“The Kings will support their VP, man,” Mills said. “You don't got shit to worry about.”
I nodded. “Good to know. Thanks.”
We sipped our beers in silence for a few moments. I was still trying to come up with a way to bring up the subject of my shooting with him. I wanted to tread lightly because Crank was right – the last thing we wanted or needed was conflict within the MC. Maybe I was being paranoid and reading shit wrong. It was always a possibility.
But my gut told me a different story. My gut had gotten me through the worst of things over in Afghanistan, and I relied on it. And at the moment, it was telling me not to trust Mills as far as I could throw him.
“Hey, tell me something,” I said. “That night I got shot – why did you send me out to meet Mendoza alone?”
He shrugged it off. “I knew from the tone of his voice when he called that there was a problem with that run,” he said smoothly. “I figured he'd want to see somebody from leadership out there handling it.”
“Yeah, I get that. But why didn't I have any backup out there?”
“I honestly didn't figure you'd need it, Damian. I had no way of knowing he was going to go psycho like that.”
“That's why we always have backup when we're dealing with another club,” I said. “You know that as well as I do.”
Mills looked at me a long moment. His face was darkening, and his eyes were narrowing. Mills didn't like to be questioned – about anything. The fact that I was pressing him on the issue was pissing him off – I could see it. And Crank was growing more uncomfortable by the second.
“What are you asking me, Damian? Are you asking me if I set you up out there?”
I shrugged. “Just asking questions, prez. Trying to square some shit up in my own mind.”
“What kind of shit?”
I knew I was treading on dangerous ground, but I thought his reactions to my questions were a bit… telling. Rather than trying to reassure me that I was mistaken and that he'd never do something like that – or just admit that he'd fucked up by not sending me with backup – he was getting defensive. Angry. In my head, he was acting like a man with something to hide. But I needed to bite my tongue and bide my time. For now.
I shook my head. “Nothin'. I'm just all kinds of fucked up in the head right now. Just trying to find meaning or something after almost dying. Crank thinks I'm jumping at shadows. He's probably right.”
Mills looked at me a moment longer and then nodded. “Yeah, sounds like it.”
I drained the last of my beer and set the bottle back on the table. I slid out of the booth with Crank right behind me.
“Thanks, Mills,” I said. “Appreciate the time.”
He nodded. “Any time, brother. Just let me know what you need when you sort this Mendoza shit out.”
I nodded before Crank and I walked out of the clubhouse and back toward our bikes. He was unusually quiet and seemed to be lost in thought. As we got onto our bikes and were putting our helmets on, I turned and looked at him.
“Cat got your tongue?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Maybe you're not seeing shadows that aren't there.”
“How so?”
He sighed and looked at me, his dark glasses concealing his eyes. “Mills is hiding something. I'd lay money on it.”
I nodded and started my bike. With one last look over my shoulder at the clubhouse, Crank and I rode off. I needed to come up with a plan to draw Mendoza out without putting Cara in the crosshairs again. I needed to make sure she was going to be safe.
And then, after that, I'd deal with Mills.
Chapter Twenty
Cara
I'd just dropped some paperwork off and was on my way to check on one of my patients before punching out for the evening. It had been a long day, and I was ready to go home. My feet were sore, and I was tired.
“Goodnight, Cara.”
I smiled at one of our orderlies as he passed by – Sean, I thought his name was. “You have a good night.”
My footsteps squeaked and echoed down the corridor. Evenings in the hospital were always a little eerie. Fernwood was a small town, so it wasn't like we were ever completely inundated with people. It got busy, but probably nowhere near as bad as a hospital in a big city like San Francisco. But at night, there were even fewer people than normal buzzing around the hallways. And it was the emptiness of the place that could be a bit creepy at times.
Of course, like any hospital, we had our share of ghost stories. Which made the quiet and stillness of the evening hours a little creepier to me. Not that I believed them all, of course. But sometimes, when I was alone, I thought I heard things. Caught things moving out of the corner of my eye. I would usually laugh at myself and shake it off, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't get spooked now and then.
But as I came around a corner, it wasn't some ghostly entity that sent a jolt of fear-fueled adrenaline coursing through my body. At the end of the hallway, standing near the elevators were two large men. Dark hair, dusky skin, and malevolent looks on their faces. Though they were scary, intimidating looking men, it was what they were wearing that made my heart almost stop in my chest – they were wearing kuttes that were all too familiar to me.
They were Fantasmas.
Images of the night before and snippets of the things they said to me flashed through my mind and sent a cold chill through my body. I'd stopped in my tracks with about twenty yards separating me from them. When they saw me, slow, predatory smiles spread across both of their faces.
