by Sweet, Izzy
I think I even feel a little guilty, guilty for something I know I haven’t done, and it’s confusing as hell.
His words keep replaying like a broken record over and over in my head.
I was there the whole time you were in a coma.
You were my fucking Allie Cat and you left me.
You’re mine, Allie. I took claim on you a long time ago. You tell me you don’t remember me, but you will.”
I don’t know what to make of it all. It’s fucking confusing as hell.
I’m still not willing to believe I’m the girl he’s been talking about. Why would I believe a stranger over my parents? Especially a stranger who fucking kidnapped me and is keeping me and my child hostage.
So why do I feel guilt?
And why does a little part of me want to be Coy’s Allie? Why does a part of me want to be his?
I just don’t fucking know.
But the one thing I do know is that Coy is crazy, and if I’m not careful, he’s going to make me crazy too.
Coy and Levi both start laughing over something that’s happening in the show, and for the hundredth time since we all sat down, Coy’s hand squeezes around my shoulder.
My skin instantly warms and tingles.
I try to shrug his hand off, but it only seems to encourage him to squeeze tighter. Giving up, I force a smile as Levi peeks up at me even though Coy’s touch is driving me a little insane.
If Coy would just stop touching me, if he’d just stop looking at me like he wants to devour me and give me a little room to breathe, I could get my head screwed on straight.
Because right now, on top of the tangled mess in my brain, I swear I feel like I’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone.
This whole thing is wrong on so many levels.
I was kidnapped, I’m being held against my will, and the guy who did it all is sitting next to my son, laughing it up like this whole situation is completely normal.
He’s so sure I’m his Allie, so confident I’m the girl from his past, he even has Levi calling him Dad, for Christ’s sake.
If my entire body didn’t hurt and feel like one big damn bruise, I’d wonder if this was even real.
How the hell did we get from Miami to here?
If I had even the slightest inkling this was going to happen, I would have kept on driving. I wouldn’t have stopped until we hit the west coast, and I probably would have kept on driving even from there.
Kentucky is only meant to be a layover. A place to lay low for a few months until the heat dies down. Robert is working on a way to get us safely out of the country, but if I can’t figure out a way to get away from Coy, we might be stuck here.
I have to find a way to get in contact with Robert.
Coy’s hand squeezes my shoulder a little tighter, almost like he can read my mind, and again my first instinct is to try and shrug him off.
I don’t want to be stuck here… I don’t.
No matter how strong he weaves this spell he’s trying to put me under, I’ll get us out of this.
And soon.
I have to because something is telling me things are only going to get even worse. The longer we stay here, the more likely it is things are going to get even more fucked up.
Mikhail could show up at any minute.
Hell, Coy’s Allie could show up.
What then?
Someone bangs on the front door, and after the thought I just had, I nearly jump out of my skin.
I shoot a glance over at Coy and he seems completely unconcerned. A little disappointed and irritated, but not concerned.
“Well, looks like it’s time for me to go to work, son,” he says to Levi and reluctantly slides his arm off my shoulders.
“Aww,” Levi pouts up at him, and seeing his disappointment makes me feel a little sick.
Coy ruffles Levi’s hair affectionately before he gets to his feet. “I won’t be gone too long, I still gotta find out what happens to those droids.”
Levi seems to perk up at that.
Coy chuckles and gives his hair another ruffle. “Take care of your momma for me.”
Levi glances at me and then grins. “I will!”
Coy grins right back at him. “That’s my boy.”
Then he turns his attention to me.
His eyes fill with so much emotion I find myself shrinking back into the couch, seeking space to ease the intensity between us.
He reaches for me and his fingers start to dig into my hair before he must think better of it.
Sliding his fingers out my hair, he brushes them gently against my unbruised cheek and growls softly, “I’ll be back. Get some rest, you need it.”
Despite my determination not to let him get to me, a little shiver runs through me as he turns away from me, and I curse my stupid body as I watch him walk up to the front door.
