Red Hot Bikers, Rock Stars and Bad Boys

by Cassia Leo

  No.

  Definitely not.

  He went to her. “I’m going to tell you one last time, Isabella. Leave.”

  She shook her head defiantly. “I won’t.”

  He turned away, dragging a hand over his face. “I warned you.” When he turned, he drove his fist into her pretty little face.

  She shrieked, backing away from him, hand to her cheekbone, where he’d clocked her.

  He laughed. “You stupid bitch. Get away from me.”

  The look in her eyes made him laugh harder. She was so surprised. Hadn’t she been listening to a word he’d said?

  And finally, she left, scurrying down the steps and out the front door.

  *

  Cathy felt like everything was closing in on her. The guest room, the patio, the furniture.

  Eli was out there somewhere. He knew that she’d had sex with Heath. He was hurt. Angry, probably, and she’d have to deal with all of that.

  But she couldn’t handle that right now.

  She had to get out of the house, out from underneath the ceilings. She ran from the guest room, outside into the storm, into the rain.

  She tried to run so fast that she didn’t have to think about it.

  Heath her brother?

  She couldn’t understand why she hadn’t seen it before. She knew that Daddy and Mama Galloway were in a romantic relationship—albeit a completely messed-up one, considering that Daddy was always beating Mama. And Mama Galloway had always treated her and Heath like they were brother and sister. She and Heath had often slept in the same bed up until they were seven or eight years old. They’d been so young.

  God.

  She had a memory. It was so strong, and so awful that it stopped her.

  Daddy at the top of the stairs. Do you know what you’ve been kissing? Do you know who—

  That was why he’d tried to keep them apart. He’d known.

  But why hadn’t he said something? Why hadn’t he sat her down and explained that Heath was her brother?

  Daddy was probably ashamed of the fact that he’d procreated with Mama. Her family had a touch of racism, deep seeded. She’d always seen it in the way that Matt had treated Heath. Even though it was ridiculous. Heath was dark-skinned, but he was Caucasian.

  But now she could see it, and it was so obvious. Heath was her brother. She’d lost her virginity to her brother.

  She’d spent most of her life obsessed with him.

  He was the greatest love of her life.

  She couldn’t bear it.

  She ran again, fast as she could, screaming into the rain, shaking her fists at the lightning. She wanted to express what she felt physically, to somehow manifest her torment and agony. But there was no way to do it. No matter how she ran, or how she screamed—until her throat was sore and her voice was a rasp—or how she sobbed, or how often she tripped and fell, beating her hands on the ground, gnashing her teeth together. There was no way to let it out.

  It was going to consume her.

  She ran into the road, dodging headlights when they came for her, insensible to anything except her own anguish.

  It was one physical feeling that brought her back.

  Hot wetness on her thigh, leaking from her body.

  She thought it was what Heath had left in her, but the lighting flashed, and she saw that it was bright red.

  Blood.

  The baby, she thought.

  *

  Eli crossed his arms over his chest.

  “It’s a subchrionic hemorrhage,” said the doctor. “They aren’t uncommon in early pregnancy, and they often resolve themselves on their own, but it could be a worry. She may miscarry.”

  Cathy was in another room, her eyes staring senselessly at the ceiling. His sister Isabella had come home with a black eye which Heath had given her. Apparently, after Heath had finished fucking Eli’s girlfriend, Heath had beaten up Eli’s sister. Then he’d run off. Isabella confirmed that Heath was gone.

  Cathy was numb and miserable the last time that Heath had left. Eli remembered how depressed she’d been.

  It wasn’t fair, Eli thought. It wasn’t fair that Heath got to destroy everything and run away, leaving Eli to try to put together the pieces. Why should he have to? What did he owe Cathy, anyway? Infidelity was cause enough for divorce. He could certainly just break up with her.

  The doctor was still talking. “I recommend bed rest. She should avoid any strenuous activity or movement. No sex. And we’ll watch her and see what happens.”

  Eli nodded. Whatever the doctor said. Maybe he’d just relay the information to Matt, and tell him that Cathy was his responsibility now.

  “She seems… upset,” said the doctor.

  That was an understatement.

  “I’m sure you understand that hormonal changes during pregnancy can create emotional symptoms in women,” the doctor said. “So for her sake, and for the sake of the baby, it might be best to avoid subjects that would put her in a passion.”

  Great. So, it would be a bad idea for him to confront her about the fact he’d caught her cheating on him. That was absolutely excellent. Eli rubbed his forehead, sighing.

  “Would you like to see her?” asked the doctor.

  Not really. I wish I’d never seen her. I wish I’d never stopped the car for her, never let her kiss me on that cliff, never pursued her. “Yes.”

  The doctor let him into Cathy’s room.

  She smiled when she saw him. “Eli, you’re here.”

  He went to her bedside, staring down at her pretty face.

  She reached out for his hand. Her other hand rested on her belly.

  Where his child was growing. His child.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “About Heath. You should know that what you saw was a… goodbye, and—”

  “Doctor says it’s best to avoid subjects that might upset you, Cathy.” He was trying to stay angry with her, but there was something about this woman that made it next to impossible. She was his wild slip of a girl, ready for anything, so alive it hurt. He stroked her cheek.

