Drew and I had never had any real issues.
Not until yesterday when I picked up Kadey from Jared’s, and she wouldn’t stop crying. Then he walked out with a black eye and split lip and told me about how he’d run into Drew down the street, and the little shit for brains had decided to pick a fight with him.
In front of my fucking child.
My four-year-old daughter.
Who was now traumatized.
“There a problem here?” a deep voice questioned, the gravelly tone tickling across my skin, leaving a wave of goosebumps in its wake. It was almost enough to make me look up, but first, I had something I needed to say.
I took a step forward, so I was standing over Drew, the dickhead, who was still crying like a bitch, not caring that there were now probably six guns pointed at my head. “Listen to me, you pathetic piece of shit. I don’t give a damn what problems you have with my ex. He’s not exactly my favorite person in the fucking world either. But if you ever again decide to express those feelings with your fists in front of my daughter, I’ll come back here with a rusty knife and castrate you in your sleep. Then I’ll shove your balls so far up your fucking ass, you’ll be able to taste them.”
Drew stared up at me with his eyes wide.
The pain was suddenly an afterthought.
It wouldn’t be the first time I’d threatened to hurt him, and it probably wouldn’t be the last because Drew was a fucking asshole. Why he and Jared weren’t still good friends stumped me because they were like two peas in a screwed-up pod.
“Jesus Christ, Drew,” a female voice groaned loudly, surprising me. I looked up to see a young woman with long blonde hair dancing in the breeze, staring down at the injured man in disgust. To my surprise, there were no guns pointed at me anymore, and half the men were still glaring, but it wasn’t at me. “Hawk, you’re not actually gonna let him get away with that, are you?”
“It look to you like he got away with it?” the gravelly voice responded, drawing my eye to a striking specimen of a man who was leaning against the banister at the bottom of the stairs, his arms folded across his chest. Our eyes met, and the deep emerald green color that shone back at me almost stole my breath. He held my gaze as he spoke, which was intimidating on its own. “One of you bastards drag him around the back before I let her have another go at him.”
My grip tightened on the bat, the small movement not going unnoticed and drawing the corner of his mouth up.
Two men jogged down the stairs, and each took one of Drew’s arms, dragging him off the road and onto the grass, not even apologizing when he screamed at the movement of his leg.
Okay, so maybe it was a little more than bruised.
“I didn’t get your name?” Mr. Green Eyes questioned with his arms folded across his chest. I couldn’t help but be distracted for a moment by the decorative barbed wire tattoo as if it was wrapped around his fist.
“I didn’t give it to you.”
“I’d like to know it.”
“Then ask bitch boy,” I snarled, nodding in the direction they’d dragged him, actively trying to avoid eye contact with the gorgeous-looking man in front of me.
“How old is your daughter?”
I clenched my teeth and wiggled my nose, fighting the tears that burned at my eyes as I remembered the look on Kadey’s face, how frightened she’d been, and how it had crushed her to see her father hurt. She knew he wasn’t perfect, but hell, there were times when she didn’t want anything to do with him, where she questioned whether he even gave a shit about her.
But that was her dad.
And she still loved him.
So to see him attacked and hurt, it was scarring.
“Four,” I growled before shaking my head and reminding myself to get the hell out of there as the adrenaline began to fade, and I suddenly realized exactly what I’d done. And to who. “Tell him to stay the hell away from my family.”
Green eyes narrowed, flicking toward the rear side of the house for a blink before returning to me. “I’ll pass the message along. I’m sure Drew and I are going to have a great talk about what’s acceptable and what’s not.”
It was a casual statement, but the way his hands curled into fists let me know that his intentions were to have more than just a chat.
With reality beginning to settle in, I took a step backward, returning to the stone driveway.
He followed, meeting me step for step as I backed away.
“Next time, I won’t be bringing a bat,” I warned, my heart leaping up into my throat when he let out a deep, rumbling chuckle. “And I won’t be aiming for his damn leg.”
“Baby,” he started, the smooth term of endearment that I’d slapped other men for using suddenly felt and sounded so fucking different. It sent this surge of electricity shooting through me. Not the bad kind though, more like the kind you get with firsts. The first time he touches your skin, the first time you kiss, the first time the words ‘I love you’ fall from his lips. “If there’s a next time, I promise you, by the time you get here, the fishes will already be enjoying their lunch.”
The tone of his voice was almost angry. Maybe protective?
I couldn’t help but shake my head, trying to clear the air around me and get my senses back.
“Call me baby again…” I started with a soft smile, “… and the fishes will also be getting dinner.” I lifted my bat, pointing it straight at him and throwing him a wink, not bothering to wait for his reaction before turning and hightailing it the thirty or so feet to the road where my run-down car was parked.
When I turned the key and the engine started the first time, I swear my entire body sunk into the seat.
I’d just threatened more than one member of the Exiled Eight MC.
Men who I’d heard made people go missing for far fucking less.
Who the hell did I think I was?
Oh yeah.
A mom.