I’m so flustered with myself, I stare at his back without seeing what it says on the black vest he’s wearing until he pulls open the door.
Then the words seem to just jump out at me like they’re demanding not to be ignored.
Royal Bastards MC
Why didn’t I notice that before?
The name doesn’t really mean anything to me, I don’t know anything about biker gangs, but there’s something about it…
Something…
Fuck.
I don’t know what it is, but the words are making me feel a little irritated.
“Hey, boss man,” a familiar voice says, and then the blond guy from Walmart walks through the door.
I find myself getting to my feet in alarm before I even realize I’m doing it. Then I remember what Coy said earlier.
I’ve got brothers comin’ over to keep your narrow ass safe.
Dammit.
“Poster Boy,” Coy grunts and nods his head at him before he has to make room for the next guy who walks through the door.
“Pres,” the next guy says with a tone of respect as he bobs his head, and my ears perk up.
Pres?
“Alright,” Coy says once the third and last guy is over the threshold. “Allie, you’ve already met Poster Boy.”
Poster Boy smirks and nods his head at me.
Ugh, maybe it’s wrong of me, but I find myself glaring back at him.
I know, I know he’s the one who got me into this mess.
Coy jerks his chin to the bigger of the other two. The guy is so big and tall, he must have been fed Miracle Grow as a child. “This is Hammy.”
“Ma’am,” Hammy says respectfully before he smiles, leans back on his heels, and shoves his hands in his pockets.
“And this is Steve,” Coy says, nodding to the third.
Steve lifts his hand and gives me a little waggle of his fingers. He’s not quite as big as Hammy or as muscular as Poster Boy, but he’s still not a small man by any means.
These three are probably going to give me a run for my money when I try to get out of here.
Coy looks to me, his eyes meeting my eyes as he growls, “I’m trusting you brothers to protect my ol’ lady and son while I’m gone.”
Ol’ lady? Is he referring to me? Am I an ol’ lady now?
“You got it, Pres. We won’t let them out of our sight,” Hammy says a little too enthusiastically for my tastes. Clearly eager to please.
Just what I need.
Steve nods his head in agreement, matching Hammy’s enthusiasm. “We’ll treat ‘em like our own.”
The smirk falls from Poster Boy’s lips and a little tendril of tension appears out of nowhere.
Coy looks to Steve and gives him a dark glare. I watch him start to open his mouth and then stop. He clenches his jaw so hard, I’m surprised I don’t hear his teeth cracking.
Hammy nudges Steve hard with his elbow.
Finally realizing his mistake, Steve mumbles out, “Sorry, Pres. I mean like—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Coy snaps, cutting him off. He growls a little and reaches up, raking through his hair as if
he’s frustrated. “Just take good fuckin’ care of ‘em.”
He gives me one last look, a look that warns me to behave, then he stomps out of the house.
Hammy lets out a breath when the door slams shut. “Shit man, that was stupid.”
“Fuck, I know,” Steve grumbles, his shoulders slumping.
Poster Boy gives them both a look of disgust. “One of you needs to check the backyard and keep a lookout on the porch.”
Perking up and obviously ready to redeem himself, Steve says, “On it.”
Before either Poster Boy or Hammy can have any say on the matter, Steve is hustling past me, offering me a smile and nod as he heads to the back of the house.
Poster Boy shakes his head.
“What do you want me to do, brother?” Hammy asks.
Poster Boy looks to me, his eyes sizing me up and considering how much trouble I’m going to cause him. I’m not surprised at all when he says, “Keep an eye on the Pres’s son.”
Echoing Steve, Hammy seems to puff up and nods. “On it.”
And I have to fight back a smile. Maybe this will be easier than I expected. Poster Boy is definitely still going to be a problem, but the other two, I know their kind. Lord knows I’ve met enough of them being married to Mikhail.
They’re yes-men.
