Baby Bitch (Bitches and Queens)

by Rachael James

  Sam walked into the room as Kenyon turned back around with his phone held out in front of him.

  Hannah’s voice echoed from the speaker. “Hello, darling.”

  “Kenyon, don’t,” Sam silently mouthed.

  “Hi, Mom. McKenna doesn’t want to come home because Trevor gave her a black eye,” Kenyon explained.

  For several long moments, the room was flooded with thick silence until Hannah finally answered calmly, “Stay there. I’ll be right over.”

  “Ah shit,” Sam gritted through his teeth.

  “She was going to find out the truth,” Kenyon shrugged.

  Everyone gathered in the front room and waited. Kenyon kept his eyes glued out the front window. When they did arrive, he turned back at McKenna, who was waiting miserably in the corner and said, “You’re in so much shit, Kenna. They drove separately.”

  “Shut up, Kenyon,” McKenna cried.

  Hannah strolled through the door a moment later. Her features were fixed, motionless, and gave nothing away. She walked over to McKenna, reached for her hand, and led her to the window. She gently tilted McKenna’s head so she could see the damage and then quietly asked, “Did he do this to you?”

  “It was…” McKenna started but Hannah put her finger on her lips to silence her.

  “Don’t lie to me,” Hannah cautioned.

  “Yes,” McKenna whispered. “Trevor hit me.”

  Hannah nodded softly. “I’ve played your game long enough, McKenna. Now we are going to play mine.”

  Chapter 20

  “I love him,” McKenna cried.

  “Then you have a very important decision to make,” Hannah retorted evenly as her hand fell away McKenna’s jaw. She reached for her hands and held them between her own. “You can either love a living man or a ghost…” Hannah paused. Her eyes narrowed to lethal slits. In the span of a heartbeat, everything about her changed. “If you chose to see him again, talk to him again, or contact him in any way, by the time I am finished with Trevor, he will be crying out to Satan to drag his vile soul to hell just to escape me,” she growled ominously.

  Later the evening, McKenna was lying on her bed crying softly while Willow patted astringent on her bruised face. “It stinks,” she grimaced with disgust.

  “Witch Hazel will help the bruise heal faster.”

  “Have you seen her yet?”

  “No,” Willow murmured. “Not since we left Sam’s house. I’m sure your mother had a few words for him.”

  “That was hours ago. Where has she been?”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart,” Willow whispered.

  Willow knew exactly what McKenna was thinking, and she couldn’t say that she wasn’t thinking the same thing. Good Lord, did she go after him? There were parts of Hannah that she would never fully be able to comprehend. Those aspects of Hannah’s personality both drew her in and scared the living shit out of her. She knew Hannah had traversed many dark paths and had experienced cruelties beyond imagination. Those years of torment split her personality like a two-sided coin. There was the Hannah they knew—a wonderful, kind, loving, generous mother and wife. And then there was the other Hannah—a soulless creature capable of inflicting pain and suffering without blinking an eye. For years, her dark side at been held at a bay, but Willow was very much afraid that the sight of her daughter’s beaten face had flipped the coin.

  “I’ve never seen her like this. She scared me,” McKenna confessed.

  Perhaps, scared wasn’t a strong enough word. Hannah had terrified her. The part that frightened her the most was that she hadn’t sounded crazy. No instead, she was calm, rational, and rather matter-of-fact about the whole thing, which made McKenna wonder if her mommy hadn’t gone insane.

  “That wasn’t your mother. That was Hannah Fairbanks,” Willow explained softly. “Now you understand why she didn’t want you to become like her.”

  “Willow,” Hannah called out, surprising them both. “It’s time for bed.”

  Willow leaned down and kissed McKenna’s uninjured cheek. “Good night, sweetheart.”

  Hannah pushed away from the doorjamb to let her pass. As she walked by, Hannah reached for her hand. “I have your bath ready.”

  Nodding lightly, Willow left the two of them alone. Hannah proceeded to walk over and sit down on McKenna’s bed. With a tight smile, she tucked the blankets around her body. “Do you remember what I said earlier?” she inquired calmly.