“What's up, Cara?” the man on the right said.
“Mendoza says he was thinkin' about you,” the other said.
Their voices echoed down the hallway, and I looked around, hoping that somebody was there who could pull me out of there. My body trembled and my heart was stuttering drunkenly in my chest. Every instinct in my body was telling me to turn and run back down the hallway. To get as far away from them as I could.
But even though my mind was screaming to run, my body was refusing to move.
I opened my mouth to speak but found that I had no words. My mouth was dry, and all of my words were stuck in my throat. All I could do was stand there, staring and gaping like an idiot.
“Why don't you c'mon over here, baby,” the first man said.
“Yeah, why don't we take a ride,” the other said. “I bet Mendoza would love to see you again.”
The two men started walking toward me, and the rush of adrenaline turned into a raging river. I found myself suddenly freed from my paralysis.
“You two need to leave this hospital,” I said. “Now.”
“We'll go, baby,” the first guy said. “You just need to come with us.”
“I'll call security.”
They laughed and didn't stop moving toward me. They were getting closer and closer by the second. It was clear they weren't going to be intimidated by threats of having security called on them. And it was just as clear they'd been sent to bring me back to Mendoza.
Only this time, I just had a feeling that they weren't going to give Damian the chance to rescue me.
“Last chance,” I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. “Get out of here now, or I'll have the cops here so fast it'll make your head spin.”
They just kept laughing and closing the distance between us. I turned and sprinted down the hallway, looking for the hospital security staff. I risked a glance over my shoulder and saw the two men still walking, not in any rush to catch up to me. The booming echoes of their laughter bounced off the walls all around me though, sending spikes of fear lancing through me.
I rounded a corner and rushed to the security desk. An older man – Tom – sat behind the desk drinking a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. He looked up at me with sleepy eyes and gave me a smile – apparently not noticing the panic I was sure was painted on my face.
“Hey, Cara,” he said. “You okay?”
“No, I'm not okay, Tom,” I snapped. “There are two men – they'r
e probably armed – just around the corner. They're trying to abduct me, Tom. Get the police here.”
He stood up, a look of mild concern on his face. He rested his hand on the butt of his gun and came around the desk.
“Now, let's calm down a minute,” he said, his eyes looking toward the corner I'd just come around.
“Tom, they're coming,” I said. “Big, tall, Hispanic men – bikers.”
“Okay, you stay here a minute.”
I steadied myself on Tom's desk and watched him walk toward the hallway. Part of me thought I'd see him walk straight into a hail of bullets and watch the Fantasmas walk around the corner with those creepy smiles on their faces.
But Tom reached the hallway without getting shot down for his trouble. He looked back at me questioningly.
“There's nobody here, Cara,” he said.
“What? There was.”
I walked to where he was standing, my body tight, tense, and ready to run at a moment's notice. But when I reached the hallway, I looked and found that it was empty. The men who'd been waiting for me – following me – were gone. As if they'd never been.
“Tom, they were there,” I said. “They were coming after me.”
The older man put a hand on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring – perhaps even patronizing – squeeze. He looked at me and smiled.
“Well, they're gone now,” he said. “So, you have nothing more to worry about.”
I wanted to scream. That sounded like something I'd tell Austin when he was scared of a monster hiding under his bed or in his closet. And I didn't appreciate being talked down to like I was a child. I hated nothing more than being patronized and condescended to.
But, then I stepped back and tried to collect myself. I wasn't upset with Tom. He could only go by what he could see – and he hadn't seen the two big, burly bikers coming after me. It wasn't his fault.
I took a deep breath and let it out. “They must have gone when I came to get you.”
Tom puffed up a little bit and smiled. As if his presence had deterred two men from abducting me. But whatever. I wasn't going to get into it with him. The less he knew, the better, anyway.
“Thanks, Tom,” I said. “I appreciate your help.”
“Any time, Cara,” he replied. “That's what I'm here for.”
I gave him a small smile and headed toward the locker room. I was done and wanted to get home. I changed and threw on a sweater before going to the security office and asking for an escort to my car. The moment we walked into the parking garage though, I saw them. The two men from the hallway. My body tensed and I heard myself gasp.
“Are you okay, Cara?”
I looked at the man with me – a security guard named Roger. He was younger, well built, and had his eyes firmly fixed on the two bikers.
“T–that's them,” I said. “The men who chased me. They're trying to kidnap me.”
Putting himself in front of me – between them and me – Roger pulled the gun from his holster and held it down at his side. Using his other hand, he keyed the radio attached to his uniform and called for backup. I fought the urge to turn and run back into the hospital – but the urge was strong.
