Cook (The Ridge MC Book 4)

Chapter 23

Cook

How would I kill thee? Let me count the ways.

I would choke thee to the depth and breadth and height...

Hell, that’s all I could remember of that stupid poem to twist to my need. Regardless, I would do whatever necessary to see these men ended.

I could beat them to a pulp, break my hands and bruise my knuckles as their bodies slumped, heads flopping like fish. There had to be guns here, and I’d steal one, pulling the trigger without mercy. The gunshot sounds would be lost in the screaming of Serenity.

Their blood could be used like paint, turning the walls red, then brown.

Sloan was still looking down at my phone, smirking at the picture that I had taken of Maddie. It popped up every time she called or texted me. What I would’ve given to see her face one more time. To talk to her again.

I grabbed for my phone, lurching out of the chair, but Mercer jerked back and raised the gun straight to my chest. If he used that trigger-happy finger, I would be dead immediately.

Goodbye, Mom.

Goodbye, Maddie.

Mercer waved the cell phone in my face. “Can’t have you calling for backup.”

The Prez. My brothers.

Yeah. He was 110% right. With one text, I would bring them all down on Serenity. All I would have to do was keep this conversation rolling. Buy time. Celt would arrive within the hour, and he was probably all we’d need. I would have my brother at my back, and murdering these fucks would be easy as pie. The body count would pile up and blood would turn the floors red like my vision. And then, I could burn this place to the ground without a second thought.

Rocking back on my heels, I looked down at the muzzle of the gun and then back up at Mercer. “Take the fucking gun off my chest and let’s go. I’ll send messages on the way to gather the club’s officers for church.” And get the club armed and ready for a fight, but neither Mercer nor Parisi needed to know that.

Sloan glanced at Massimo, but he was already walking out. He showed his back, but would he be so confident if there wasn’t a gun trained on me? I could snap Mercer’s wrist in a blink and have the gun warming my palm. Pulling the trigger with the nose pointed at Massimo wouldn’t have me losing any sleep at night.

Then again, if I shot the Mafia bastard, would I ever find my mom?

I was fucking stuck.

Following like a puppy.

Massimo moved through the club smoothly, solidifying my knowledge that he owned the place. Or was at least a fixture here. Massimo’s goons crowded around me, but Mercer still had the gun on me. If anyone in the club thought this was odd or even noticed, they didn’t say.

People didn’t shy away either, as though guns were the norm here. Odd, since I apparently signed that I wouldn’t bring weapons into the club. I no longer wanted to know more about Serenity unless it involved how to raze the place to the ground.

A long dark limo waited outside Serenity, boxing my bike in. One of Massimo’s men held open the limo door, and Massimo ducked inside. Mercer pressed the butt of the gun into my back, ushering me inside the limo.

My boots stuck to the sidewalk. Once inside, I would be trapped.

No escape.

At least Maddie was safe for now with her sister. But Massimo had a tracking device on her. He’d found my mom when I’d kept her hidden for years. How he got the deets on my mother, I couldn’t guess, but one thing I knew now... I fucking had to comply.

Curling myself into a small and slim man—at least as much as I could—I climbed into the limo.

The smell of polished leather, cigars, and brandy smacked me in the face, and I stifled a gag. Massimo relaxed in his seat, crossing his legs, as Sloan and one of the other goons climbed in too. The door slammed, and the limo floated away from the curb. Definitely smoother than my bike, but I still wanted the wind on my face and Maddie at my back.

Riding, especially with her now, was my lifeline.

“I should text Prez,” I said. Wilde would need to gather everyone, and it’d take Celt an hour to get back to the Ridge. “If you want church to be ready when we get there.”

Massimo’s dark eyes glinted in the car across from me, but Snakes said, “Or get them ready for an attack.”

Massimo waved off the little man. “We have the cell phone. We decide the text. Pull the phone out, Sloan.”

Gun in one hand, cell phone in the other, Sloan said, “Who are we texting?”

“Celt,” I said over the lump in my throat. He would understand shit was going down if I texted him to call church. If only I could somehow drop the name Snakes.

“With a C?” Mercer scrolled on my phone before he said, “Found him.”