The picture of Kadey that sat proudly on my dashboard had me sucking in a deep breath, my shoulders rising and falling dramatically. This kid was my world, and I’d do anything and more to protect her, to show her she was safe and loved.
And I did just that.
But as I pulled out from the curb and caught sight of the biker standing at the roadside watching me drive away, I had this feeling that this wasn’t the end of it, and he wasn’t about to just let me walk away.
I simply didn’t know if my heart was suddenly pounding because that scared the crap out of me.
Or because it didn’t.
3
HAWK
My fist hammered on the red wooden door.
The still night air was cool, a slight edge to it despite the fact that we were getting pretty damn close to summer.
This side of town was so fucking quiet.
A nice change of pace from the busy streets of Detroit.
And yet, I’d still rather be there than in this shit hole dealing with some stupid motherfucker who decided to fuck with one of our clients. “I’m coming, I’m coming!” the male voice called from inside, a deep raspy cough following and growing louder as he got closer to the door.
My fingers clasped the weapon in my hand a little tighter, my finger curling around the trigger as I raised and leveled it at where the door was about to open.
One lock.
Two locks.
Three, before the handle finally fucking turned and the door cracked open.
“Can I hel… fuck!” He tried to slam it closed, but I raised my foot and pulled it back, slamming my heel into the cheap piece of shit and almost cracking the fucking thing in half. Adrian stumbled back, hitting the wall for a second in his stunned state before he lifted his hands, his head shaking back and forth. “Hawk, man, come in!”
Shoving what was left of the fucking door to the side, I stepped through, Drew and Blue right behind me.
I wasn’t one of those assholes who sent their entourage in first.
I handled whatever I could fuckin
g handle with my fists or the bullet in my goddamn gun.
“I don’t have the money,” Adrian protested. He knew exactly why I was there because, unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time I’d had to visit his dumbass. “You gotta give me some time.”
Shaking my head, I stepped inside the run-down apartment. There were holes in the walls, stains on the carpet, and fucking trash pushed into corners. Oh, and the smell? “Last thing I wanted to do was come down to this fucking dump, just for you to tell me you don’t have the money,” I ground out, dodging a pile of trash that looked like it was fucking moving. “I don’t have the time for that.”
I really didn’t. I had shit to do that didn’t involve this dirty bastard and his inability to know when to fucking stop ticking up shit he couldn’t afford.
Bad for him, good for us.
The club had been debt collecting for the past three or four years. We bought debt from businesses at lower than the amount owed, then add what we like to call ‘tax’ on the top of the original amount. It could be a gamble, given there was never any guarantee we were going to get our money back, but the one difference between us and other debt collection agencies—they have to follow the law.
I find there are other far more productive means.
Hands shaking, Adrian reached for a lit cigarette sitting in an ashtray and drew it to his lips. “I… I honestly don’t have anything. I don’t.” He took a long, deep inhale of nicotine, holding his breath for a few long seconds before letting the steady stream of smoke leak from between his lips.
“You’re on your third strike,” I warned, dusting off the wall beside me before I leaned against it, my gun resting against my leg. “So, there’s only two ways I’m leaving this place.”
That was his warning.
I’d been here three fucking times, and this time wasn’t a fucking courtesy call.
Bishop’s orders were clear this time around—he wanted what he was fucking owed, or he wanted a fucking body.
Adrian’s eyes grew wider, his cigarette hanging limp from his fingers. His other hand scrubbed over his gaunt-looking face, his cheeks sucked in, his eyes sunken into the sockets like he hadn’t slept for weeks. His body trembled, his nails scratching at his face made my skin fucking crawl.
I wanted to get the fuck out of here.
I was done coming down to this nasty piece-of-shit apartment.
“Hawk, man, I can’t… I don’t… you know me, you know I’m good for it… if you just give me a few days!”
He was right. I knew him far too fucking well.
And the people he kept fucking over were sick and fucking tired of his drug-addicted ass. He was bad for business, and honestly, just a waste of air. “I’ll give you five seconds,” I told him with a shrug.
“Hawk—”
“Five.”
His head was shaking back and forth, his long, matted hair flopping around frantically. “I can give you something else. My car? My uh… my…” He had fucking nothing because he had already sold everything he owned to get his last fix.
“Four.”
“My girlfriend!” he announced, pointing his dirty fucking finger toward the door. “She’ll… she will be right back! She’s just gone out to get food. You can take her. She’s cute. Pretty.”
“One,” I hissed, lifting my weapon and only pausing to aim for less than a second before I squeezed the trigger. Over and over. Emptying the entire clip, his body jerking with every silent blow, stumbling backward and slamming against the wall behind him.
Shaking my head, I twisted off the silencer as he coughed and spluttered, his body sinking to the floor as it convulsed.
“Who taught you how to count?” Drew teased as he and Blue both stepped around me, moving down the short hall off the tiny apartment, making sure there were no loose ends left lying around. “You forgot three and two.”
“Itchy trigger finger,” I drawled, trying to ignore the tightness in my shoulders. “Uncontrollable twitch.”
