Then a split second later I’m up. I trip once. But still, I’m on my feet another split second after that, and I’m running. My feet slam against the condensation covered concrete floor, and it’s difficult, but I slip and slide my way across the room and when I finally make it up the wooden stairs and reach the door, I cry out. Hell, I may have even laughed, I’m so excited when the doorknob on the door at the top of the rickety wooden stairs turns in my hand.
“Thank you, God,” I mutter before going to shoulder open the door.
I never saw him. I never heard him, I never felt him. Fuck, I think I forgot him the second the door opened. But I did see Roxy. I did see Roxy step from the eerie light illuminating from behind her in the well-lit house. She almost looks angelic. The thought crosses my mind just before her words strike out across the basement-like room.
“Don’t I clean up enough messes? Between the both of you, I swear to fucking God, Ben. Don’t I stay busy enough?” Her hands land on her hips at the same time she begins tapping her toe.
And like I said, Ben was forgotten. So when I hear him, and his face is directly beside mine...oh—I scream. Like a bitch. You can kiss my ass; I scream. Of course, until it registers I need the information that’s being exchanged here.
“Did you clean up the last mess? Did you finish it? Is he still alive?” Ben’s voice circles my mind the second or third time.
“No, I didn’t. And yes, he is.” I didn’t realize I was even holding my breath until the moment she speaks the words. But she continues. “There’s been a change in plans. At least until we know what’s gonna happen when he wakes up. I didn’t want to burn any bridges. That was never a part of my plan, Ben! Never!” Roxy’s light blue eyes can be seen, even in the dimly lit stairwell as she glances down at me after her accusing words ring off the narrow walls.
Her tone is cold as a tomb the next moment she speaks. “I’m not gonna be put on the backburner. Not by either of you. Do you understand me, Ben Cain? Not by you, nor by Jacques.”
I feel his warm breath stirring the ringlets in my hair that hang around my face as he chuckles again. I’m sure my unruly hair is even more so from the humidity in the room and the time I spent in it while I was unconscious for however long. I bring my hands up beside my face and unconsciously tuck my hair behind my ears for reasons I can’t explain. But it’s probably ‘cause of the look of disgust on Roxy’s face when she finishes eyeballing me from head to toe. Then her eyes glance back to Ben’s over my left shoulder.
“I’m not just a pawn in this fucking game anymore. Jacques and I talked; he was headed to my house. Before you and your thug friends wrecked his bike! None of this was supposed to happen!” She cries, and when I see the tears along with her bittersweet words I hear breaking off, my heart constricts within in my chest. And I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
Her blue eyes appear the color of mercury when they narrow back on mine. “Did Ben tell you what he did to your sister? I had to take her to the hospital the first time; he wouldn’t even do it. I at least tried to get her help. It’s not my fault she kept bleeding. She wasn’t supposed to die.” Her words are spoken as taunts. And for some reason, this fact confuses me. Because the words alone hurt enough. So I don’t understand…
“Why?” I whisper as my heart shatters before barely faltering to a still beat in its cage. “The baby?” I ask as the hot tears well up in the four corners of my eyes before scalding a searing path down my face. I back away from the both of them, backing down towards the basement at the bottom of the stairs. Stupid, but it’s my only choice at this point. And I quickly try and remember if I saw any windows or doors in the room below, but I can’t think straight. My mind is going too fast in circles. My thoughts start mimicking the pins scattering on the floor again and I can’t seem to find my lungs and tell them to breathe.
I grip the sides of my head around a headache that’s been lurking around the edges of my subconscious, hoping the pressure of my hands will ease the ache. And when my eyes fly back open, suddenly I’m not hurting anymore. I pull my shoulders back and slowly breathe in, checking for any sharp aches or any pain. I mean, other than my heart, or the spot where it used to beat, I’m not hurting anymore.
‘Cause I’m pissed, and I allow that fury and that anger to swell inside me. And when the adrenaline is pumping fast enough through my veins and I can hear the blood whooshing past my ears, I stop cutting old scars across my heart with the painful memories I keep in my arsenal so that by the time I feel so pissed, I’m so angry and my tumultuous thoughts are the only thing fueling me, I might as well be ten foot tall and fucking bulletproof.
I glance around the room after making my way back to the wooden chair Ben was sitting on when I awoke. And my thoughts are like little fast moving molecules. Only the faster they get...the more they seem to almost...still. So I focus my attention on that stillness, instead of my racing thoughts.