Incapable of thinking for themselves, they need to be told exactly what to do, and will have a hard time reacting when something unexpected happens.
It’s totally going to work to my advantage.
Once I figure out a plan, that is.
“Ma’am,” Hammy says as he walks past me, heading for Levi on the couch.
Completely engrossed in his cartoon up to this point, Levi finally looks up from the TV as Hammy gets closer to him.
He probably felt the whole house trembling. The guy is freaking huge.
“Hey there,” Hammy says, offering Levi a friendly smile.
Levi scowls, his brows pinching together. “Who are you?”
Hammy sticks out his hand. “I’m Hammy.”
Levi looks down at his hand for a second. “Hammy?” he repeats, confused.
“Yeah,” Hammy nods and keeps his hand stuck out. “Your pa asked me to come over and help keep you safe.”
Levi looks nervously at me. “My pa? I don’t have a pa…”
Not liking the distressed look on his face or the way his bottom lip is starting to tremble, I start walking back over to the couch.
“He means your dad, Levi,” Poster Boy calls out.
“Yeah,” Hammy says and nods his head quickly up and down, looking a little nervous himself. “Your dad, the Pres.”
Levi blinks and seems to digest the information. “Oh.” Then, ever curious, he asks, “The Pres? What’s that mean?”
Hammy looks like he wants to sigh with relief as he pulls his hand back. “It means he’s my boss. The President of the motorcycle club I’m prospectin’ into.”
Levi’s face lights up. “My dad is a president?”
“Yup,” Hammy grins and bobs his head.
“And you guys have a club of motorcycles?” Levi asks, his voice raising with excitement.
“You betcha,” Hammy says and walks around the couch to sit down as Levi starts to hurl question after question at him.
Standing near the couch, I listen in on the conversation, interested myself and a little amused as Hammy struggles to provide answers that are appropriate for a child.
When Levi finally gets bored with the topic and turns his attention back to the TV, talking excitedly about his cartoon, I tune them out. After watching the two of them, I’ve come to the conclusion that Hammy seems harmless enough and start focusing on trying to figure out a way to get us out of this house.
I can see Steve through the sliding glass doors leading to the backyard. He’s sitting in a chair on the porch, looking down at his phone and smoking a cigarette.
He seems so engrossed in his phone, I doubt he’d notice if Levi and I left.
The other two on the other hand…
Hammy is talking to Levi, there’s no help for that, but I’m pretty sure he could be easily tricked into letting his guard down.
Poster Boy, though… Ugh. The entire time I’ve been standing here I’ve felt his gaze on me.
I cast a quick glance over my shoulder, and just as I suspected, he’s leaning against the wall near the front the door, arms crossed over his chest, watching me.
Shit.
How am I going to trick him?
A dozen possibilities filter through my brain, but I end up dismissing them one after another.
A fire is too risky.
And accidentally injuring myself seems pointless.
I’ve already been beaten and terrorized and they haven’t taken me to a doctor or hospital yet. The last thing I want is to end up in the system anyway.
No, I know nothing I’ve thought of so far is going to work. I’m just going to have to wait for an opportunity to present itself.
Hoping some caffeine will fuel my brain, I shuffle over to the kitchen. As expected, Poster Boy follows after me. I sense his presence behind me as soon as I grab a mug and fill it up with coffee.
Trying to ignore him so I can focus, I grab the folded-up copy of the Courier-Journal Coy left on the counter and carry it over to the table. Sitting down, I snap it open and pretend to read it while I’m really brainstorming my escape.
Having Poster Boy’s eyes on me though makes it really hard to concentrate.
I flip to the second page of the paper and sneak a peek up at him.
His gaze meets mine, hard and cold, and I quickly glance down.
I wish he would just go to the bathroom or something…
Fuck, if only I had some laxatives. I bet that would do the trick.
