Chapter 15
Violet
“ Y ou fucking bitch!” The tubby guard yells, gripping the side of his neck. I can see the blood seeping through his fingers, and I spit a hunk of skin from his neck onto the ground.
I grin at him, ignoring the searing pain in the side of my face where I was punched by the thin guard when he tried to tear my clothes off. If these fuckers want to try and rape me they’ll have to fight me first. I would rather die than have their hands all over me.
“You fucking wait. You won’t be able to fight forever little girl. And when you can’t? One of us will put a baby in you,” he sneers.
Gross. Who the hell would want a kid he fathered? He shoves me onto the bed and glares before storming out the door, leaving traces of blood on the handle. I pick up the bottle of water he delivered and throw it at the door, getting little satisfaction when it explodes on impact. I refuse to drink anything the guards give me after I noticed the tamper seal was broken. They’ve probably spiked it. Luckily there is an adjoining bathroom so I’ll just drink tap water.
I lie back on the bed, and hope like hell that someone out there is looking for me. Or at the very least that Jules has found Juno. There’s no way that man wouldn’t be tracking her every move. I roll to my side and curl up, my adrenaline leaching from my body, making me feel every ache and pain since this whole ordeal started. I tuck my shaking hands under my head, and take deep calming breaths.
“I am in control of my body,” I whisper to myself. I’ve overheard Jules doing this every now and then, and I think it’s working.
I mean, it seems to work for him, so why wouldn’t it work for me? My heart rate settles as I focus on Jules. He can be a pain in the ass and impossible and yet, I can’t stop thinking about him. Even when he makes me mad enough to spit there’s still something about him, deep down that I’m drawn to. That makes me want to wrap him up in my arms and tell him it’ll all be alright. I snort, thinking about him like that. A big, strapping man with a “dont fuck with me face” that somehow, if you look really closely, gives off lost little boy vibes.
He also gives off filthy sex vibes and I feel my heart begin to speed up again, but for an entirely different reason. If he could just stop being so guarded, I think we could perhaps be a good match for each other. Instead he gives me the best night of sex I’ve ever had then freaks out and watches me walk out.
Shaking those thoughts off I look around the room for the thousandth time. There has to be something I can use as a weapon, or some way out of here. Something that can improve my chances of leaving this hell hole un-pregnant.
My eyes snap toward the door as I hear the lock disengage. I stand at the foot of the bed, feet planted, ready for round number three. I’ve injured two guards so far, may as well make it a hat trick. Also, I need to remember to thank Jazz and Lil for forcing me to take self defense classes with them. So far it’s come in handy.
“Follow me,” the gruff guard barks. He’s new. Probably because the other two are licking their wounds somewhere.
“No,.” I answer him plainly.
He makes a growling sound in the back of his throat so I echo him. I maintain eye contact the whole time. His eyes narrow and he stomps forward, gripping me around the bicep. I think about going boneless and dropping to the ground, but I also kinda wanna see where this is leading to. I want to know more about the inside of this building and see if I can find any weaknesses.
“I said, follow me,” he grits through clenched teeth, so I cooperate. Slightly. I may be dragging my feet, but I’m moving.
We head down a long hall, doors lining both sides, the only clue to the occupants the whiteboard’s hanging on the doors with their attributes scribbled on them.
Short, blonde, blue eyed. 18
Tall, black. 23
Average height, brunette, brown eyes. 27
There are at least a dozen of them and I start to feel a little nauseous. This isn’t some hick setup, this is an actual real fucking deal. We reach a large hall, dining tables and chairs set up and along one wall a serving hatch. There are women here, some of them pregnant, some not. All look well looked after and yet there’s a stench of fear and shame to them. It’s stifling, making my heart both beat out of my chest and clench in pain .
“It’s dinner time. You better fucking eat or else we’ll administer a feeding tube.” He shoves me into the room and I stumble, falling knees first on the grey linoleum floor.
“Are you Ok?” a small voice asks, holding a hand out to help me up.
I wave her away, not wanting to put any extra weight on her as she has a large, round belly to take care of.
“Thank you, but I’m fine.” I smile at her, and she gives me a small one in return. She’s young, like maybe early twenties, and she’s a pretty thing, if not looking a little too thin for her condition.
“You don’t look that fine. Your face is all messed up,” her blue eyes show concern.
“Oh this? This is nothing. You should see the other guy,” I grin. I probably still have chubby guard in my teeth but I dont give a shit.
“I’m Phoebe.”
“Violet.
“Well, seeing as you’re here you may as well eat. We get fed three times a day, more if you’re pregnant.” She walks toward the serving hatch, so I trail behind her, smiling and trying to look friendly to those who are giving me curious looks. “You don’t have to worry about them poisoning you or anything. It hurts their bottom line if our babies aren’t healthy,” I can hear the sneer in her voice and I feel a little better knowing that this woman may seem like she’s beaten down, but she still has some fight in her.
“Well, if you say it’s safe,” I shrug and follow her in the line. “I was too afraid to eat or drink what they brought to my room.”
“You’re smart,” a tall, redhead says from behind me. “I did and I woke up bleeding.” I stare at her distended belly before meeting her eyes.
“I’m so sorry. But they will pay. I’ll make fucking sure of it.” She gives me a sympathetic smile, like I’m some delusional woman. I mean, I could very well be, but if I’m going down, I’m bringing this whole place down with me. I take my tray of surprisingly good looking food and follow the two women to a table. Sitting down at the head.
“So, tell me everything.”
Jules
“He’s here isn’t he? I can feel it in my waters. My balls are crawling their way into my belly just knowing that fucker is here,” Pops grumbles, earning weird looks from everyone around the clubhouse.
Pops has been bitching nonstop since it was agreed to call in Dima, or the “Manwitch” as Pops calls him.