Massimo arched an eyebrow, waiting for what I would say. I, too, thought hard about the words, searching my memories. When Celt and I were kids, we often communicated in our own language with code words so my daddy wouldn’t know what we were talking about.

“Say,” I began, working my jaw. Less would be more. “Church 911. The Ridge. One hour. Tell Angel to spread the word.”

The mention of Angel should tip him off that my message had something to do with his ol’ lady and Maddie, by proxy.

My phone buzzed in Mercer’s hand, and he said, “Your man’s confused.”

I latched my jaw shut. Think about it, Celt.

“He’s asking if you’re... all good? Ah, we have a bromance going on, do we?” asked Snakes, cocking a smile. I knew the dweeb wanted my cock.

“How sweet,” he continued. “Maybe you’re the sub to his Dom. You should bring him to the club. Hierarchy in power play is my favorite.”

His forked tongue dashed over his lower lip.

I balled my hands into fists, and Massimo said, “Enough, Snakes. We’re not at Serenity now. No kink.”

Snakes pouted. “There’s always power play.”

“Enough!” snapped Massimo. Then to me, he said, “Just get their president there.”

Mercer narrowed his gaze on me, and I unlocked my jaw, saying, “Just text, ‘See you in an hour.’”

As he typed it out and sent the text, I pressed myself back into the seat. I couldn’t get away from them. Not in this cramped limo. Sloan tucked the phone away, patting his chest, and pointed his gun directly at my lap. Yeah, I was fucked.

Maddie

Curled up in the back seat of Angel’s car, I looked out the window at the dark Phoenix streets. Eventually, the streets turned into the long highway. The desert stretched out far and wide like a dark abyss. I shifted in the backseat, and Melanie glanced back at me.

She had only just stopped staring at me, and I cursed myself for drawing her attention again.

“We should go back,” I said. “To Serenity. I’m fine. Cook needs help!”

So far, they hadn’t listened to me. Mel had talked over me like I was a child, but I forced the words past my lips again, hoping they would listen.

Of course, they didn’t.

My hands balled into fists because when I tried to open the door, it wouldn’t budge. Even when the car was stopped and the lock disengaged, the handle didn’t work. They had to have the child lock on. Damn it, didn’t they understand that those were the types of things Signora did to us? To me?

Another fucking cage!

I couldn’t get out. Couldn’t even roll down the window. The wind in my face would do so much to relax me right now. Why couldn’t my sister get out of her head long enough to see that?

Theynow held me prisoner, my sister and her man.

“We need to find Cook,” I continued.

I needed my daddy. To see him. Talk to him. Touch him. Why couldn’t they just take me back to the club? I shouldn’t have left him there with Massimo Parisi. I just had to run.

Would Cook be angry at me for leaving him? No, surely not, because he could punish me for that and know I would take it. Love it. Cook would answer my calls if he could. My breath hitched in my chest. Something was terribly wrong.

“We’re taking you home,” said Mel.

“Cook is a big boy,” said Angel. “I’m sure he can figure out his own shit.”

“You don’t understand,” I whined. “He didn’t pick up my calls. He isn’t responding. We need to go back and find him.” My voice was pitching up, but I couldn’t help worrying over the one person who grounded me.

Melanie frowned. “Maddie, I’m sure Cook is fine. Really.”

“Quit talking like I’m a clueless child!” I flounced against the backseat. If she wanted to treat me like a kid, I had no problem acting that way. “You’re not listening. You wouldn’t say the same if it were Angel.”

“Maddie,” said Melanie like she was so fucking smart.

I kept my eyes fixed on a rare and distant light. My sister might be some big-shot lawyer now, but I had seen more shit than she would ever know. Thank God she hadn’t been through what I had, but still... I had a different kind of education. One that probably applied better in this situation than all her degrees combined.

“I left Cook at a club,” I said. “Serenity.” I had freaked out and ran, and now he wasn’t answering my calls. He wouldn’t do that. Ever. I’d never phoned him, but I knew it in my bones he would always answer when I called.

Melanie and Angel exchanged a look before Angel focused on whatever was beyond the windshield. The night-covered road hurdled toward us, and I swore he sped up.