  “Yes.”

  Leaning down with a devilish smirk, Hannah whispered, “Good. Because I meant every word of it.”

  As Willow sat alone in the bathtub, she decided that there were infinitely worse ways for her wife to chase away her demons—other women, drugs. And to think, years ago she had been revolted by this simple act. Now, she might almost consider it somewhat relaxing… almost, if the woman bathing her wasn’t fucking insane. Talking was never part of the ritual so both women remained silent as Hannah went through the motions of first bathing her and then drying her off to dress her.

  Willow waited until Hannah climbed in bed beside her before asking, “Do you feel better now?”

  “I will feel better when Trevor’s soul is writhing in hell,” Hannah gritted through her teeth.

  “Yes, well, it is comments like that that scare me,” Willow muttered.

  Hannah glanced over impatiently. “I won’t promise you anything. So don’t ask.”

  Willow gasped softly as she felt a little piece of her heart splinter. Hannah was so remote, so removed—right there beside her, but not really there at all. Yes, Hannah had gone through hell and back to become healthy, but it wasn’t as if she was sitting around waiting in a pretty garden for her to come home. Except for a few short weeks, Willow had been right there beside her. Hannah had dragged her down the spiraling depths, but they had managed to escape the madness together. Hannah had already jumped off the cliff, but she had better think again if she thought Willow would stand by helplessly. ‘Where you go, I’ll go…’ They had made that pledge to each other years ago, and Willow still sincerely believed each and every word just as strongly today as she did then.

  “You already promised me everything, or did you forget our wedding vows? When I asked you to marry me, I had no intention of becoming a prison wife,” Willow spat angrily.

  “I haven’t forgotten anything,” Hannah hissed.

  “And?”

  “And what? What do you want me to say?”

  “I want you to say that you will not get involved in this,” Willow exclaimed.

  “How can I not get involved? This is our daughter.”

  “I know,” Willow shouted and then let out an angry puff of air. “I know that, and trust me, there is nothing you could do to him that I wouldn’t want to do myself. But there are these little things called laws, and I don’t want you to get arrested. We need to let the police handle this.”

  “The police,” Hannah scoffed. “For fuck’s sake, you heard her. She loves him. She won’t speak against him, and it will be our word against hers.”

  “We will file a restraining order.”

  “And like that will fucking work. Those rarely do shit, especially when neither person involved wants to be restrained.”

  “Then what?” Willow declared. “What do you suggest we do?”

  “We don’t need to do anything,” Hannah said. “The problem has already been taken care of, or will be tomorrow.”

  Willow eyes widen in horror. “What did you do?” she whispered painfully.

  Hannah rolled her eyes impatiently as she pounded at the pillow and then rearranged the blanket. “I didn’t murder him if that is what you are thinking. I’m buying our daughter out. I spent the day with our accountant. It wasn’t easy to do on a Sunday, but he did manage to get his hands on three-hundred thousand dollars in cash. I forced Sam to throw in two-hundred thousand as well because he lied to me.”

  “So now what? You’re going to give Trevor five-hundred thousand dollars to stay away from
McKenna? Do you think it will work?”

  “Trevor won’t see a damn penny of that money,” Hannah hissed heatedly.

  “I don’t understand,” Willow questioned, confused.

  “I hired a private investigator a few weeks ago. He discovered that Trevor is an affiliate of the outlaw motorcycle gang, Devils Kin…”

  “Good Lord,” Willow cried.

  “I arranged a meeting with the club’s president tomorrow. I am giving him the money, and in return, he will keep Trevor away,” Hannah finished.

  “But what if Trevor refuses to stay away?”

  “He won’t,” Hannah reassured calmly. “Once the deal has been made, if Trevor tries to contact McKenna, he will be signing his own death warrant.”