“You should get that checked.”
“I’ll make a fucking note.”
He paused at the end of the hall and turned to look over his shoulder at me. “It was the mention of the girl, right?”
My lip curled in disgust as I looked down at the piece of shit, his blood decorating the dirty cream-colored carpet, if anything, making this hell hole look a little better. I refused to acknowledge it, but Drew was right, it was the mention of him trading his fucking girlfriend to get himself out of the goddamn hole he’d dug for himself.
Sacrificing others so that they get to live.
Willing to throw people they are meant to love under the bus for their own benefit.
Just like The Valley.
I didn’t have time for cockroaches like him.
And I wasn’t about to give him a place on earth to do that kind of shit.
Yeah, I was fucked up.
I’d been through hell, and I had fucking problems—that was no joke—but I owned my shit. Who I was, the life I lived, the choices I made.
I owned it all.
“Everything good?” I asked, standing a little taller and raising my brow at Blue as he finished scanning the house, making sure there was nothing left, nothing of ours, nothing to indicate us.
Not that the police would come looking.
They’d be thankful.
One last piece of shit for them to scrape off their shoe.
When we got back out to the street, I climbed into the driver’s seat of the blacked-out SUV sitting at the curb, Blue folding his large body into the back. We chose not to wear our colors or ride our motorcycles to these kinds of jobs. The less evidence we leave, the better.
Drew pulled himself into the passenger’s seat with a painful cringe, grabbing his knee tightly for a second before pulling the door shut.
I didn’t even bother to stop the smirk on my face, looking down at the injured limb. “She has quite the swing.”
We pulled away from the curb as Drew grumbled under his breath, glaring at me out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, Missy has grown up a lot.”
Missy.
Okay, a name.
“Probably thanks to Jared and his bullshit,” he added, resting his arm out the window and clasping the top of the door tightly in his fist. “He pushed everyone around. Her. His parents. His sister. His friends. For someone with such a loud mouth, he doesn’t have a fucking lot to show for it.”
I kept my eyes focused on the road, narrowing them. “What do you mean?”
Drew snorted. “Missy was always the worker. Girl did anything and everything, sometimes worked two or three jobs, all while he was either sitting on his ass or cheating on her and making her feel like it was her fault.”
I could feel the heat swirling inside me.
A familiar burn.
“You know where she’s working now?”
Drew looked at me out the corner of his eye. I caught it, though it was just a flicker, and saw the curiosity in his gaze. “Yeah. Last I knew, she was stripping at The Rush across town.”
I knew exactly where I was going tonight.
4
MISSY
“Dammit.”
I flicked through the money again.
One bill after another, counting slowly in my head as I crouched behind the bar.
“I’m short,” I whispered, shaking my head and pinching my eyes closed. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t be a hundred dollars short. I needed this money, and I needed it before tomorrow. “Goddammit,” I cursed, scrunching the cash in my hand as I rushed by the other bartenders and ducked past security into the staff-only area out the back.
The music dulled instantly as the thick door swung shut behind me, the echo of my heels clicking on the old wooden floors taking its place.
The hell was I going to do?
My shift was done.
And I was running out of time.
Every day we went without having an EpiPen around meant I was at r
isk of losing Kadey forever. She was only one when I almost watched her slip away. I’d given her egg for the first time, and the reaction was almost instant.
Anaphylactic shock.
Her throat closed up.
She started to go blue.
I never wanted to go through that again, but here I was, considering it because Kadey’s dad had let her eat something without checking the ingredients and her throat had got itchy. They used her pen as a precaution, which was fine—but could have been avoidable if he just paid more attention.
I stepped into the tiny dressing room at the end of the hall, my gaze pulled instantly to the far corner of the room where my four-year-old daughter had buried herself into her favorite beanbag, a fluffy pink blanket pulled up to her chin.
“She hasn’t moved an inch,” Gem whispered softly, my beautiful best friend of two years not even taking her eyes from the mirror. The corner of her mouth pulled up as she touched up her scarlet red lip. “Wow, the girl can snore, though.”
I slipped past her, bending over Kadey just to check her eyes were still closed before I allowed the tears I’d been fighting to drip down onto my cheeks.
My baby girl was a fighter.
I’d been working at this dirty, back-alley bar for years.
Late nights.
Long shifts.
And Kadey had put up with it all.
Thankfully, my elderly neighbor across the hall from our apartment had become like a grandmother to her, even watching her overnight two or three nights a week while I came here and flashed my tits for dollars. That being said, having someone watch her every night I needed to be here just wasn’t realistic, so she’d been sleeping here two nights a week for two years.
It was the only option.
We did what we had to do.
“I don’t have enough to get her pen,” I whispered, hoping Gem would hear the croaking admission and not ask me to repeat myself. I don’t know if I could, to be quite honest. My heart felt like it had dropped down into my boots, the weight of everything sitting on my shoulders feeling like it was pushing me through the floor.
Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition Page 43
