Chapter 13 – Betsy
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BETSY
“God, I forgot how fucking hot these suits are,” I complain as I shift in my all-black leather biker gear.
“Shh, it’s a must. We need to blend into the night, and it’s also essential to have protective wear,” Eden chastises me.
I roll my eyes and unzip the front of my jacket, breathing a sigh of relief when the warm summer breeze dances across my chest.
“Woah, I didn’t realise the girls were going to be a part of the stake-out,” Mor teases, nudging at my full cleavage on display.
“Well, if there wasn’t a damn heatwave, and you weren’t making me wear all leather gear, the girls wouldn’t have to make an appearance.
Just be thankful they aren’t fully out, because I am close to just unzipping it and freeing them completely,” I warn her, not even joking.
I can feel the sweat trickling down my back as we sit and watch Verity’s house.
“I don’t think that’s a threat. You have magnificent breasts. Seriously,” Eden compliments.
“Er, thanks, I guess. They’re just boobs.” I shrug.
“Ha, don’t let a guy hear you say they’re just boobs.” Mor snorts.
“True, men will literally get on their knees and grovel for a pair of tits,” Eden adds.
“And that is why men are the inferior species,” I sigh.
“Well, I get on my knees for Nyx. Quite often, actually,” Mor adds.
“Oh god, can we leave the ‘you and Nyx sex talk’ out of tonight’s stake-out conversations? We have to talk to him, you know, and hearing you talk about his balls is a step too far,” I plead.
“All I said was that he had a perfect pair of balls. He takes care of them. They are bald, smooth, and moisturised,” Mor again informs us.
I begin retching. “I can’t. Urgh. I can’t sit through it again.”
Eden laughs, elbowing Mor. “Stop it, or she will empty her stomach right here.”
“Sorry,” Mor apologises, while fighting a smile. I flip them both off, which only makes them laugh harder.
“Shh!” I hiss.
They cover their mouths with their hands to muffle the sound, and a chuckle escapes me too.
Honestly, some days I wonder how we’ve managed to get as far as we have.
People fear us, and here we are, talking about moisturising balls.
The front door to Verity’s house opens, and we all freeze what we are doing and watch her as she gets into her car and drives off.
“Let’s go!” I whisper-yell over my shoulder as I run down the street to her house.
“Wait!” Mor yells.
I ignore her and run around the back, testing the back door to see if it's unlocked. I grin when it opens the first time.
“Nyx is going to be losing his shit in the van,” Mor whispers. Mor had managed to convince Nyx and the other lap dogs to wait in the van parked further up, and if we need them, we will give them the signal.
“He will get over it,” Eden brushes her off, following me as I enter the house.
Keeping my gun aimed as I move slowly through the kitchen, we walk through to the main living area and pause.
On the wall are our pictures and newspaper printouts about the Sanctuary.
Our names are written under each photo, and old club members’ photos have red crosses over them. “Holy shit,” Eden breathes.
“I think we can confirm this is the person behind the threat,” I mutter, looking at all the information on the wall. I pull out my phone and begin taking pictures.
“What’s this?” I hear Mor ask as she goes to open a box, and that’s when I hear a click.
“NO!” I yell. As the word leaves my mouth, a quiet ticking echoes around the room.
“Get out now!” I scream, running for the front door; only as I try to open it, I realise it’s locked and won’t open.
I aim my gun at the lock and shoot repeatedly, causing part of the wooden door to splinter everywhere.
I lift my right foot and kick the door hard, making the door swing open.
We don’t waste another second. We run, but we only make it to the bottom step when an almighty explosion erupts, throwing us from the house.
I collide hard with a parked car, crying out as my shoulder slams against the metal frame.
My ears are ringing, and my vision is blurred as I try and get to my feet to look for Mor and Eden.
I cough through the smoke. “Mor! Eden!” I yell, looking all around me for them.
“Over here!” Mor yells. I turn towards the sound, stumbling forward, coughing and holding my arm as my shoulder screams in agony.
I squint as I start to see figures as I approach, and that’s when I see Mor holding her head.
Blood is pouring down her face. I hold out my hand to her to take, and she stands.
I groan as I help her to her feet. “Where is Eden?” She coughs.
“I don’t know,” I answer.
“Mor! Mor!” we hear Nyx yell, his voice raw with panic.
“I’m here!” Mor yells. “Here!” she yells again. Through the thick smoke, Nyx appears, running towards us, his eyes looking over Mor from head to toe before looking over me. He quickly cups her face, placing a soft kiss on her lips.