Melanie whipped out her cell phone, the blue light casting her face in ghostly shadows like when we used to hold flashlights under our chin in the dark bathroom and pretended. This, though, was not pretend.

As she started typing, I leaned forward, only for the seatbelt to strangle me. Forced by the restraint, I settled back in the seat. Still, I tried to peek to see if she was finally calling Cook. Maybe he would pick up for her.

Suddenly, she dropped her cell phone, shaking her head. Disgust curled her upper lip. “No fucking way!”

Angel asked, “What is it?”

“Serenity is a bondage club.” Melanie gave me a judgment-filled look. “We’re not going back there. Let’s take my sister home.”

Her voice had all sorts of disdain dripping off her words, as though she were asking, What the fuck is wrong with Cook that he would take my sister there?

Why was she acting like I was a kid? I wasn’t, and I could use my body how I wanted. For once, this was my choice and there was nothing wrong with it. Roni had said her friend went to Serenity. One of the other bikers in the club went to Serenity too. Cook and I weren’t weird or alone.

“But Cook,” I pushed.

“I’ll text him, jeez,” muttered Melanie, picking her cell phone.

I tried to peek at what she texted, but she had her cell phone angled away. She typed too long to simply say she was taking me home. She was probably saying something about Serenity. How fucking embarrassing.

When Angel pulled the Mini Cooper up in front of Cook’s house, I placed my nose against the window, searching for Cook’s motorcycle. It wasn’t here. There wasn’t a light on in the house either. Melanie opened the backseat door I had been leaning on, and if I wasn’t still wearing my seat belt, I would’ve fallen out onto the rusty dirt.

Once I unbuckled and stood, I fumbled with my keys to the house, the only item in my tiny purse except my cell phone. My hands were still shaking from Serenity and Cook being missing.

Finally, I lined up the key and slid it into the lock.

Inside, I uselessly searched for Cook. No matter how many lights I switched on, he was nowhere to be found, not that I expected him to be sitting in the dark. Shit, where was he?

Angel blew out a low whistle. “Stuff has changed around here.”

I ignored him and kicked off my boots. This was our home. We had worked hard over the last few weeks to make it ours.

Melanie wandered to the far wall, frowning, and I got a bottle of water from the fridge. What else would she judge me about? She didn’t like Serenity and wanted me to leave Cook. She lowered herself to stare at a black and white photograph, narrowing her gaze. I drank the water greedily, but the need to be a good host bubbled up with every gulp.

Cook would expect me to be a good host, no matter how uncomfortable it made me.

“These are nice,” murmured Mel.

I snorted. “Sure.”

“They are,” said Mel, straightening. “You really have an eye for photography.”

I scrutinized my sister. I should have wanted to spend more time with her and trust her, but she got to live a good life. She got to date and follow her dreams. And what did I get?

Rape. Torture. Cages.

With Cook, I was finally free. Days and weeks after being freed from Signora, I was finally able to choose my own life.

“Is Cook helping you with these?” asked Mel, pointing to the photographs.

“Yeah,” I said over the lump in my throat. She didn’t care about what mattered right now. Where the fuck was he? I looked down at my cell phone, still gripped in my hand. It remained quiet. He hadn’t called me back. Hadn’t even texted.

“How new are they?” asked Melanie.

I arched my eyebrow at her and then scanned my surroundings. My house. Cook’s house. Our house. They needed to leave.

“Oooo-kay?” Mel sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you taking photos. I was so focused on... on you.”

That was why she showed up unannounced, unwanted. What didn’t she get about that?

Angel cleared his throat. The white light of his cell phone fluttered across his face. “Shit.”

He slipped it in his cut pocket as Mel and I looked over at him, mirror images of each other. The likeness between us made my guts clench. I hated that we looked so alike on the outside when everything about us was different.

“I gotta head to Bou’s shop. Lanie, you good here?”

“You should go too,” I said to Mel.

The two shared a look. A silent message passed between them. I hated them for it.

“What’s going on?” Mel asked, taking a step toward him.

I spun around on my heel and opened the cabinets, pretending to look for food as tears burned my eyes.

“Church.” Angel’s voice lowered, and he murmured something I couldn’t hear to Mel.

