member. I’ll say you just picked me up on the side of the road and gave me shelter until it was safe for me to come home.”
“Good girl.” He kissed her too quickly on the forehead. “Go on in. Your family keeps looking out the window.”
“You’re going to come to the barbecue, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“So you’re staying at the clubhouse?”
“I’ll let you know where I’ll be. It doesn’t look like there’s enough room for us, but we may crash there just for tonight and then get a motel.”
“And party? I know how you bikers love a good party. The club women looked nice.” Why did I say that? He’s going to think I’m jealous. I am, but I don’t want him to think that. I should just go inside.
“I’m not go
nna fuck a club woman tonight if that’s what you’re implying.” His gaze no longer darted around—it drilled into hers.
“Chelsea? Aren’t you coming in? It’s cold as hell outside. Tell your friend to come in too,” a man shouted from the front door.
She rolled her eyes. “Peter, my stepdad.”
“Go on in. I’ll call you later.” He walked around to the driver side and climbed into the car.
She waved at him and turned around. When she brushed past Peter, she heard Paco start the engine, and then Peter closed the door.
* * *
The lock clicked on Chelsea’s bedroom door, and she switched on the overhead light bathing the room in a soft glow. Leaning against the wall, she ran her gaze over the posters of teen heartthrobs from ten years ago that hung on the walls. It was as if her room had been tightly sealed in a time capsule; her mother had kept everything exactly the same as it’d been the day she was kidnapped.
On her desk, a picture of her and Tyler in a heart-shaped picture frame, taunted her. The day they’d taken that picture was clear in her mind: after school at Fruity Freeze sharing an almond mocha smoothie. I was so happy that day. She went over and picked up the frame, her gaze homing in on Tyler’s lopsided grin. There’s no way you didn’t know what your dad was going to do. You fucking set me up. How could you have done that? Taking the picture out of the frame, she ripped it up in many pieces then threw them in the trash can. Sighing, she raked her fingers through her hair. How am I going to do this?
At dinner her family had talked about everything but what had happened to her. They kept glancing at her when they thought she wasn’t looking. Afterward, she’d been in the kitchen putting the dishes in the dishwasher when Peter came in. The only questions he’d asked her were what she was made to do, and how many men she’d serviced. Not once had he asked her how she’d felt, or expressed sympathy of what she’d gone through. She couldn’t get away fast enough, and she’d made her excuses and rushed up to her room.
She walked over to the window and stared at the lake; moonlight danced delicately across the water. Will my life ever be normal again? As she contemplated her present and her future, the phone vibrated on the nightstand. She dashed over and picked it up. Paco!
“Hiya.”
“How’s it going, babe?”
“Better now that you called.”
“Did you hold up okay under all the questioning?”
“No one asked me anything except for Peter. I thought my sister and aunt and uncle would’ve wanted to talk to me about it since they’re younger, but they all acted like nothing had happened. It was fuckin’ weird. Peter just asked me about what I was forced to do and about the men. It was creepy.”
“What the fuck’s up with him?”
She could feel his anger emanating through the phone. “He’s just an asshole… and he was drunk. I guess that hasn’t changed since I’ve been gone.”
“That can be tough.”
“It’s all so strange. I don’t feel like I fit in with my own family anymore.”
“I know it’s hard, babe. It’s just gonna take time. This is your first day home. No one wants to talk about it because they want to pretend it didn’t happen… that everything is the way it used to be. I bet your mom’s feeling some guilt over the whole thing.”
“She shouldn’t be. In no way was this her fault.”
“Moms want to protect their kids so when something bad happens, they usually think they could’ve or should’ve done something to prevent it.”
“I guess. The good news is that I’m going over to my grandma’s next week to try my hand at quilting again. I swear I’ll make a puff quilt for your new nephew.”
Paco chuckled deep from the throat. “Kendra will love it. I’m glad you’re doing something you used to do with your grandmother.”
“Yeah, me too. What are you doing?”
“Just hanging with the Twisted Warriors. I stepped out back to give you a call. I wanted to make sure you’re okay. It’s fucking cold out here.”
She laughed. “Welcome to Ohio in the winter.”
“Have you talked to the police?”
“They’re coming by tomorrow morning. I hope they can catch Bobby, Victor, and Erik.”
“I wouldn’t bank on it.”
She walked back to the window. “The moonlight is pretty tonight. Do you see it?”
A pause. “Yeah.”
“We’re looking at the same thing right now. I miss you, Paco.”
An audible sigh. “I miss you too, baby.”
“How am I going to stand it when you leave?” she whispered.
“It’ll get easier in time. You’re strong.”
