Cassie

by deMora, MariaLisa

  A man whirled to face him, raising his own weapon. Garrett stared at the dark circle as it lifted, aiming his own gun in response.

  ***

  Cassie

  They escorted her inside, and she was surprised at how normal everything seemed. To the casual observer, this could be any house. A home. A home with a living area, a kitchen complete with table, coffee maker on the countertop.

  Enzo pointed to a door in the hallway they’d just come through. “I need you to come with me.” Bedlam had disappeared before she’d entered the house, footsteps overhead testifying to his location. She opened the door and stared at the dark stairs in front of her. “Down, please.”

  “Is Faith down there?” She glanced over her shoulder in time to see him nod. “Okay.”

  His directions to the room Faith was in were brusque and it was only moments before Cassie stood in front of a closed door. He reached out and twisted the knob, and Cassie saw a young woman through the opening right away. She was bruised and bloody, but from the look on her face, anger held more sway than fear. Thank God. Faith was okay. Would be okay. I just have to get us out of here.

  Enzo chuckled, the sound grating on Cassie’s nerves. “I wondered how long it would hold you. Very well done, Faith Inez.”

  Faith ignored him and stared at Cassie. “You’re here.”

  Startled at the sense of recognition Faith gave her, Cassie opened her arms to the girl she’d grown to know only through stories, recognized her face because she looked at a younger version in the painting on her wall every day, and had spoken to once years ago in a conversation she didn’t expect the girl to remember. “Of course I am, sweetheart. I’m here.”

  Faith bolted from her position in the corner and barreled into Cassie, knocking her back a step with the force of her embrace. “You’re here. Oh, God, Cassie, you’re here. Why? Why are you here?”

  She turned them, holding Faith close to her. Glaring at Enzo, Cassie demanded, “You have to let us go. Have to.”

  “I cannot.” He pushed the door closed with one foot and took a step towards them. “This is hard, I know, but it’s necessary.”

  “Do you have kids?” She needed to find an argument that hit deep, one that would make him see them as people. “People you love?”

  “Yes, and before you try to appeal to my sense of gallantry, you should know that my children are why I do this today. I need to secure a future for them, and it is for them that this must happen.” He shook his head, eyes on Faith’s shaking shoulders. Cassie felt wetness at her neck and knew Faith had started crying. “The Rebels are not the innocents you believe them to be. They are not above using family to secure what is needed. This is my response. Trust me, it is not my first choice, but when all others have failed, one must use the last resort.”

  “I don’t understand.” And that was on her, she knew. She’d fallen into a relationship with a biker, an artist, sure, but he’d been a biker first. And she hadn’t taken time to get to know that side of him. She’d played at being a biker chick, encouraged by a gentle old man she couldn’t imagine hurting anyone. But she’d seen Tug’s gun many times, seen him watch people who got too near them, and she wondered now at the things he might have done through the years. A sense of anger filled her at her own disloyal thoughts. Tug never hurt me. Neither did Hoss. No matter what they might have done, she loved them both. Differently of course, but she loved them and would—I’d die for them. She tightened her arms around the sobbing girl. I’ll die for her. “But it doesn’t matter. If they’ve done something to you, then either you earned it, or you’re earning it right now. People like the man I love don’t start something without cause. So what did you do, Enzo? What did you do?”

  “My transgression was years ago. I thought it was in my past.” He shook his head. “My family is scattered, fled through the passing of time. I want them back, but until I clear my honor with the Rebels, I cannot earn my way back into my family.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.” Cassie frowned at him. “If they’re your family, then they’re always family. You don’t have to earn anything.”

  He smiled, that same anguish-ridden grimace she’d seen from him outside. “Our version of family is somewhat different. For you, it’s love and blood, and always there.” He held out one hand, palm first, showing her a deep, twisting scar along his palm. “For me, family is an earned thing. I need to make my mark again. We are not blood, but a family nonetheless.”

  “They’re mob, Cassie.” Faith’s voice was soft, sodden with tears still. “We’re his blood debt to regain whatever rank he’s lost.”