“Yeah, go,” Mel answered. “Be careful.”

“I’ll be back soon,” said Angel, and then his footsteps echoed toward the door. The hinges creaked, and the door shut behind him. A car engine roared, and the sound faded into the distance.

“If you’re hungry,” offered Mel as I still picked through the cabinets, “I could make you something to eat.”

“I can make myself something to eat,” I grumbled.

Mel came to stand next to me at the counter. “Do you have any tea?”

Cook wasn’t a tea-drinking person. “There’s coffee.” I slammed the cabinet door, turned, and marched away from her. “I’m not hungry.”

“Maddie?!”

I walked into my room and shoved the door closed. I would clean up after her when she left, but I wasn’t talking.

“Maddie?” Her voice came again, this time closer to the door.

I reached down and flipped the little lock. The mechanism on the knob wasn’t strong, nothing like the metal braces and padlocks Signora had used to keep us locked away. That door could be kicked down in a second, but I hoped Mel would just go away.

She knocked. “Maddie, come on. Let me in.” A pause extended for several seconds. “Please.”

“No.”

“I don’t want to upset you, Maddie, but we need to talk.” Knock, knock. She jiggled the doorknob.

I gritted my teeth. She didn’t listen to me, so why the hell would I want to talk?

As much as I didn’t want to have the hard conversation with Mel, I also didn’t want to walk out into the desert, where I could die of thirst. Maybe I could just wait her out.

“Maddie, I don’t want to talk to a door. Let me in, please. Tell me what I can do.” A soft thud came through the closed door, as though she rested her head or a hand on the other side. “I need to reconnect with you. For you to trust me and talk to me.”

I turned the lock and yanked the door inward, glaring at her as she stumbled a little in surprise. “Trust you? That’s rich when you haven’t listened to a word I’ve said since you put me in the back of your car.”

“I have.”

“Bullshit!”

My hands trembled. The ghosts were starting to come back. The memories of everyone telling me what to do and what was good for me. Everyone except Cook. He gave me the freedom to shine. To have the sun on my face. He gave me the warm and safe place to curl up as well as the punishment I needed to get out of my head.

Remembering him, I could be strong and not let Mel send me into that dark place again.

I left my sister at the door and scanned the room for paper and a pen. I could get it out again, but this time, I didn’t think I would be so out of control.

I pulled open a drawer in the dresser. Nothing but clothes.

“Maddie.”

I yanked the entire drawer out of the nightstand, junk scattering across the rug.

“Okay, Maddie. I’m listening.” She latched her hands on my upper arm, looking me in the eye. The same light brown with a hint of maple as mine.

“Let’s sit. Tell me,” Mel continued. “I promise I’m listening.”

I sat on the bed, digging my nails into my palms.

“Cook’s in danger.”

Mel exhaled. “Anything else?”

I pinched my lips and shook my head.

“He’s okay, Maddie. Angel had to go to Bou’s shop because Cook texted everyone to gather up there.”

Snapping my head over to look at her, I said, “Really?”

She gave me a sad smile and a nod. And the knots in my shoulders unfurled.

“So,” I started tentatively, “he’s fine? And on his way to Park Ridge?”

Her smile spread. “Probably arriving as we speak.”

Silence settled into my room, blanketing us.

Until Mel finally broke it: “How is it going... with Cook, I mean?”

“Great,” I said, but that didn’t begin to cover it. After she looked up Serenity, I doubted she wanted to know more about what we were doing there.

“He treats you well?”

I paused. “Are you concerned that he won’t?”

She swallowed. “I only want you to be okay, Maddie. And happy. I’ve spent so long—” She gulped again, her throat visibly bobbing up and down. “You’re my sister.”

As if I need to be reminded of how much she looked like me, only tanner and more toned.

I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “He treats me better than anyone else. Better than you’ll ever know.”

“And what have you done for him?” she asked, turning on the bed to face me square on.

I rolled my eyes. “Quit judging my choices.”

“I have to be concerned, Maddie.”

“Because I’m your sister?”

“Yes! And because of what the club is,” said Mel quickly and through clenched teeth.

I punched both fists into the bed. “See, not listening.”

“I am, Maddie, but I don’t understand why Cook would take you there after...”

