Together in ruins (The Scars series Book 4)

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Together in ruins (The Scars series Book 4) Page 6

by Rachael Tonks


  “Oooh, that really turns me on when you get all angry like that.”

  “Oh, fuck no,” I say, straightening myself, rolling my shoulders. “We’re going.”

  “Laters, honey,” Davo shouts to the girl rolling her eyes in disgust. Placing my hand on the back of his neck, I lead him over to the door, opening it and giving him a little push.

  “Did you see that, huh? Did you see how she practically begged for me back there.”

  “Man, that is not what I saw.”

  “Ughhh, she was the best-looking chick I’ve seen in a long time. I’m just glad we didn’t have to fucking hurt her. Well,” he pauses momentarily, “I would of course like to hurt her, but not in a life-threatening kinda way.”

  “Enough,” I snap. “Jesus, Davo. You’re old enough to be her dad.”

  “Yeah,” he replies, nodding in agreement. “But maybe I’d like her to call me daddy when she’s riding my cock.”

  “I can’t even... I can’t listen to this,” I say, storming ahead, throwing my hand up in the air.

  The other guys just outside the door storm after me. “How did it go, Prez?”

  “I’m calling church. You should all head there now.”

  Tara

  Unable to fight back the sigh, I hold the phone between my ear and shoulder while I continue to pull out clothes hanging them up in the closet.

  “Seriously,” Izzy continues. “I’ll be there in about thirty minutes. I have my orders.”

  “I’m good. Honestly, I’ll make my own way in today.”

  “How was your first night in the new house?” she continues as I work through my huge bag of belongings, searching for something to wear to the office.

  “Amazing,” I say with a contented sigh. “Kind of gave me a taste of what it would be like, you know, just the two of us. And the house… it’s perfect, Izzy. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Just happy to help you out. Did you, uh, get a chance to think about what you want to do about the baby?” Her voice is quieter now.

  I stop what I’m doing and let my back fall against the wall. “I realized something this morning when he brought the whole baby thing up again. I realize that if there’s even the slightest chance that it’s Nate’s that I could never get rid of the baby. He really wants me to keep it. Even knowing what happened with his father.”

  “That’s good, right?” she asks tentatively.

  “Yeah, I just guess I’m scared. Scared that it might not be his. Scared that I’m not ready to be a mom. Scared that bringing a baby into this life will be dangerous.”

  “I think the chances of it being Jeffries’ is slim to none. You gotta believe that it’s Nate’s and enjoy the life you two made together.”

  “Yeah,” I reply as a shudder wracks through me. My hand drops to my stomach as I feel the fluttering of nerves in my stomach. “Shit,” I say with a chuckle. “I’m going to be a mommy, aren’t I?”

  “Sure are, honey. And I’m by your side, every step of the way. You got this.”

  A huge smile spreads across my face as realization sets in and I feel something other than dread. “I can do this,” I say positively.

  Izzy shrieks down the phone. “Honestly, this is so exciting. Get your ass to the office so we can talk all things baby.”

  “Whoa,” I reply. “Let’s not get carried away.” I continue to laugh a little, grabbing the phone with my hand and shaking my head. “One step at a time. I have to take this slowly. It’s still a huge shock, even if I have decided to have the baby.”

  “You’re going to make one Savage a very happy biker.”

  “Hmm-mmm,” I hum in reply. “I gotta go,” I say, reaching up and scratching my head. “I really gotta try to find something to wear. My shit is all over the place.”

  “You can take the day off. Get your stuff sorted in the new house. I’ll explain to Brax. He’ll understand.”

  “No way,” I blurt out. “I need normal, Iz. And I have so much to catch up on at work. I can’t afford to get behind on the paperwork.”

  “Hey. I’ve been managing.”

  “Izzy, we both know that the paperwork side of things isn’t exactly your strong point.”

  “You’re right,” she says with a chuckle. “Better get your ass to the office.”

  “I’ll be there. Bye, Iz.”