“Sometimes I’m not so sure about that. Am I going to see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Call me when the badges leave.”
“Can we spend some time away from the house?”
“Sure. Just let me know what you’d like to do and we’ll do it.”
I want to go back to Alina with you. “Okay.”
A pause. “I gotta get going. If you have a hard time sleeping, give me a call, okay?”
“All right. Goodnight.” She wanted to get off the phone because the lump in her throat was making it hard for her to talk. There was no way in hell she wanted him to know how lonely she was without him.
“Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Then the phone clicked and sadness enveloped her. She put the phone down and switched off the light then shuffled back to the window and stared at the moon-speckled darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The overpowering stench of mildew permeated the windowless room, and the dank coldness of the floor sent chills through Bobby’s crumpled body. He could feel his abdomen distending rapidly, and his eyes were swollen shut. Every inch of his body ached, even his scalp. Bloody spit drooled from his slack jaws, and icy fear crept into his veins. How the fuck did Victor find out the cunt was back home? Someone tipped him off. When I find out who did, I’m gonna kill— His mind snapped shut. The irony of the situation stabbed at him: he’d never be able to exact revenge. Victor’s gonna kill me. From the way his body felt, he knew there were internal injuries.
A rush of fresh air swirled around him, cooling his inflamed skin. A door shut. Footsteps approaching. A hard kick to his ribs. He grunted and groaned, and then a deep chuckle invaded his ears.
“I told you back in Silverado when you sold the cunt to me that the worst thing you could ever do is deceive me. And you fucking did it. Cabrón!” Another hard kick from Victor.
Bobby tried to speak but his throat was sandpaper, his tongue thick, and blood pooled in his mouth.
A hard laugh. “Not very talkative, are you?” The kick was harder than the last two; pain ripped through him, and he let out a choking gasp. “You underestimated me, and you forgot how powerful the lure of money is. Your contact here reached out to me. I put the feelers out and now you’re a bloody mess. That’s the way life works. You let the bitch throw you. You should’ve been straight with me.”
I should’ve killed you first.
Another crashing kick. “No one.” Bam! “Fucks.” Whack! “Me.” Whack! “Over.” Bam, bam, whack!
Bobby’s groans turned into high-pitched nasally whines. Just fuckin’ kill me, you sonofabitch.
But Victor didn’t. His footfalls grew dimmer as he left the room.
Come back! Kill me, you fucker! Kill me!
Bobby Fenton—sex trafficker, pimp, cold-hearted bastard—was left to bleed out. It could be by the end of the day or after several days, but one thing was certain: he would die an agonizing death.
Darkness descended in the room, and he heard Victor laughing as he closed the door and turned the lock.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Paco leaned against the counter in the enclosed porch, watching Peter grill the steaks in the backyard. Something about the big guy rubbed Paco the wrong way. Chelsea had told him he kept asking her about what
she had to do to the men she’d been forced to be with, and the way he kept staring at her made Paco want to smash his fist into his face. He held back out of respect for Chelsea, but he was itching to rough up the asshole.
“I brought you another beer.” Chelsea’s uncle Dave handed him a Budweiser. Paco lifted his chin and took the can. “How long are you staying in Findlay?”
“Why?” Paco popped the top and took a long drink.
“Just wondering. It seems like you’re watching over Chelsea. Do you think she’s still in danger?” Paco took another sip and looked over at Peter, who waved. Paco turned back to Dave.
Her uncle scratched and rubbed his nose, laughing nervously. “I’m not trying to pry or anything. I think it’s nice of you to stay. It’s just that you’re a long way from southern Colorado. Your family must miss you.” Paco’s gaze penetrated his. He laughed and wiped his hands on his jeans. “But you never know if those horrible men will come back. Chelsea told us there was more than one guy involved with all this.”
Paco took another gulp of his beer.
“There you are,” Sandy said as she came over and curled her arm around Dave. “Are you two getting to know each other?” Her gaze slid up and down Paco’s body. “I can see why Chelsea’s crazy about you.” Her laugh was too shrill, grating on his nerves.
“Paco’s not much of a talker,” Dave said, his gaze darting away from the biker’s.
Paco crushed the can and tossed it in the trash can. “Later.”
As he walked out of the room, their voices grew hushed. When he entered the kitchen, Chelsea was pouring 7-Up into a large punch bowl, her nose wrinkled in a funny little way as her face tightened with concentration. She’s so damn adorable. Her long hair draped around her, and her tight jeans showed off her curves just right. His dick twitched and he adjusted his pants. She set down the two-liter bottle and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, and then a smile spread over her soft, glossy lips.