  “You are a good student, Faith Inez. Your papa must be proud of you.” Enzo folded his arms across his chest. “I wish my daughter were as brave.”

  “It doesn’t matter, though, does it?” Faith disengaged from Cassie, turning to face their captor. “You’re going to kill us anyway.” Cassie shoved a hand into her pocket, fingers tracing the outline of the device there. She’d brought it with her intentionally, not sure if she could use it, but the man’s next words solidified her resolve.

  “It is likely.” He tipped his head toward them, and Cassie’s blood ran cold at his casual admission. “I had hoped to spare you by trading you for the woman, but that did not work as planned.”

  The door burst open behind him. He turned and a gun appeared in his hand. Cassie pushed Faith behind her and pulled the Taser from her pocket, thumbing the switch to turn it on. She lunged forwards and shoved the device into the middle of Enzo’s back, pulled the trigger and tried to keep from contacting his body, feeling the burning surge of electricity along the skin of her hand like a warning. She looked over his shoulder expecting to see one of the men from upstairs, instead seeing a blood-covered boy no older than Faith, his weapon up and leveled at her.

  ***

  Hoss

  “Ping it again.” He paced the length of the kitchen, glaring down at the toes of his boots. Pulling in a deep breath he stopped, fists clenched and said, “Know what, fuck this noise. I’m going.” Mason stepped in front of him and Hoss shook his head. “I listened to you and did what you wanted. I stayed here. It’s killin’ me, brother. Killin’ me and it ain’t gettin’ me one fuckin’ bit closer to my girl.” He lifted his chin. “My woman. Mason, you can’t ask me to do this.”

  “My boy’s right there, too, brother. We’ve got men approaching the house now, and you don’t want to be on the road when it goes down. You’re gonna wanna know when it happens, one way or the other.” Mason’s expression was soft, compassionate. “We’re waiting here, together. And once we know, we’ll lay a path. Right now, we need to wait, and believe.”

  “Believe?” Hoss wasn’t certain he had it in him to believe in anything. “In what?”

  “That we gave our kids what they need to get through this. Trust that they’re coming out the other end stronger than they went in. Confidence in what we’ve wrought, that’s what we need to believe.” Mason’s hand landed on his shoulder, heavy and hard, holding him tight. That grip was an oath between them. If Hoss couldn’t stand on his own, Mason would help, and if Hoss couldn’t walk, Mason would carry him. “Believe with me, brother.”

  “And my woman? Cassie? You don’t know her, Mason. She’s more fragile than anyone would think.”

  “Untruth,” Myron chimed in, lifting his head from where he’d been studying the video feed from the drone he had hovering near the clubhouse.

  “Untruth? No, man. You’re wrong.” Hoss’ head swung back and forth. “She’s mine, through and through, but I went into this with my eyes wide open.”

  “Watch this.” Myron gestured to him and Hoss walked around the island to stand at his shoulder. Mason crowded in behind him, Tug on the other side of Myron. “Gimme a sec to queue it up.”

  The screen froze, then a small video screen expanded to the edges, blurry footage of the clubhouse captured in a still. Myron clicked and the video started playing. “No sound, but we have Garrett’s
phone speaker, so I’ve paired it up as best I could. The drone was closer than I thought. Found this when I logged back into the unit.”

  Hoss watched as Cassie idled up the driveway, head held high. She glanced at the man on the porch, then dismissed him to turn her bike and park. From the corner of his eye, he saw Mason nodding in approval. He stared at the screen, picking apart her behaviors until he saw her fear. Saw it start to take her over as he’d seen happen more than once, but then she rallied, rising above the wave that would have swamped her only weeks ago.

  “Damn, girl,” Tug murmured admiringly as Cassie offered herself for Faith. There’d been no hesitation, no pause to consider, just straight up courage driving her forwards to save his girl. “Kick his ass, honey.”

  Then the door closed, shutting her inside a building with at least six men, one of which was certifiably crazy. Bedlam. He remembered his conversation with Blackie and shuddered. Shoulda let him take care of the man. Blackie had mentioned it casually, the idea of snuffing a man coming up in an offhand way that Hoss hadn’t missed. He’d shut it down at the time, erring on the side of caution and Blackie had backed off. Shoulda let him.