  “But I don’t deserve you. I never have. I’ve been horrible to you. Always.”

  “You’ve been amazing,” he said. He squeezed her hand. “Try not to overexert yourself, okay? For the baby’s sake.” She was right, he thought bitterly. He’d forgive her anything.

  ***

  2013

  Linton burst into Thera’s room, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Heath’s gone out for the evening, and I have all the keys to this room.” He held them out to her. “We won’t be disturbed this time, cousin.”

  Thera bounded off the bed. He hadn’t tied her down this time, and she wasn’t about to let him do anything to her without a fight. “Stay back, Linton. I’ll hurt you if you come near me.”

  He giggled. “Don’t be silly. I’ll hurt you when I come near you. That’s why I’m here. I want you to scream at me, begging me to stop.” His eyes had lit up at the thought of it.

  Thera was disgusted. “Why are you so sick?”

  “Father says it’s because no one ever loved me,” said Linton. “But I don’t care about love. Love makes people weak. It’s easier never to care about anyone else.”

  Thera collided with the wall of the room. “What if I loved you?”

  “It would be too late,” said Linton. “Besides, you don’t love me. I could make you say it, though. If I wanted. I could make you do anything I wanted you to do.” He pulled a pocket knife out and slid up the blade.

  It glinted dully in the scant light of the room.

  “Gage!” she screamed. “Help!”

  Linton laughed. “Oh, I told you, there are no keys out there. He can’t get in to save you.”

  Thera looked around for a weapon, something she could use to slow Linton down, even stop him.

  The room was sparse. Nothing on the walls, no furniture except her bed, the bedside table, and the lamp.

  There were books—paperbacks that Heath had given he
r to assuage her boredom, but they were hardly heavy enough.

  Linton lunged for her.

  She dove out of the way. “Gage!”

  He grabbed her ankle, tugging her towards him.

  She kicked him with her free foot.

  He squealed in pain and rage.

  She scrabbled to her feet, reaching for the only thing that could possibly be a weapon in the room. The lamp.

  Linton snarled, coming for her.

  She smashed the lamp over his head.

  The room was bathed in darkness.

  Linton didn’t make a sound.

  Had she knocked him out?

  She didn’t want to say anything for fear of letting him know where she was in the room.

  She didn’t move.

  She didn’t breathe.

  She waited.

  She could hear sounds from outside now, the insects of early summer singing songs to each other in the night. The breeze whistling against the farmhouse.

  The floorboards creaked under footsteps.

  Linton?

  The doorknob rattled. “Thera?”

  It was Gage, outside of the room. Did she dare to answer him?

  She was afraid to even let out the breath she was holding. She peered into the darkness, waiting.

  The outline of windows above her began to grow clearer. Her eyes were adjusting to the dark.

  “There you are,” whispered Linton’s voice.

  Apparently, his eyes had adjusted too.

  She screamed.

  The door rattled. “Thera!” Gage yelled.

  Linton’s fingers crawled over her torso like spiders. He moved over her, propping himself up, so that his face was close to hers.

  Half his face was swallowed in shadow, but she could see one eye dancing as he leered at her.

  She cringed, a sob escaping her throat. “Linton, please.”

  A loud bang. The door strained against its hinges. Apparently, Gage was charging it, trying to break it down.

  Linton’s knife moved quickly, winking at her.

  She felt it bite into her flesh, just below her collarbone.

  She cried out.

  But that nick had just been an accident, she realized. Linton was using the knife to cut her clothes open. “Stop,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

  Another bang at the door. Would Gage be able to knock it down?

  Would he be in time?

  The cool metal of the knife against her chest. But not cutting her. Caressing. Exploring her curves.

  She flailed out, striking Linton on the side of the head.

  And he stabbed her.

  Right under her rib cage. The knife was a small blade, maybe two inches. Half of it was buried in her skin.

  She made a choking, scraping cry. Her breath started to come in gasps.

  She could see the knife sticking out of her.

  And only then did it hurt. Bright, angry pain.

  Linton tugged the knife out. “Look what you made me do.”

  Blood gushed out of her wound.

  Another bang at the door. It groaned. And splintered. “Thera?”

  “Help,” she moaned. “Help me.”

  “Shut up,” said Linton, pushing at the tatters of her shirt, baring her skin. He put his finger in her wound and held it up, mesmerized by her blood. He smiled in wonder. Then he caressed her, smearing blood over her skin.

  She was falling apart. “Gage, please!”

  The door banged again. The wood splintered further.

  And gave way.

  Gage tumbled into the room, and light from the hallway spilled inside.

  Linton looked up, like an animal of prey caught in a spotlight. He froze for a second, and then he leapt up and ran, yelping in fear.

  Gage went to her. He fumbled with her shirt, trying to cover her.

  She was stunned for a second, too horrified by all of it.

  But then she realized.

  This was her chance to get away. Heath wasn’t in the house. The door was open.

  She jumped to her feet and took off, leaping over the splinters of the door and into the hallway.

  “Thera, wait,” called Gage after her.

  She didn’t pay any attention to him. She had to get away. She had to stop this.