Sighing, I lift my mug to my lips and take a sip when he suddenly says, “You know, the way you keep lookin’ at me is kinda creepy…”
I nearly choke on my coffee.
The way I’m looking at him is creepy?!
“Excuse me?” I sputter and cough.
Taking my response as an invitation to join me, he walks up to the table, grabs a chair and flips it around. Sitting down and straddling the chair, he rests his arms on the back.
“Yeah,” he drawls out and frowns. “It’s fuckin’ creepy. You keep lookin’ at me like you don’t know me.”
I cough a little more to get the rest of the coffee out of my lungs before I say, “That’s because I don’t know you."
He leans forward, eyes narrowing with disbelief. “Seriously?”
I narrow my eyes right back him, finding his question highly annoying.
How the hell would I know him?
“Seriously,” I say and look back down at the paper, done with this conversation.
“Wow,” he says, surprised, and lets out a low whistle between his teeth. “I don’t know whether to be insulted or not.”
Not caring one bit, I ignore him and flip to the next page.
The kitchen is blissfully quiet for a few moments, and even though I can still feel his eyes on me, my annoyance begins to die back down.
Then he asks, “You really don’t remember me, huh? The names Poster Boy or Luke don’t ring a bell?”
I clench my teeth together, the annoyance rising back up, and flip through to the next page, continuing to ignore him.
“In high school, we were friends. You were a cheerleader and I was on the football team…”
I close my eyes for a moment, my annoyance flaring so hot I can feel a headache growing behind my temples.
After taking a deep breath, I open my eyes and glance up at his face. Even though he’s annoying the hell out of me, there’s no denying the fact that his face is incredibly handsome. He’s not quite as handsome as Coy… But I can definitely see why they call him Poster Boy. All the required pieces that make a man handsome are there. Short blond hair, straight nose, and a bone structure that probably makes most models drool with envy.
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I stare into his blue eyes, blue eyes that could melt panties if they weren’t so cold, and don’t feel even a flicker of recognition.
“Let me guess, you were the quarterback for the team?” I ask sarcastically.
“You do remember me!” he grins.
I shake my head and roll my eyes before I drop my attention back down to the paper. “No, actually, I don’t.”
He says, “Fuck…” like I just kicked his favorite puppy. “I’m really insulted now.”
And I could still care less.
“You’re the one who introduced me to Coy. You’re the reason I’m a Royal Bastard. Shit, you’re even the reason they call me Poster Boy.”
I clutch the paper and feel his words stabbing at my brain. What the fuck, does he not take a hint?
“Most people think it’s because of my handsome fuckin’ face,” he goes on. “But it’s not. It’s because of what you called me at the first Royal Bastard party you took me to. You seriously don’t remember?”
“I don’t remember,” I grit out at him, my head tightening with tension.
God, just the sound of his voice is starting to give me a migraine.
“You don’t remember callin’ me the poster boy for retroactive abortion after I said some of those sluts hanging around the clubhouse could benefit from some good ol’ female castration?”
Jesus Christ.
“I wouldn’t say that,” I gasp and look up at him in alarm.
But then again, thinking about it, maybe I would if he actually said that…
“You did,” he grins smugly, like he’s proud of it. “And Grem overheard it. It’s stuck ever since. Well, ever since I came back.”
He frowns and I shake my head in disbelief.
That weird feeling, the one that feels like I’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone, starts to creep back in.
Is this real?
“Fuck, Allie, you were a really cool chick,” he sighs. “I missed you, and I know a lot of the other brothers missed you too.”
I roll my eyes again. He missed me? Me? Is he serious? And the other brothers too… Yeah, sure.
Knowing that’s he really pulling my leg now, I start to tune him out and work on finishing the rest of my coffee.
“Sure… you and Coy were kind of a joke at first. Miss Allison Stack, the daughter of Edward and Lorraine Stack, those hypocritical bible-thumpers building that megachurch over in Westport, getting corrupted by the dirty bikers…”