The two men sitting astride their bikes smiled and laughed again. One of them waved at me as they started their engines and rode out of the parking structure. We watched them go, listening to the sound of their bikes fading into the distance.
“Come on,” Roger said. “Let's get you to your car.”
He walked me over to my car and waited until I got inside and locked my door. Then, he stood nearby – waiting and watching.
My hands were trembling so badly, it took me several tries to get my key into the ignition. My heart was thundering in my chest, and the rush of adrenaline was making my skin feel like it was on fire. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I was scared. Really scared.
And then a thought occurred to me that sent me from scared to terrified, to outright panicked.
They'd known my real name – not the fake name I'd given them when I was their captive. They knew my real goddamn name. They knew who I was – which meant, they might know who Austin was.
I gunned my engine and roared out of the structure with my tires squealing. I had to get home. I had to get to my little boy.
Chapter Twenty One
Cara
I was careful to keep an eye on my rearview mirror for motorcycle headlights, and not seeing any, I broke about every traffic law to get home as quickly as I could. I pulled into my driveway, barely managing to throw the car in park before I scrambled out of it and ran up to my front door. My heart racing faster than my car had been, I jammed my key into the lock and threw the door open.
And then stopped dead in my tracks.
Austin was sitting on the couch, cuddled up next to Damian who was reading his favorite book to him. They both looked up when I burst through the door – Austin smiling wide and Damian instantly looking concerned.
He looked down at Austin and smiled. “Hey, buddy, let's go greet your mom, okay?”
Austin jumped off the couch and ran over to her, throwing his small arms around my waist. “Hi, Mama!”
“Hi, baby,” I said, fighting to keep the tremors out of my voice.
I stroked his hair as relief flooded my body, instant and powerful. It was almost so overwhelming, I felt my knees buckle, but managed to stay upright. Damian looked at me, his expression of concern deepening as he stepped toward the door behind me. I kept hugging my little boy but watched from the corner of my eye as Damian looked at the street outside, before closing and locking the door.
“Hey, buddy,” Damian said, putting his hand on Austin's head, “why don't you go brush your teeth and get ready for bed?”
He looked up at Damian. “Finish my story?”
Damian gave him a gentle, warm smile. “Of course,” he said. “I'll be in to finish reading to you just as soon as you brush your teeth and get ready for bed. Deal?”
Austin giggled. “Deal!”
My little boy put his hand up in the air and looked at Damian expectantly. For his part, Damian looked at me sheepishly but slapped Austin's hand with a high five, which sent him running down the hallway in a fit of giggles.
Damian gave me a lopsided grin. “I guess I taught him how to high five today,” he said. “He also wanted to wait up for you to get home. Hope that's okay?”
I nodded, feeling numb. Like I was walking through a dream. “Yeah. That's fine.”
My smile was small and felt false, even to me. Everything was okay. Everything seemed so… normal. And after the evening I'd just had, that made it seem all the more surreal. Damian reached out and put a hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. He looked at me, that look of concern back on his face.
“You okay? What happened?” he asked.
I let out a long, loud breath and related everything that had happened at the hospital, his expression growing from concern to outright anger. When I was finished, he looked like he was ready to punch a hole through the wall.
“Those sons of bitches,” he growled, keeping his voice low.
“They know my name, Damian,” I said, not able to keep the tears from falling. “They know who I am. For all I know, they might know about Austin and where I live.”
He pulled me into a tight embrace, and I let him. Being pressed against his body, wrapped up in his large arms made me feel safe. Secure. I melted against his body and let the tears flow. My body was heaving with sobs, but I buried my face in his chest and tried to choke them back, not wanting my precious little boy to hear me. I didn't want to worry or scare him – I wanted to keep all of this as far away from him as possible.
“Done, Damian,” Austin's little voice echoed up the hallway. “Finish my story!”
“Go ahead and get into bed, buddy,” he said, his deep voice making his chest rumble against my face. “Be right there.”
Damian took me gently by the shoulders and looked into my eyes. My head was still s
pinning, and I was trying to come down off the adrenaline high that was still rushing through my body.
“Why don't you take a minute,” he said. “Go wash up and collect yourself. We'll talk more about it after I put Austin to bed.”
I nodded, apparently still not able to form a coherent sentence. He gave me a gentle smile and then turned and walked down the hallway toward Austin's room. I walked down the hall and into my room, stepping into the bathroom and turning on the shower. The room quickly filled with steam and my senses slowly started coming back to me.
I got out of my clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash down over me. I stood underneath a stream of water so warm, it was almost scalding. The heat of the water stung my skin – it was slightly painful but felt good at the same time. If nothing else, it was clearing my head.
PREGNANT FOR A PRICE: Kings of Chaos MC Page 13