  “Untruth,” Myron reminded him why the video was important, and Hoss leaned back, scrubbing across his jaw, he covered his mouth for a moment.

  “Untruth,” he agreed. “That took courage in spades, and fuck me, but I’m proud of her at the same moment I want to beat her ass for putting herself in that position.” Teeth clenched, he forced back the roar of anger that wanted to escape. “Fuck.”

  “Hey.” Myron’s voice was urgent, and Hoss focused on the screen. There were more than a dozen bikes rolling up the driveway towards the house. From the angle the drone was at, they could see three men head out the back door at a run, trying to keep the building between them and the RWMC members coming in force to take back what was theirs. “Three down.” Myron tapped on the keyboard for a moment, and Hoss watched a man pause after getting off his bike. Gunny looked at his phone then up in the air, unerringly finding the drone. He gave a thumbs-up and must have given an order because five men separated from the main group and headed around the house at a dead run, guns in hand. “That leaves three.”

  The men spread out, approaching the front and back entrances with caution. Arms locked on the counter, Hoss leaned towards the screen, feeling Mason and Tug adopting the same position beside him. They watched as their men disappeared inside, all movement ceasing. Myron changed the pitch of the drone, and they saw the smaller group already on their way back, dark forms lying on the field behind them.

  A man came out the front, strolling as if he had all the time in the world. The image was blurry, but Hoss watched as, without looking up, the man offered the drone a view of his fist, middle finger raised. He headed for a bike parked near the side and threw a leg over, straddling the machine.

  “Fuck.” Myron muttered and sent a message to someone. But before anyone could respond, the man rolled out on the bike, aiming at the road where he turned south, quickly moving beyond where the drone could see him. “I don’t want to leave the site until we know.” He sent another message and the group coming back from the field moved faster, rounding the house and mounting their bikes, angling out into the road following the lone rider.

  Hoss knew, had a premonition, that they’d never catch the man. He expected to find it was Bedlam, and that wouldn’t bode well for anyone’s future, Freed Soldiers or Rebels.

  Then he forgot the man, gaze fixed on the front porch of an insignificant club’s house in backwoods Ohio, as the two most important women in his life walked out of their own accord from the shadows and into the light. Faith’s face tipping up as the heat of the sunshine shone down on her.

  Garrett was just behind them and Mason sucked in a breath as filled with relief as Hoss’ gut felt.

  They both watched as the boy walked up to the girl and wrapped his arms around her, inky stains on his clothing exposing his deadly work in the darkness of the house’s basement. The girl turned in his arms and threw herself against him, cradling his head to her neck, pressing closer until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Cassie watched them for a moment, answering Gunny’s questions without turning her head away from these kids who would never again be children, having earned their adulthood in a trial by fire not one man would wish on them.

  He saw Gunny reach out to Cassie, puzzled for a moment when she took something from him. An instant later, Myron’s phone rang and Hoss understood. He lifted it from the countertop and, without preamble, without introduction, he told Cassie, “I owe you my life.”

  Come home to me

  Cassie

  Phone pressed tightly to her ear, craving to hear more of the voice of the man she loved, she kept her eyes on Garrett and Faith. They hadn’t moved, hadn’t shifted a muscle since latching on to the other, and she waited for one of them to fall apart. She heard their murmurs, mouths pressed close to each other’s ears, and knew whatever was said were words meant for them alone.

  “I couldn’t let anything happen to her.” Heat settled between her shoulder blades in the shape of a hand, and she knew the big man next to her was steadying her, instinctively knowing she needed it. “You love her so much, Hoss.”

  “God. Are you okay, Cassie?” The concern for her bled through his tone and she felt her lips curl up into a small smile. “Baby, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I am. Everything’s…everyone’s okay.” Clearing her throat, she told him what had happened, needing to get it out of her head because if she tried to keep it to herself it would fester and poison her. “Garrett saved us. They were supposed to release her for me, but that one man,” she shivered, remembering his dead gaze, “Bedlam, he threw everything for a loop. We’re so lucky Garrett came when he did.” Cassie lowered her voice. “Hoss, he had to do terrible things, but Faith’s safe. I’m safe. He had to. Oh, he had to…you don’t know.”