  My thumb presses against the end call button and I drop the cell phone onto the bed. Pulling out a blouse and skirt, I quickly get dressed, looking forward to seeing Izzy at the office. I tie my hair up on the top of my head and add a little blush and mascara to my face. Glancing at my reflection, I’m happy with what I see so I grab my purse and make my way downstairs. Pushing on my black pumps, I grab my keys and open the door. Closing it behind me, the latch locks and I push the keys into my purse. With a glance, I notice something strange. A burgundy-colored Corvette is parked over the end of the driveway. My heart starts to thud as my mind races. Although it could be nothing, I don’t take any chances. I rush back over to the door, scrambling inside my purse, checking over my shoulder. Finally locating the key, I push it into the lock, turn it, quickly making my way back inside. I close the door, resting my back against it, frozen to the spot while I contemplate my next move. With a few deep breaths I manage to calm my erratic breathing.

  Jesus, Tara. Get it together.

  I step away from the door, making my way over to the window that overlooks the driveway. I let out a huge sigh of relief to see the car is no longer there.

  “Shit,” I exclaim, knowing that I totally overreacted. I glance down to my purse clutched in my hand as it shakes. How can I let him get to me like this? How did I become reduced to a quivering wreck? I shake off all the irrational thoughts, heading back over to the door and step outside once more. Pressing the key fob, I unlock the car and slide in. Throwing my purse onto the passenger seat, I turn the key in the engine and reach over my shoulder, grabbing hold of the seat belt before securing it into the buckle. My hand reaches for the stereo and I switch on the radio. Music blares and I can’t help but sing along to the lyrics that vibrate through the car. Pulling out of the driveway, I set off on the new route to work. I sing so loudly, my voice starts to croak, but I don’t stop. Tapping my hand against the steering wheel, I slow my speed, ready to stop at the set of lights I see changing ahead. My eyes flicker to my rearview mirror as I come to a stop behind the black Honda in front. I blink repeatedly as I see a burgundy car coming to a stop right behind me. Craning my neck, I try to get a better look.

  “It can’t be,” I mutter to myself, turning down the stereo a little while I try to work out whether this is the same car from before. A lump forms in my throat as I realize it is exactly the same make and model. Could be a coincidence, right?

  The burgundy car blasts its horn, causing me to jerk, my hand landing against my chest as I try to steady my thunderous heartbeat. I look out the windshield to see the lights have changed and the Honda has gone. I quickly accelerate, setting off a little faster than I’d normally drive. I can’t stop my eyes from constantly checking the rearview mirror. Is this car following me? Clutching the steering wheel, I try to focus on getting to the office. Keeping my head forward, I drive, trying to forget about the car behind me.

  Suddenly, I lose sight of the road in front as I jerk forward a little. The seat belt cuts into my shoulder as it restrains me from being thrown forward.

  “Shit,” I grate out, forcing my eyes to check the mirrors once again. The burgundy car swings out to the left. With a rush of panic, I press the accelerator with force, the car picking up speed.

  “What is with this asshole?” I furrow my brow, as I look at the car behind me, trying to get an idea of who’s driving. But I can’t tell. The sunlight reflects off his windshield making it impossible for me to make out the driver. As I glance at the road ahead, I notice my turn. I continue speeding and purposely don’t indicate. As I approach the corner, I swing the steering wheel, pressing the brakes as I spin almost ou
t of control. Clenching my eyes shut, I keep my hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel as the car comes to a stop. Glancing over my shoulder, I check that I lost the car. With no sign, I accelerate, desperate to get to work.

  For the next few minutes of my journey, I’m a mess. I can’t stop thinking about the car. What if it was Jeffries? What if he’s after me? My mind runs wild with what-ifs and I know I can’t say anything to Izzy. I refused a ride this morning and I know this will only mean I made another bad decision. About the only thing I seem good at right now. Pulling into the parking spot just outside the office, I hesitate, remaining in my seat for what feels like minutes. With a blink, I snap from my daydream, unfastening the seat belt and holding it while it slowly retracts. I’m scared and shaken. All I want is to call Nate and have him hold me. Tell me everything will be okay. His strong arms wrapped around me where I feel so entwined in him that I know no one will ever break through his hold to hurt me. But I don’t want to cause panic or alarm. I’m okay, I tell myself pulling in deep breaths, grabbing my purse from the footwell. It can’t be him, I tell myself again. How would he possibly know about the house? My fear quickly turns to anger. I throw open the door, ready to step out. My legs are weak and my stomach churns. I hold onto the door, willing my body to power through. With determination, I manage to override the feeling of weakness in my legs, slamming the door shut and walking to the rear of the car to see if there’s any damage from the impact. My eyes scan the bumper and I see no sign of damage. With a sigh of relief, I walk over to the entrance to the office.