“Because.” The non-answer was all I would give her. He needed to learn. I needed things that he didn’t know how to give me. But that wasn’t something she needed to understand, and I just wanted her to stop talking. She just needed to give me the space to recover in my own way.

“You should’ve gone with Angel.” I looked over at one of the portraits I’d taken—a black and white photo of Cook replacing a broken window in the house. His perfect concentration showed in the determined set of his jaw as he finessed it into the frame. It had been hot, and he hadn’t been wearing a shirt, so the tats on his shoulders stood out. My fingers itched to touch them again.

Maddie.” Mel’s gentle voice cut through my fixation. “I want to be here.” Her voice cracked. “When you called me, crying and scared. You had run away from Serenity—”

“That wasn’t Cook’s fault,” I said, facing her again.

“Then what was it?”

I thinned my lips together, refusing to mention Massimo. Or Sloan. Fuck, I shouldn’t have left Cook back at Serenity. I needed him more than ever.

Mel waited, hands on her cup with her eyebrows raised. An image of Mom flashed through my mind, and I winced.

“Maddie,” began my sister, even using the same tone as Mom. “I miss you, even now that you’re close. Even when I know you’re safe, and I do know you’re safe with Cook.”

“You don’t act like it,” I murmured.

“He’s a good guy.” She sighed. “I can see that you’re settling in well with him. You’re really growing into yourself here.” Her kind words didn’t match her pained look. “But I think you need more than what he can help with.”

“And you think you know what I need?” I asked, venom lacing my voice.

“I only have an idea.” Mel reached for me, but I snatched my arm away. Before pulling her hand back, I watched her fingers curl into a fist.

“I know this can’t be easy for you, Maddie. None of the kids at the recovery house are having an easy time.”

“I’m not a kid,” I gritted through clenched teeth. That was the difference between them and me. I’d hardened myself enough to deal with the Gambinos’ games for much longer than anyone else. I knew how to make myself conform and survive.

“I know.” She ran her thumb around the rim of the mug. “Is it worse that you had to grow up in it? You were there so much longer.”

A shudder ran down her body, and she dipped her head as she wiped the corner of her eye. Seeing the emotion leaking from her eyes did something unexpected. It melted something inside me. Perhaps I was wrong to push her away so hard.

“I’m okay. Here,” I said, needing her to believe it. Lifting my hand, I chewed on my thumbnail, mumbling, “And that I know Cook is coming back.”

“You weren’t earlier,” she said. “Maybe you’ll be okay tomorrow and the next day. But one happy moment doesn’t mean you’re well. Healing isn’t a linear process. It’s up and down. You’ll have good and bad days. It’s about taking a proactive approach.”

“So I don’t have another night like tonight,” I murmured.

Sloan and Massimo. Running away from Serenity. I never wanted to feel this way again. Like the world had been spinning so fast around me, and I was caught in the tornado. Whipped one way and then another. Torn to pieces and lost. All I could think about was escaping, and I couldn’t see anything until I finally stopped and looked back. I didn’t want that pain and fear and anger and sadness. I would never get better if the waves of this continued to knock me over.

“Okay,” I said in a barely audible voice.

Melanie leaned back on her heels. “Really?”

“You’re suggesting the recovery house, yeah?” I wouldn’t be ready to go back to Serenity or Phoenix for a few days.

“Doctor Ava, at least,” said Mel. “She can help you. She specializes in PTSD and came here specifically for the opportunity to work with the kids.”

I had braced myself for that. “I’ll try not to attack her again.”

Mel cracked a smile. “That’s a start.”

She reached out to me, but I pulled back again.

“A start,” she repeated. “Maybe we can have her come here instead of making you go to the recovery house.”

“Really?” I asked, my turn to be surprised.

With a small smile, she picked up and walked over to a photo of the huge cactus outside in the morning sun. “Can you tell me more about your art? You know I’ve never had the eye.”

I straightened my dress and stood, telling myself I could do this. It had been my choice to call her, and she now asked about something I enjoyed. She was trying. We couldn’t connect over our pasts because I wanted mine left in the dust. However, I could make one little effort, too, and hope that’s all it would take to start something new with Mel.