  “Oh, baby. Whatever he had to do, I’m okay with it, and he’ll be okay, too. His dad, the whole club, we’ll make sure. Faith—” His voice broke and he stopped talking, quiet except for the noisy rushes of air as he fought for control.

  Cassie shook her head vehemently, denying his fears. She forced confidence into her voice as she told him, “She’s okay. Nothing happened, Hoss. Nothing bad. She’s got a bloody nose and a fat lip, and I think she dislocated her thumb.” The hand disappeared from her back and the big man stepped around her. “Hey,” she called, then heard Hoss in her ear.

  “Gunny’s checking on her injuries. He heard what you said. We all did. It’s okay, Cassie. I promise you it’s okay.”

  Faith pulled back from Garrett and nodded, holding her hand out to Gunny with a wince. Garrett’s hands didn’t leave her waist as he deftly turned her and then tugged her body backwards, settling her back to his front so he could watch what Gunny did over her shoulder. At a word from Gunny, Garrett lifted a hand to Faith’s jaw, and turned her head to press into his neck. Gunny gave her thumb a jerk and Faith cried out, Garrett’s voice soothing her gently.

  “See, he’s taking care of her.” Hoss’ words were soft. “They’ll bring you back to me, baby. Come home, come to me.”

  Cassie nodded. “Yes. Okay, yes. My bike—”

  “The boys will take care of that. They’ll bring Garrett’s bike back, too. Faith’s car is there. Gunny’ll drive you and the kids. Let the boys take care of everything else.” He paused, and his voice was rough when he continued. “Scared the fuck out of me, watching you walk into that place, baby. Come home to me.”

  Silence continued on the line for a moment while Cassie wrestled to get her emotions under control. “I can’t wait to see you.” She resolved to not bring up how they’d parted, but it seemed Hoss had different instincts.

  “You’re in my heart and soul, Cassie. Don’t matter what is said or what happens. Don’t matter how far away from you I am, in my heart I’m with you. I’m always with you, baby. Hold me ther
e, keep me in your heart, and give me a chance to make it up to you. I wanna make my home with you, wherever you are. I want you. I wanna build my life in your heart, so you know you’re never alone. Never an afterthought. And I’ll never,”—his voice hardened, growing firm with steely resolve—“not ever take your choices away again. You’ve had enough of that for a lifetime, so I’ll do my best to learn how to be what you need. To learn you. Cassie, honey, I love you. Come home to me.”

  Eyes closed, she swallowed hard as she lifted a hand to cover her mouth, trying to keep her sobs silent, not wanting to let him know how his words had affected her. She tried twice before she trusted her voice with just his name, hoping it would carry everything she wanted to say. “Hoss.”

  “Baby, turn around. Myron, take it down, yeah?” A humming sound grew in volume, not something she’d even noticed before, but now it was impossible to ignore. She turned to see a tiny black drone hovering just off the porch. “I see you, Cassie. Don’t hide that shit from me. You give it to me and I’ll figure out how I deal with it when you do. You hear me?” She nodded, staring at the device that looked more like a child’s toy than what she knew it was. “Now, tell me you love me again. I wanna see that pretty face as you do.”

  She stared at the drone, noises around her falling away, the men walking in and out of the house not mattering, even the murmuring of Faith and Garrett shifting to the background until all she heard was her own heart, beating fast in her chest, the echoing susurration of blood flowing through her body. Meditation had taught her many methods to focus her thoughts, and she used every one of them to ensure she gave Hoss what he needed from her in this moment. She forced aside the fear, isolating the terror that remained by being surrounded by so many men who looked exactly like their captors and locking it away. It might come back out to tweak her nerves later, but she wanted Hoss to see her strong and clear-headed, ready for whatever life could throw at her. At them.