  “Morning, ma’am,” the security guard welcomes me and I offer him a smile.

  “Good morning, Griff,” I reply in an upbeat tone, despite how I’m feeling inside. Heading toward the door, I yank it open, making my way up the stairs and into the office.

  “Hey,” Izzy’s sweet voice calls to me.

  “Hey,” I reply, exhaling a huge breath.

  “Girl,” she exclaims, jumping up from her seat and making her way over to where I’m standing beside my desk. “You look out of breath. You good?” I watch as she draws together her brows, her eyes focusing in on me. Jesus, I don’t want to lie to her, but I also don’t want the overprotectiveness that comes with the truth. I love how much they care, but it can feel suffocating. Especially for someone as independent as I am.

  “Oh, it’s just the morning sickness,” I lie. “Makes me feel a little worn out lately.”

  “You sit down, let me go get you a drink. I think you should try to avoid coffee right now.” She points to my tummy and I roll my eyes.

  “I’ll think about that tomorrow. But today, I need coffee.” I laugh, rearranging the piles of paperwork that have been left on my desk. “Looks like it was a good thing I came in.” I arch my eyebrow, looking up at Izzy who snarls playfully at me.

  “I’ll be, uh, making the drinks,” she chuckles, quickly scampering into the kitchen.

  Scanning the huge mass of work piled on my desk, I let out a defeated sigh, slowly lowering myself into the office chair. Pulling it closer, I put the paperwork in order of priority.

  “It got a little out of hand, right?” Izzy grimaces as she places the steaming hot coffee on the desk.

  “We need to get a little help around the place.” Picking up one of the invoices, I turn it and hold it up to her. “This one is already overdue. We have got to get on top of this.”

  “I know, I’m sorry. It’s all been a bit much without you here every day to help out.”

  Slowly, I drop my head, realizing this is mostly my doing. “I should be the one apologizing. I’ve let things slip and, in the process, let you guys down. But don’t worry,” I say holding my index finger to her. “I’ll have this all sorted and be back on top of everything within a few days.”

  “You’ve had a few messages left too. By the bar managers that want to run things past you. Specifically, Jason from Bar 81.” She hands me a sheet with names and numbers of everyone who left me a message.

  “Really? Shit,” I say, flashing her an awkward smile, taking the sheet from her and placing it down in front of me. “I’ll call them all back today, but right now, with everything I have to catch up on, they’ll have to come and speak to me here in the office. I just don’t have the time to visit them all.”

  “I have to work on getting someone in here we can trust. Lighten the load so you can get back to doing what you do best, managing the bars and staff.” Trotting over to her desk, she picks up the desk phone and starts dialing. “No time like the present,” she says cheerfully.

  After one hell of a day in the office with Izzy, I look at the pile on my desk, smiling widely to see that it’s a fraction of the size it was when I arrived. My cell phone rings and I duck under the desk, grabbing my purse and retrieve my phone.

  “Hey,” I answer as my tummy flutters with excitement at seeing his name on my phone.

  “Baby, I need you to come to the clubhouse.” His voice is taut and I feel a pang of panic work through me.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, almost dreading his response.

  “A club whore,” he replies and I have no idea where he’s going with this. “She’s beat the fuck up, baby. She needs clothes and a friendly face.”

  “I’ll be right over,” I tell him before ending the call. Pushing back the chair and stepping up from the desk, I glance over to Izzy. “Babe, I’ve got to go.”

  “Everything okay?” she inquires.

  “I’m not sure. I’ll call you later when I know more.” I give her a little wave as I make my way out.

