Chapter 22 Anna
ANNA
“CHUUUUUURCH!”
The bellowing of Cap’s voice stirred me from my slumber. I groaned as I rolled over, and hitting the cool sheets next to me made my heart sink into my chest. Two for two, I thought to myself. Second morning I allowed him to be here, second morning he wasn’t.
Until I heard voices outside my door.
“You heard Cap,” Bee said, “we have t—”
My brother’s voice came out as nothing but a growl. “If you fucking hurt her, I will kill you.”
Christ, that was better than a gallon of caffeine. I bolted upright in bed, my hair moving about as I tried swiping it out of my face. I was ready to give my brother a piece of my mind. Who the fuck did he think he was, threatening Brutus like that?
I threw the covers off me before I heard Bee’s voice. “I would never, King.”
“I don’t fucking care what you think you’d do or not do. She’s been hurt before. I’ve watched her collapse over the men in her life that trample all over her heart. It won’t happen again. I won’t hold her and dry her tears again, I’ll just wring your fucking neck.”
“I know, Kay,” Bee said with so much sincerity in his voice that it brought tears to my tired eyes. “I see it written all over her face every time she comes out of that room when I should be there. I know she’s been hurt.”
My brother practically snarled. “I swear to fucking hell, Brutus, if you—”
“King, you have to believe me, all I’m trying to do is be good enough.”
I hung my head as my lower lip quivered.
The idea that Brutus thought he wasn’t good enough for me made my heart shatter into pieces.
Cap bellowed at the top of his lungs again, and I heard Amanda curse him from somewhere in the house.
I didn’t even stick around for the rest of the conversation.
I simply silenced my footsteps on the carpet like my brother taught me how to do a long fucking time ago, and I made my way to the bathroom.
I needed to clean up.
I allowed myself a moment in the shower to just cry. His words echoed off the corners of my mind like a whisper in a haunted house. He was just trying to be good enough.
I needed to be good enough.
“We’re gonna shave, girl,” I mumbled to myself as the hot water poured over me in the shower. “We’re gonna shave and dress up and splash on some lip gloss.”
Because if Bee put in the effort, then so was I.
Everything showers were the worst. I hated them with a fucking passion.
It was akin to fat girl yoga in the middle of a goddamn marathon, and who the hell stopped to do yoga in the middle of a fucking marathon?
I stretched myself into angles I hadn’t achieved in ages.
Usually, I just let the backs of my thighs be hairy. Not today, though.
Brutus deserved every single ounce of his efforts poured back into him.
I wasn’t sure what was sweat and what was water by the time I got out of the shower. I ran leave-in conditioner through my hair that I hadn’t even opened yet. Thank fuck shit like that didn’t have expiration dates on it.
I probably had this goddamn thing for two damn years.
I scrunched my hair and washed my face. Brushing my teeth was a fiasco because I damn near gagged myself in the mornings every single time I did it. Tears poured from my eyes and snot dripped from my nose by the time I was done, but it was done.
“Now for breakfast,” I muttered to myself.
After slipping into one of my nicer sundresses since it was growing chilly outside and I’d soon have to switch over to my jeans and sweatshirts, I made my way into the kitchen.
There wasn’t a man in sight, which meant they were most likely still in that church meeting.
Hopefully, my brother didn’t wring Bee’s neck yet.
I wanted at least one more ride on that dick of his.
I had peace and quiet in my kitchen for the first time in what felt like ages.
I moved around like a seasoned professional, if I said so myself.
I was a routine gal, and to be honest, it was hard having a house full of people for so long.
But King and the guys knew my place inside and out.
They’d be able to defend this place at the drop of a hat.
I just hoped it didn’t come to that.
After scrambling some eggs and frying up some bacon, I decided to make butterswim biscuits along with some gravy with the bacon grease and leftover sausage in the fridge.
I decided to chop up some melon, just so the entire breakfast wasn’t a complete gut bomb.
And then, I poured two heaping mugs of coffee.
“Please be over soon,” I muttered as I balanced the massive tray filled with food for both me and the big guy.
Hopefully, their church meeting didn’t last much longer.
Somehow I balanced everything long enough to get it back to my room.
I didn’t really have a table in my room, but I did have a couple of chairs and larger bedside tables than normal.
I shimmied one of them out from against the wall before placing the two chairs on either side of it.
And just as I settled the tray on top of the bedside table so that we’d have somewhere to eat, my bedroom door burst open.
There he stood. In all his glory. Mountainous in form, hunched over to get through the doorway before he rose to his full height.
I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face. “Morning.”
His gaze bounced from me to the food. Me and the food. Me. Food. Me. Food. Then ultimately, back to me.
“I don’t know what’s better to focus on.”
I giggled as I held out my hand to his chair. “Come. Sit. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
He reached out and closed my bedroom door behind him. “I hoped to get back before you woke up.”
I winked at him. “No such luck, I’m afraid.”