“I’m not worried,” I tell the both of them honestly, in a calm tone. ‘Cause I don’t have to lie my way through this. Not anymore. I’m suddenly aware of a very few, but very certain things. One being I’m not going to be forgotten about. Jacques’ SOS brothers were there. They saw Ben take me. And 'King' was already there. Even Dreads said so on our way downstairs before all hell broke loose. So as soon as the stuff with Jacques is figured out, they’ll remember me. They’ve fucking got to. “As far as I’m concerned, I have all the time in the world.” After settling my weight evenly in the chair, I lean back. And when my eyes narrow on Ben’s across the room, I throw out the only card I’ve got. And even now, I know it’s probably a shit hand. But it’s the last one I have up my sleeve. “You can’t afford to kill me, Ben. You need a hostage. The first my father hears about me, he’s coming. He already knew, before the meeting you tried to sabotage. He just hadn’t been told I was his daughter yet. But he will be told. Oh, he will be.”
I barely notice it’s my dark sinister chuckle when I hear it echo back to me in the small space as I look from Ben to Roxy. I also hadn’t realized how quiet it’d gotten as I spoke. My harsh tone strikes out again...almost startling even me. “Whoever killed my sister will die. At my hands. And that’s if the both of you live when my pops finds out he has a daughter. I’ve done my homework. Have you? I don’t think you paid attention then, ‘cause 'King' O’Malley is about one thing after his MC. And that’s family. Who just so happens to be me. Only me, aside from one nephew since his mother’s—my grandmother’s—passing. You two are fucked. If you aren’t dead by the time he gets done with you, chances are you will be once the NYC chapter of SOS figures out this one’s bullshit.” I nod, motioning towards Rox, and tell them both truthfully.
I can’t think about my sister right now. I can’t mourn the loss of her. Not yet. As much as it hurts the old scars around my hurt. I can’t mourn Eden. Not yet.
Besides, I’ll need that fuel for another day.
I glance around the room slowly. And when my eyes land on Roxy’s, I can’t help it.
It’s like, I see Jacques in my head do it, and so I do it. I smirk before winking at the bitch, completely pulling off the badass loner girl act I’m shooting for. “Roxy? Bell? That’s your name, right?” I snicker and I mean for it sound every bit as snarky as it does. “I don’t know what to tell you, sweetheart. For someone who didn’t want a lot of people killed, you sure are standing there with a lot of blood on your hands.” I shake my head and glance down. And it’s then that I see my cross. His cross. And I don’t know how it got here, but it’s here. And it just became my saving fucking grace. I slide the toe of my navy Chuck over it, trying to keep it concealed. Suddenly its guarded position takes precedence over my very own. And when I look back up at Roxy, I keep my thoughts on that anger. On that fire burning deep within me; the one that’s keeping me going. The only thing that’s keeping me going. And it mirrors a sunburn but from the inside, it’s tight and taut, making me feel stretched.
I burn my gaze into Roxy’s, and gro
wl my words at her. ‘Cause I’m still pissed. Above all, I’m still more than pissed. And that feels better right now than feeling the hurt. “If I were you, I’d stop giving me the evil eye and start fighting with him.” I nod towards Ben standing beside her. “And try to finish the job you started on the Blakeney girls when you killed Eden and the little niece or nephew of mine she carried. My last name may be O’Malley, but I’m still my momma’s daughter. And I’m still my grams’ kid.” I mutter the words from the bottom of my heart. The only words I know for certain. Other than these two are fucked—my fate aside.
“Because you two are fucked, either way. You were fucked the moment Ben decided to take me from the NYC chapter of Sons of Silencers. My question is, how does it feel? Knowing that?” I chuckle.
Author Bio
I was born and raised in Louisiana… and No, I do NOT live in a bayou, I actually see the beaches on the gulf coast more than I see a bayou, lol. I started writing poems and short stories very early in my life. You know, for the Michael’s and Leo’s and Nick’s in my life. I've been a book hoarder since I was eleven years old, but then a couple years ago something wonderful happened! The 50 Shades of Grey craze brought to life my inner smut whore and I commenced to read anything and everything smut affiliated. When reading wasn't enough anymore and I noticed that so many of the authors of my favorite indie authors and their books weren't getting the exposure their work deserved, I turned it into a mission, starting my own blog, buying their books and reading them one by one. I then wrote my reviews for my blog and didn't hold back in writing them (Hell yeah those motherfuckers are profanity laden). I've never done a single thing in my life halfway. I always go all in. After the success of my Blog, and the insistence of one of my bestest friends, my sister from another mister, Trina Taylor of Bad & Dirty Books, I was ready to finally take the plunge and see if I could write a book that was worth a damn. I'm a Southern girl to my core, a self-proclaimed smut whore, and I keep hearing that I’m an author, but honestly… I don’t believe the rumors, lol. I don’t feel like a kickass bitch spittin’ out lyrics, or stories, like a motherfuckin’ rockstar.
Tattooed across my ribs are the words I have always lived by: 'Aut viam inveniam aut faciam tibi.' Latin for: If I cannot find a way, I will make my own.
Table of Contents
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If I Should Die Copyright © 2016 Kimber S. Dawn
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Before I Wake:
Author Bio
If I Should Die: A Kimber S. Dawn MC Novel Page 24