  “Oh my God,” Willow exclaimed as she started to panic. Her heart was pounding against her chest, and it felt as if someone had reached inside and squeezed her lungs tight. Normally, she was able to keep a tight leash on her fears, but there were just many ways for this to go terribly wrong. Unable to fight the onslaught of emotion, tears sizzled down her cheeks. “I don’t want you to go there alone. I will go with you.”

  Hannah reached out and pulled her close. “Shh,” she whispered against her lips. “Please don’t worry about me. You know I hate it when you get upset. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

  “But… but…” Willow stammered.

  “I promise.” Hannah kissed her quivering lips. “I’m not going there alone.”

  “Who is going with you?”

  “That’s not important. The only thing that matters is that this nightmare will finally be over tomorrow.”

  Hannah slammed her car door shut. The steel-metal complex that was surrounded by a barbwire fence was everything she imagined it would be. As she waited beside the security camera, she glanced down indifferently at the pair of snarling Rottweiler dogs. Not that she held this band of rag-tag criminals in her highest esteem, but whatever opinion she had, had fallen at their sight. No true offender ever left the work of men for mindless beasts.

  A few moments later, a pair of dangerous-looking bikers slowly ambled towards the gate. As with the dogs, they did little for her. She had seen worse. Hell, she had been worse.

  “You here for business or pleasure?” the tall man with the noticeable limp asked with a smirk.

  “I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure that out yourself.”

  The shorter of the two men eyed her up and down. His eyes finally came to rest midway between her lips and breasts. She didn’t even want to begin to imagine what it was about her throat that he found so fascinating. He finally spoke with a raspy whisper, “I would have thought a pretty lady like you would know better than to come here by yourself.”

  “Brains and beauty have little to do with each other,” Hannah retorted impatiently. “And just so I am very clear about it, I am never alone.”

  “Your imaginary friend wouldn’t happen to be a loaded weapon because if it is, I’ll have to confiscate it before you’re allowed on the premises,” the tall man said cockily.

  “My imaginary friend is more of a fiend. And he doesn’t kill with bullets unless absolutely necessary. He prefers to use his hands, blades, and a whole assortment of other torture devices that I’m sure you have never heard of before. If you would like, he would be more than happy to demonstrate for you.”

  “Just to be sure, I’ll have to check first,” the shorter man rasped.

  “If you even think about laying a hand on me, I’ll rip your balls off and shove them down your throat,” Hannah gritted through her teeth.

  A second later, his phone began ringing. The conversation was very short, clipped, and couldn’t have lasted more than ten syllables. Hanging up, he glanced over at the tall man and shrugged, “The Prez said to let her in.”

  Once the gate was opened, the savage beasts no longer took notice of her and ran back to their shady patch of grass under the lone tree. As she didn’t want the images of what she saw permanently seared upon her brain, she did her best to block them out as she was led into the complex and up the stairs. She caught only a few brief glimpses of the people loitering about.

  They all looked the same to her—rough, scarred, and patched, and for a second, she felt genuine terror. But not for herself, she felt it for McKenna. Hannah had devoted the last eighteen years of her life to protecting and sheltering her babies, and to think one of them had almost been snatched away right out from under her watchful eyes. Stolen, polluted, stained, and corrupted—no, that would never happen to McKenna. She could not let it happen. Even if drastic measures were called for, Hannah would not let it happen.

  Fortunately, she had a guardian demon on her side. Ruthless and deadly, twisted and sick, the Russian assassin was so infamous that he only went by one name—Dmitri. Any criminal or organization worth their salt had heard the stories, which in Dmitri’s case weren’t legends. He was everything they said he was and so much more. Though their bond of tears and blood had been forged so many years ago, even Hannah did not claim to comprehend his tortured soul. Dmitri was the one person, the only person, she truly feared. He was also the only person she absolutely trusted in times of peril because she knew he would do anything she asked, anything.

  Unfortunately, there was always a price to pay for his services, so for now, she wouldn’t be calling on him. He was more of a measure of last resort. She had not seen him face to face in over two decades, but they kept in contact. Five years ago when he left prison, Dmitri was kind enough to inform her, although he had been rather sketchy on the details so Hannah didn’t know if he was released or had escaped. Occasionally, he sent care packages with photographs of his art. Of course, Willow knew nothing of him or their association, but Hannah hadn’t been lying when she said she wasn’t coming alone. Even in spirit, Dmitri was a formidable force to reckon with.