  Linton was at the top of the stairs, brandishing his knife, a wild look in his eyes.

  She stopped short.

  “Stay back, cousin,” said Linton. “You won’t hurt me. That big dunce Gage won’t either. I’ll kill him.”

  Gage appeared behind her. “Linton, put down the knife.”

  Linton waved the knife in Gage’s face. “Not fair, you know. I’m his son. Why did he love you and not me?”

  Gage put Thera firmly behind him and advanced on Linton. “Put it down. We’ll talk about it.”

  Linton slashed at Gage.

  Gage caught him by the arm.

  Linton twisted, driving the blade into Gage’s bicep.

  Gage yelled, shaking Linton off.

  Linton lost his balance. He screamed.

  Gage grabbed for him.

  But it was too late. Linton was tumbling backwards, free falling.

  He hit the steps with a sickening crunch.

  His body folded over itself, rolling down the steps as if it had become boneless.

  Then he was motionless.

  Thera put a hand over her mouth. “Oh god.”

  Gage looked at her. “You okay?”

  She nodded.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  She pointed at Linton. “I think he’s…”

  Gage’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He started down the steps. He knelt next to Linton, touching his neck.

  “Is he dead?” said Thera.

  Gage recoiled, shuddering.

  “Oh god,” she said. “Oh god.” No, did it matter? She had to get out of here. She sucked in breath, trying to gather herself together, and started down the steps.

  Gage was in her way.

  “Let me by,” she said. “Let me go.”

  “J-just wait,” said Gage. “You can’t— I don’t—”

  “Come with me, then,” she said. “But let’s go.”

  The door to the farmhouse opened, and Heath walked inside.

  No. She’d been so close. She sat down on the steps and began to sob.

  Heath looked at Gage. At Thera. At Linton. He looked stricken.

  “Heath, I didn’t…” Gage shoved his hands in his pockets. “He was hurting her.”

  Heath walked up the steps to Linton’s body. He knelt down next to the boy. He took Linton by the chin and turned the boy’s lifeless face to him.

  It was quiet. No one moved. No one spoke.

  Heath straightened, letting go of Linton.

  “It was an accident,” said Gage.

  Heath smiled hollowly. “Yes, of course it was.” He looked at Thera. “You were protecting her.”

  “Yes,” said Gage.

  Heath walked down the rest of the steps. At the bottom, he thrust a hand in his hair and turned in a circle. “Take the girl back to her room and lock her in.”

  “No,” said Thera. She shot a pleading look at Gage. “No, please, you have to help me get out of here.”

  Gage’s jaw worked. “Heath, we can’t just keep her here. Besides, the door’s broken.”

  Heath barked out a laugh. “Broke down the door for her, did you?”

  “Linton was… He had a knife. She’s bleeding. She might need stitches or—”

  “Take her to Cathy’s room, then,” said Heath. “Lock her in there.”

  Gage hesitated.

  “Please,” whispered Thera. “Help me.”

  Heath’s voice rose. “Lock her in, because I’m calling the police about my dead son, and when they get here, she can’t be anywhere around.”

  “No,” said Gage. “This can’t go on. We have to let her go.”

  Heath turned on Gage. “You’ll lock her in, Gage. Because if you don’t, I’l
l tell the police who’s actually responsible for the fact that Linton is lying here dead. And you won’t be able to help her at all if you’re in jail.”

  Thera covered her mouth. Heath was too horrible to exist. She began to sob in earnest.

  Gage clenched his hands into fists. “You manipulate me? Me?”

  “Do it,” said Heath. “And keep her quiet.”

  Gage shook his head at Heath. But he turned to Thera and gently helped her up. “Come on.”

  *

  Thera held up the shirt that Gage had given her to wear so that it bared her stomach. He was fitting butterfly bandages over the place that Linton had stabbed her. It was still bleeding, but Gage was stanching the blood as he worked.

  Thera felt strangely calm. It was like she’d expelled so much emotion during the ordeal with Linton that now there was nothing left. She peered around the room. “This was my mother’s room?”

  “Yeah,” said Gage. “I’m surprised he wanted you in here. He keeps it like a shrine, won’t change anything. Sometimes, he sleeps in here.”

  “He’s disturbed,” said Thera, but she wasn’t upset by it. It was simply a fact. Nothing bothered her right now. “He’s obsessed with her. He’s gone absolutely insane.”

  “Maybe,” said Gage.

  “You can’t still be defending him,” said Thera.

  Gage sighed. He began taping gauze over her wound. “I don’t know anymore.”

  “We could go to the police anyway,” said Thera. “We’ll tell them our side of the story. They’ll believe us over Heath.”

  Gage looked over her shoulder, staring into space. “I pushed him.”

  “You didn’t,” she said. “It was an accident.”

  “It was an accident that he died,” said Gage. “But it wasn’t an accident that I pushed him.” He finished bandaging her. “There, hopefully that will be okay.”

  She touched it. She lowered the t-shirt. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  “I couldn’t let you bleed to death.”

  “Not for that,” she said. “Well, not only for that. For everything. For saving me from Linton.” She peered up at him and reached for his hand.