4. Sammy
CHAPTER 4
SAMMY
I wanted to kill him. Out of all the places he could have stopped in for a cup of coffee tonight, he had to walk into Hit the Bull’s Pie. I’d been doing fine on my own. The past five years had been hard, but I’d managed. Now, within hours of seeing Juice again, my entire life had been ripped apart.
The hulk manning the gate at the entrance to the Mustang Mountain Riders compound glanced over at me. “Park in front of the clubhouse. Juice is on his way to meet you.”
I nodded and eased my car through the gate. I’d heard him say I looked a little unhinged. After a quick glance in the rearview mirror, I agreed. Mascara smeared across my cheeks, and my eyes were bloodshot from bawling. I didn’t care what I looked like. All I cared about was getting my son back.
There wasn’t anywhere to park, so I stopped in the middle of the drive. Rain pelted the windshield, but I didn’t feel a thing when I got out of the car.
“Sammy!” Juice jogged toward me. “What are you doing here?”
My fingers curled into two tight fists. When he was close enough to reach, I hauled back and tried to land a punch to his chin. “You bastard!”
He easily caught my hand in mid-air. “Whoa. What’s wrong?”
“It’s all your fault.” I swung at him with my other fist. He pulled back, and my punch barely grazed his chin.
“What the hell’s going on?” His arms wrapped around mine, pinning them against my sides. Juice kicked the door to my car shut, then manhandled me into the clubhouse.
“Need some help?” A guy held the door for us as Juice half-carried, half-dragged me inside.
“Can you find a place to park the car?” Juice asked. The guy nodded and pulled the door closed behind him.
I struggled against Juice’s tight grip, but it didn’t do any good. “Let me go. We’ve got to go after him.”
“Who?” Juice let go to open a door in front of us, then flipped on the light as he nudged me into the room.
“Oliver.” I rounded on him. “The guy from the cafe followed me home. Said he’d been looking for a way to get back at the Mustang Mountain Riders. He waited until the babysitter left, then took him. You’ve got to get him back.”
“What the fuck?” The door flew open, and a huge man stood in the doorway. “I can hear you all the way from the kitchen.”
“I’ve got this.” Juice tried to shut the door, but the man wouldn’t budge.
I didn’t have time for the two of them to have a pissing contest. It had already taken me way too long to make the drive to Mustang Mountain and figure out where to find the clubhouse. Every minute mattered.
“Juice, I need your help.” Water streamed down my cheeks, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the rain or from crying. Both of us were soaked through from head to toe, but I didn’t feel anything except for the icy cold grip of fear squeezing my heart.
“Who’s she?” the giant asked.
Juice gave up trying to shut him out. He stepped away from the door and headed toward a wet bar at the back of the room. “Shooter, meet Sammy.”
“Sammy, it’s a pleasure.” Shooter held out his hand.
I ignored it and rushed toward Juice. “We’ve got to do something.”
He handed me a wad of paper towels he’d pulled from a roll on the counter. “Slow down. Tell me exactly what happened.”
I didn’t want to tell him about Oliver. On the drive to Mustang Mountain, I’d tried to figure out a way to secure his help without telling him the whole truth. Juice was a good guy, and I had no doubt he’d do the right thing. But I needed him to be fully invested. He had to know what was at stake if I wanted him to take the threat seriously.
Taking a deep breath, I swabbed the rain away from my face and my hairline with the paper towels. Then I lifted my chin and stared straight into his eyes. “The Savage Bones took Oliver. They said if I wanted to see him again, I needed to bring a representative from the Mustang Mountain Riders to the cafe tomorrow morning.”
“What’s she talking about, Juice?” Shooter’s brow furrowed.
“Sammy,”—Juice reached for my hands—“who’s Oliver?”
He ran his thumb over the back of my hand. My knuckles hurt from trying to punch him in the face, but it was nowhere near the pain that pierced my heart. I’d been keeping the truth to myself for so long. Once I told him, I wouldn’t be able to take it back. I didn’t have a choice.
“Oliver is my son.” I exhaled a jagged breath as Juice’s eyes widened.
“You have a kid? I didn’t know.” His fingers closed around mine. “Why do the Savage Bones care about that? Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pull you into anything.”
Shooter cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “What else aren’t you telling us?”
“Settle down, bro. She’s dealing with a lot. Her kid’s been taken by the Savage Bones because of us, because of me.” Juice pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around me. “I promise we’ll get him back. They’ve sunk to an entirely new level. If they want a piece of us, they can try to take it. But pulling your kid into this… fuck… that’s low. ”
I wanted to rest my cheek on his chest and lean into his strength. Would have given anything to wake up and realize the past few hours had just been a horrific nightmare.
“There’s more, isn’t there?” Shooter said, his voice low.
“Go see if you can find her something dry to put on, will you? Ashley or Rae probably have something that will fit her.” Juice smoothed his hand over the wet strands of hair plastered to my cheek. “I’m going to grab Thunder, and we’ll figure out what we need to do. Will you be okay in here for a few minutes, or do you want to come with me?”
Shooter had left the room, but his words still hung in the air. He was right. There was something I hadn’t told them yet.
“Juice,”—I pulled back, still caught up between the confusing desire to hurt him so he could feel what I was feeling and holding onto him for dear life.
“What is it?”
“Shooter’s right. There’s something I haven’t told you.” My stomach twisted and turned until it formed a tight knot. I didn’t want to tell him, especially not like this.
He leaned down, putting himself at eye level with me. “I know we lost touch, but you’re still the best friend I’ve ever had. You can tell me anything, Sam.”
Nodding, I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. “It’s just that… Oliver’s not just my son. He belongs to you, too.”