“Oh, thank fuck,” he breathes.
I shuffle back and continue to look for Eden. “Eden!” I yell again.
Nyx keeps hold of Mor as we look around. I squint, seeing what looks like Eden’s boot.
“There!” I yell, rushing forward, ignoring the pain it causes.
I drop to my knees beside Eden and check her over.
She’s bleeding and unconscious. I hear footsteps approach and look up to find Josh and another lap dog there, their eyes wide with concern.
“She’s okay; she’s knocked out. Take her back to the van, and one of you will have to ride her bike back to the Sanctuary,” I order.
“We need to get you all to a hospital,” Nyx states.
“No,” Mor and I both say in unison.
“We have Clare at the Sanctuary,” Mor affirms.
“I will meet you guys there,” I say as I hobble to my bike.
“You can’t be serious in thinking you can still ride?” Nyx asks in disbelief.
“We can’t leave the bikes here,” I remind him.
“Shit. Mor, I will ride your bike. You can sit on the back,” Nyx orders.
“I’m fine,” Mor says as she wobbles on her feet.
“Mor, let Nyx ride,” I plead with her. She relents and nods, just as sirens ring out.
“We need to go now,” I warn. I make it to my bike; one of the lap dogs rides Eden’s bike, while Josh drives the van back with Eden.
I ride behind Nyx and Mor, just in case she passes out and falls off.
I wince in agony at my shoulder as we turn into bends.
I don’t think I have ever been so happy to see the Sanctuary as I am right in this very moment.
My bike wobbles as I slow, and as I come to a stop, I struggle to control it.
I remove my keys, killing the engine, and awkwardly slide off.
“Easy,” Bernie says, helping me inside. The ringing is still here in my ears, even though it’s quieter now.
As we walk inside, Clare is seeing Eden, checking her vitals.
I slump down on a seat in the corner, and Mor walks over to me, handing me a bottle of whisky.
I take it and down a large gulp. The burn and the warmth down my throat is a welcome distraction from the disaster in front of me.
“What the hell happened?” Mor rasps.
“We underestimated Verity,” I murmur. My gaze is fixed on Clare with Eden, watching and waiting to see that she’s going to be alright.
“She knew we would find her,” Mor states, taking another sip of whisky.
“She did,” I agree.
“Do you think she knew we were going to her place tonight?” Mor asks, her voice rough from the smoke and dust.
“No, if she did, then she would have been here. She would have attacked the one place we love. She would have taken full advantage while we were distracted. She knew at some point we would find her. She was prepared for that,” I croak, trying to clear my throat.
Mor holds out the bottle for me to take another sip, and I shake my head in refusal.
“No, I need to be sober enough to ride home,” I state.
“You can’t fucking go home,” Mor says with determination.
“I can, and I will. I want my own bed, and I need to just...” I pause, trying to figure out a way to say the next part. “I need to be alone,” I say vaguely, not voicing the full truth.
The truth is that I will go home and stand under that hot shower and cry. I will stand there and talk through the words my therapist has given me to help me cope. I needed quiet and to be in my own headspace.
Mor takes my hand in hers and gives it a soft squeeze. “I get it, but you know that—”
“That I’m going to have to take a lap dog with me,” I say, cutting her off, finishing her sentence for her.
She grins as Nyx comes over and bends down, his eyes full of love and worry. Mor looks at him, a small smile of reassurance across her lips as she cups his face affectionately.
“It’s okay,” she whispers to him. He grits his jaw tight and places a kiss on the palm of her hand.
Clare walks over to us and crouches down. “She’s okay. She will wake up in a little while, I’m sure. Although, I could do with a scanner to check there is no bleeding on the brain.” She sighs as she looks at me slumped over to one side. “You’ve dislocated your shoulder,” she points out.
“Yep.” I nod in agreement.
“Okay, I need you to lie down on the floor. Nyx, I’m going to need you to hold her in place as I push her arm back into the correct place,” Clare instructs as she stands.
I do as I’m told and move to the floor and lie down, cringing as she firmly grabs hold of my arm.
“Ready?” she asks Nyx and me. I nod, not bothering to look at Nyx.
Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I brace myself for the pain that I know is to come. Then she pulls.
A guttural scream roars from my throat at the intense pain, and what feels like a loud popping sound rings out in my ears, and the pain eases slightly as Clare stops pulling. I breathe through my pain, fighting the urge to throw up.
Opening my eyes, I look up to see Nyx gazing down at me with concern. “You good?” he asks.