“Look, we’ve been listening to you whine for close to two hours now, but what exactly is your problem with this guy?” Flack asks, looking at me and my brothers because he’ll get a straight answer out of us.
Gus lets out a sigh. “There’s nothing wrong with the guy. Other than he has visions, I guess you could call them.”
Brows raise around the common room. “There’s no such thing as ‘vision’. He just has great pattern recognition,” Dayz scoffs, snuggling with Rhodie and Chomper. “When will the Landrys be here?”
I roll my eyes. My sister wasn’t on the job where we met Dima. The Landrys introduced us and they’ll be travelling with him to vouch for his character. It’s bad enough we have the whole Davies family here, the last thing any of us want is to be bringing in another new person. Marx has been generous enough as it is, but at the end of the day this place is an MC full of families.
“They’re here,” Wire calls, eyes glued to his screen.
“Tell TumTum to let them through,” Marx rumbles.
TumTum may be a patched member, but turns out he likes gate duty. Moments later the doors open and in walk the Landrys, beelining for their sister, and then mine. Dima follows them in with TumTum bringing up the rear.
“Dima,” Gus says, shaking his hand. He turns to Marx, “Marx, this is Dima, Dima, the Pres of Devil’s Rose MC, Marx.”
Marx sizes him up for a moment, clearly impressed with his size. The Russian is tall, very close to Marx’s 6’4. He’s not quite as broad, having more of a swimmers build. Dima nods in acknowledgement and looks around the room. His eyes zero in on Juno, still in my arms, hours after finding her. The only time she’s let me put her down is when I needed to change her. Otherwise she’s clinging to me with her chubby little fists.
“We are looking for her mother, no?” Dima asks, his shock of blonde hair falling into his eyes as his head tilts, looking at Juno.
“Fuck no, I don’t know where her mother is, and I don’t care,” I growl at him.
He frowns for a moment, his eyes flutter before he locks onto mine. “Not the mother who gave her life. The mother who loves her.” He looks around the room, before gesturing in the Davies direction, “Their sem’ya , family. ”
The mother who loves her. Violet. I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. “Um, yeah, Violet.”
“I fucking told you!” Pops hisses at Rider who looks impressed so far.
Actually, looking around the common room everyone looks either impressed, or suspicious.
Dima walks toward Flora, stopping in front of the couch, his shiny black shoes just touching the base. He lowers to kneeling and takes Flora’s hand. Moss shuffles closer to his mother, hand hovering over his service weapon.
“Your mother is safe with me,.” Dima murmurs. “She has a strong connection to your sister, it will help me with her location.”
“See?” Pops whispers. “He’s like a creepy fucking dog. Actually, no, dogs are better. I’d be less creeped out if he sniffed Vi’s clothes and turned bloodhound.” Savage stares at him before rolling his lips between his teeth.
The Ol Ladies are all staring and Mira is taking notes. She’s even moved closer to the action. Everyone looks intrigued other than Dayz, who seems to be in an intense conversation with Dom Landry, probably about their gators.
“Roman incoming,” Wire calls, his eyes glued to his laptop. He remotely opens the gate as TumTum is at the bar watching the Russian kneeling at Flora’s feet.
“I have her location.” He stands to his full height, before stiffening.
“ Brat? ”
He turns slowly, looking toward the door. Sasha rushes forward, stopping when they come toe to toe. My eyes widen slightly when I realize why Dima always seemed somewhat familiar. Same hair, bone structure and build .
“You’d think his vision would have told him his brother was on his way, huh?” Pops whispers, loudly, to anyone within hearing distance.
Dima swallows. “I’m here to help find a missing woman.”
A smile grows on Sasha’s face. “You got your vision back, little brother?”
Dima’s demeanor relaxes, before he nods at Sasha. “ Da , just took a while.”
Sasha clasps his brother by the back of his neck, pulling him in close enough to rest his forehead on Dima’s.
“Marx,” Roman nods at him. “It would seem that yet again we cross paths.”
“And what brings you here?” Marx replies in a bored tone, not giving away how alert his eyes are, watching the scene happening between the two brothers.
“Strangely, not Dima’s presence. I have the name of the contact Candice Rogers was using. He was driving one of the three trucks that came through the port.” He turns to look at his husband. “Finding Sasha’s brother after all this time is a welcome surprise.”
“You’re the pakhan. How do you not know where your people are?” Dayz asks, her brows pinched.
“Because I am not bratva anymore,” Dima answers.
“He’s more, shall we say, bratva adjacent,” Roman says, waving his hand in the air.
Marx crosses his arms over his chest. “And what the fuck does that mean?”
“The bratva has always been good to me and my brother,” Dima interrupts, his eyes darting to Sasha. “However, my gift cannot be used for ill. That I learnt the hard way,” he says, shedding no fucking light on anything .
“Well, that’s all and good but where the hell is Vi?” I growl. I can only be polite and patient for so long.
He stares at me for a moment, “You will need help,” he looks around the room, his eyes assessing before nodding. “Everyone here will have a role to play. There is more at stake than Violet.”
“What do you mean?” Dayz asks, handing Chomper over to Rhodie.
Dima closes his eyes, his lips moving slightly. “There are twelve women, at least nine are heavily pregnant. There are children in a neighboring building.” He looks around the room again. “Everyone will be needed.”
“Well, you all heard the man,” Pops says, clapping his hands. “Thank you, Dima. You can go now.” He stands and tries to shoo the Russian away, Dima smirking at his efforts.
“Sorry, Pops. I need to be here. It’s my calling.”
Pops whispers, “Creepy motherfucker” under his breath but sits his ass back down. Marx turns to open his mouth but I’m scared and worried and impatient as fuck so I beat him to it.
“So, what’s the plan?