  Nate

  Pacing back and forth, I take a huge drag on my cigarette. My eyes flit between the girl from Plaza and one of our local whores Kristine. She holds her, rocking her a little. The girl is unconscious and seriously fucked up. Bruises circle her eyes and dried blood completely covers the bottom half of her unrecognizable face.

  “She’s breathing, right?” I ask, my eyes focused on Kristine as she dips her head toward her mouth.

  “I feel her breath on my face.”

  “We should take her upstairs. Let her rest in one of the beds,” I say, glancing over to Zane leaning against the bar.

  “Sure, man. Should we clean her up first?”

  The sound of heels clicking against the wooden floor catches my attention. Darting out of the room, I make my way over to the hall to see Tara rushing toward me. She shoots me a sad smile, and even though it looks sad, my heart responds the way it always does when I see her.

  “Nate,” she sighs. “What’s happened? Who is this girl?”

  “Some poor whore stuck in the crossfire between us and the Deathseekers.”

  Tara gasps, her eyes widening. “Where is she?”

  “Through here,” I say, dipping my head and kissing her on the cheek. My lips linger longer than I know I should, but I can’t help myself. I need to kiss her and savor her at any given chance. Dropping my free hand, I intertwine my fingers with hers, leading her through into the main clubhouse room where Kristine is sitting on the floor holding the poor girl.

  “Oh, Jesus Christ,” Tara gasps, releasing my hand and dropping to the floor. Sweeping away the loose strands that have fallen on her face she examines the results of a serious beating.

  “I need warm water and a cloth. I’m also going to need the first aid kit.” She swings her head looking in our direction.

  “On it, boss,” Zane replies, scurrying out of the room.

  “How long has she been unconscious?” she asks looking at Kristine who lifts and drops her shoulders. “Seriously?” She glares at her, sniffing a little. “Girl, you need to go sober up. You’re no help to me half drunk.” Tara quickly dismisses Kristine who stands from the floor, unsteady on her feet.

  Holding her hand out she looks up at me. “How did you think getting that would help?”

  I chuckle, stepping over to the bar and stubbing my smoke out in the ashtray. “When Kristine got here, she found Melody collapsed on the ground, outside
the gates. She brought her in and sat with her,” I explain, stepping closer and crouching to the floor beside Tara. “Waited for us to get here, but I had no clue what to do. Her clothes are ripped to fuck and her body looks worse than her face.”

  “So take her to the hospital.”

  “Can’t. Would cause too much heat for the club. Isn’t like the whore is going to have insurance either.”

  She sighs, her eyes raking over the limp body of the girl lying on the clubhouse floor. Grabbing the edge of the blanket that covers her body, she lifts it, her hand covering her mouth when she sees all that it hides.

  “We’re going to take her upstairs into one of the spare rooms. Give her a little more privacy,” I murmur and she nods in agreement.

  Heading outside, I grab Davo and get him to help me carry the girl upstairs, placing her on the small bed in the spare room. Tara works tirelessly washing and dressing her wounds the best she can. Melody starts to croak, her hand grabbing hold of Tara’s arm.

  “Nate,” Tara exclaims. “I think she’s waking up.”

  I move from my propped-up position against the door and head over to Tara who is perched beside Melody on the edge of the bed.

  Tara places her hand over the one clutching her arm. “Melody, you’re okay, you’re safe now,” Tara speaks sweetly and Melody’s eyes blink open, as if trying to focus on Tara’s face.

  Her head turns a little, her eyes now looking in my direction. “You…” she chokes out and the words rattle as if caught in her throat. “You said I’d be okay. But I wasn’t okay.” She begins to sob loudly.

  “Who did this?” I ask, pressing my arms across my chest, tilting my head. “Was it one of the Deathseekers?”

  She moves her head from side to side.

  “Then who?” I ask with narrowed eyes.

  “My boss. Mr. Levin.”

  “Your boss did this to you?” I ask, stunned, handing her a box of tissues.

  “He found out that I’d let you guys in. I just knew this would happen. He flipped his shit and fired my ass. But not without beating me to hell and back first.”

 

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