“I’m sorry I have to keep leaving.”
I shook my head as we sat together. “No apologies necessary.”
“Yes, apologies,” he said as he reached for his mug of coffee, “I should be—”
“Tell me what you can from the meeting,” I said, quickly changing the subject.
I didn’t want our morning to be filled with negativity and regrets.
I wanted to enjoy his presence.
His eyes danced between mine before he swallowed his coffee. “You know I can’t say much.”
I shrugged and picked up my fork. “Tell me what you can. What are the other guys telling their girls?”
He snickered. “Probably everything.”
I wiggled my eyebrows. “Then get to talkin’, hot stuff.”
His stare darted back to mine before he drew in a deep breath. “The DOJ has enough from us now.”
That got me to pause. “They’re opening up the investigation?”
He grinned. “More like they finally put the team together, and when the team sat down and assessed everything, they packed their things.”
I gasped. “They’re on the way!?”
He placed his finger to his lips before he nodded, keeping himself silent. I cupped my hand over my mouth and giggled, both out of sheer delight as well as excitement.
Finally, there was an end in sight to all this shit we were pulled into by The Iron Battalion.
But then another question came to mind, and my hand slid away from my mouth. “How’s Charise? That girl my brother’s looking after?”
Brutus nodded. “King says she’s doing good.
Talking a little more. Getting her appetite back.
She’s got another appointment with Doc today.
He hopes she’ll let him draw blood. He’s worried she’s got some sort of infection.
King says there’s a smell on her breath in the morning sometimes that doesn’t go away when she brushes. ”
I crooked an eyebrow. “My brother knows what her morning breath smells like?”
Bee paused and pointed his fork at me. “You didn’t hear that from me.”
I acted like I zipped my lips closed and locked them with a lock. I flicked the imaginary key away before I hit him with another question.
“Have my brother and his guys figured out anything about the kidnapped woman from this area?”
Bee’s eyebrows rose on his forehead before he leaned back in his chair. “That’s what I wanted to tell you originally. It was a trap.”
My jaw hit the fucking floor. “A what?”
“King heard back from the sheriff. Turns out, those microphones on those cameras The Devil’s Legion petitioned are fucking outstanding. The kidnapping was staged. They were attempting to lure people out who would help, and then take them.”
My jaw hit the fucking floor. “They’ve got a woman working for them in that ring!?”
“It’s her! That’s her! Marla, that’s her! Marla, that’s her! Marla, that’s her!”
Charise’s voice rang out across my house while she chanted. I looked at Brutus with widened eyes before the two of us took off, leaving breakfast in our wake. He barely got the door opened for me before we both crashed out into the hallway, and I ran as quickly as my little flip flops would allow.
Charise’s voice grew to feverish pitches.
“It’s her! It’s her! It’s her! It’s her!”
“Hey, hey, hey,” I heard my brother saying in a calm, collected voice. “It’s all right. It’s just a picture. She’s not here.”
“She took me! It’s her! She took me! It’s her!”
I rounded the corner into the room Charise occupied and I saw her hitting herself. Doc had a handle on her wrists, and my brother had her wrapped up from behind. Marla, bless her soul, did her fucking best to get through to the woman, but it was clear she was spun up in something.
Another flashback, maybe.
“The fuck did you guys do!?” I exclaimed.
“It’s her! It’s her! It’s her! It’s her!” Charise practically shrieked as she tried hitting herself.
Doc released her long enough to reach down into his bag before he pulled out a needle. “She’s gonna feel a pinch.”
“Nooooo! Get her away! It’s her! It’s her! It’s her!”
“Who’s her?” I asked breathlessly as I rushed over to Charise while Doc plunged the needle into the top of Charise’s arm.
The woman moaned out as she collapsed back against my brother. “Don’t let her take me again. Pleeeeeease.”
“Who?” I whispered as I tried to get in front of her. “Who, Charise?”
“The woman,” Marla said as she tapped my shoulder. I turned and saw her holding a black and white picture out for me to look at.
It didn’t take a genius for me to realize that they actually got a clean shot off that camera of the face of the woman helping the ring. The woman who pretended to be kidnapped.
“I thought I was heeeelpiiiiiing,” Charise whined out as the drug Doc gave her began to sedate her.
“I know,” my brother whispered as he sank to the floor with her. “I know you were just trying to help.”
I gawked as I slowly turned back to Brutus. He stood there, his fists clenched at his sides, and I just held the picture out to him. He looked at it and nodded, but he refused to unclench his fists and take it. So I held onto it, staring down at it as realization crossed my features.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered as I handed the picture back to Marla.
“Let’s give them some space,” Doc said as he ushered all of us out.
“Nooooooo,” Charise groaned before she sobbed against my brother.
Charise was caught up in their attempt. Caught up in their trap, just trying to help out another woman.
The question was, was the woman willingly helping them?
Or was she a guilty participant?