  Once inside the president’s office, Hannah discovered the leader looked much like his congregation, only perhaps a bit more wiry and shrewd. His stint in prison had no doubt caused turmoil among the ranks. On some level, she could almost respect his dogged determination and will. It could not have been easy to lead from behind bars or take his place back on the throne he had abandoned. But he was still a thief, murderer, drug dealer, and pimp. Their worlds were so different now, but once, a long time ago, she had resided in a place much like his. She knew him. She could understand what drove a man like him. So alike, yet so different. Here, in this world, was the only place he would ever lead. Hannah was a queen. Once a queen, always a queen, in her world or any other that she might chose to dwell.

  “So what do I owe this honor, Miss Fairbanks? Or is it Mrs. Mallory?”

  Hannah placed the duffle bag on his desk and sat down on the edge of the leather seat that was on the other side. “I would prefer to avoid the small talk. There is five-hundred thousand dollars in that bag. You may count it if you like.”

  “A donation for our cause,” the Prez chuckled.

  “I suspect you know exactly why I’m giving you that money. It’s for my daughter. More specifically, I want you to keep your associate, Trevor Dean, away from her.”

  “I’ll try my best,” he shrugged. “But you know how it is with young lovers.”

  “If you accept that money, I expect more than your best,” Hannah declared succinctly. “I, too, have an associate. In fact, you may have heard of him—Dmitri?”

  The grizzly man grew pale under his tanned flesh. His easy smile flattened as his eyebrows crashed together with a growing frown. “Dmitri is in the gulag. He was captured years ago.”

  “Oh, I can assure you, he is very much out and active. In fact, I left a few samples of his latest masterpieces in the bottom of the bag.”

  His coal-black eyes glanced warily at the duffle. For a second, Hannah began to reconsider whether she should have dropped his name. It seemed as if his fear might override his greed of the easy money. Finally, he let out a soft growl and then reached for the bag.

  �
��It’s done and so is your business here,” he spat harshly.

  Chapter 21

  The following week, McKenna stayed home from school the first three days. Most of the pain and swelling had already gone down, but Hannah wanted the bruise to fade until it could be covered with makeup before she returned to her normal life. At least, that is what she claimed. McKenna thought she was doing it to keep her away from Trevor.

  For as long as she could remember, Willow had always worked at her office downtown. Yet, inexplicably, she suddenly had a burning desire to work from home that week. McKenna knew exactly what she was doing, why she was doing it, and was relieved that she didn’t have to be home alone with Hannah. She no longer seemed quite so psychotic, but there was a lingering edge in her voice and steeliness in her posture. Willow didn’t need to say it because McKenna could see it for herself—Miss Fairbanks had yet to leave the premises.

  McKenna was both simultaneously revolted and mystified by the sudden and acute changes in Hannah and her relationship with Willow. The two women were no longer equals but more like master and slave. When Hannah commanded, Willow jumped. Willow, it is time for bed. Willow, it is time for your bath. Willow, wear this. Willow, say that. The demands went on and on until McKenna was very much afraid Willow would finally snap, but somehow, she miraculously persevered.

  One evening as they lay snuggling together on McKenna’s bed watching TV, she asked her how she could stand it.

  “It’s her way of getting better,” Willow explained.

  “She’s acting like this because of me, isn’t she?” McKenna asked miserably.

  “No, princess. She was like this long before you came along.”

  “Was she like this when the two of you met?”

  “Hmm, yes,” Willow murmured.

  “Then how did you know she was the one? How could you have possibly fallen in love with someone like that?”

  Willow reached out and stroked her dark blond eyebrow. “First, I fell in lust with the outside. Very much like you did with Trevor. Then as I got to know her better, I realized that deep down, this really isn’t her. My soul recognized hers.”