Chapter Twenty-Seven
Mimic
“I’m so sorry, Indie.” Nav’s words hit us all.
It was yet another thing Indie and I had in common. Our mothers had been killed by sadistic sons of bitches whose only motives were power and sex.
Death and destruction followed us everywhere we went.
I leaned over and pulled her against me, whispering in her ear, “I’m so fucking sorry.”
She nodded, but she didn’t cry. Her face was blank in expression. I hated the look on her face. Hated the pain she was feeling.
I’d always known my mother was gone. Dakota made sure of it. He taunted me every day about how she’d told him where to find me. How to find me. He’d convinced me that she didn’t want me. Saying that shit over and over to a child wasn’t just traumatic, it was pure evil.
As children, we believed adults told us the truth. We believed they would never lie. It was the innocence of childhood that made us trust the grownups in our lives.
My brain at the time couldn’t rationalize what he was saying.
My mother couldn’t have told him where I was and how to find me because she didn’t know.
He’d taken her first. For years, she’d tried to make him believe that we didn’t exist. Even if she’d given in and told him about us, by the time he would have gone back to the house, we were gone.
Living alone on the street. She wouldn’t have known where we’d gone.
But that was what I’d believed. Because as a child, we believed adults told the truth. As adults ourselves, we knew people lied. Everybody lied. People might tell themselves they didn’t, but everyone did. Not all lies were deceitful. That was the difference.
Lies and deceit were not the same thing.
A lie could be harmless. Telling a friend you didn’t like their new haircut, to spare their feelings, was a white lie that was harmless. If they were happy with it, and it made them feel good, your opinion didn’t matter.
After all, taste was subjective. One man’s trash was another man’s treasure. Wasn’t that the cliché?
So we lied.
We covered up our own feelings to make sure our friends weren’t hurt.
But deceit?
Deceit was devious. It was intentional. It was used to build power and money. Deceit wasn’t just dishonesty; it was so much more. It was manipulation used to control the situation you were in or the people around you.
Indie took a deep breath. As if blowing out her grief meant she wouldn’t feel it. That she could push it away. If only it worked that easily.
“How do we find out if this shit is true?” she asked, looking at King. “You have a plan, right?”
“I do.” He nodded at her before looking at Haizley.
Haizley groaned. “This is not a good idea.”
“It’s the only way,” King argued.
“It’s not the only fucking way, and you know it,” she countered.
“Then what do you suggest?”
“A controlled environment.”
“We have one of those downstairs.”
My head snapped to my president. Was he suggesting what I thought he was fucking suggesting? The only things downstairs were the medical wing, the gym, and the fucking cells. The same fucking cells that held the man I was going to kill.
“No fucking way!” I shouted.
“This isn’t your decision,” Indie whispered.
“The fuck it isn’t. You’re my fucking old lady!”
“What? When did that happen?” Haizley asked.
“It hasn’t, not really.” Gunner explained to Haizley about the meeting, who Indie’s father was, and why King told him she was my old lady.
I stared at Indie. She refused to look at me, but I could wait. I wasn’t letting her be used in this sick, twisted game King was playing. I wouldn’t let her put herself at risk for information we didn’t need. Let them find one of the other girls for their fucked-up experiment.
“It’s my decision, Mimic. I need to know the truth.”
“King, you can’t do this. Not like this. There are too many what-ifs,” Haizley pleaded.
Indie stared at King. She knew what he wanted to do. Hell, we’d all figured it out by now. When she nodded, he stood from his chair and slammed the gavel on the table.
“Let’s move this party downstairs.”
“NO!” I slammed my fist on the table, causing Indie to jump.
“Can you give us a minute, please?” Indie asked.
King nodded and said, “Mimic can bring you downstairs when you’re done.”
They all shuffled out of the room, Haizley arguing with both King and Gunner. When the doors closed, I spun back to Indie.
“Are you fucking insane?”
“Probably.” She shrugged.
“This isn’t a game, Indie.”
“No, it’s my life. A life I have never had one fucking sliver of control over. This I can control. This is my decision. My choice. You don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t fucking do.” She stood up and moved toward the door. Following her, I grabbed her arm and pulled her back against me.
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Apparently, I’m a fucking trained assassin.”
“What if it’s all bullshit? What if you don’t know any of this shit and you can’t protect yourself and that son of a bitch hurts you? He’s already done it once. I won’t fucking let him do it again.”
“Do you trust King?”
What a fucking loaded question that was. It wasn’t one I could answer. Whatever answer I gave her would fuck me in the ass.
Did I trust my president? The man who knew I was lying and let me join the club anyway? The man I had seen put his life on the line countless times to protect his men, the club, and his family?
Of course, I fucking trusted him. I trusted him with my fucking life. But if I said yes, she would throw it in my face that I needed to trust him now.
Except I didn’t trust him with her life.
I didn’t trust anyone with her life. Not even myself at times.
She was too precious, too perfect. I didn’t care about the shit she had gone through; I mean, I cared that she went through it.
A piece of me died hearing she had grown up in that shithole.
Knowing what we knew, I could only imagine the things she’d had to do.
If I told her I didn’t trust him, she would ask me why I was here. And I wasn’t ready to reveal that yet. My sister was the only person who knew. It was clear Dakota didn’t know why I was here, or even that I was here. If he knew, he would have come for me by now.
He wasn’t happy when his father let me go. He wasn’t happy I had beaten the shit out of him and left him lying bleeding and broken on the mat, like he had done to me countless times.
I bruised his ego.
There would be retribution for that when he found me. If he found me. Unless I found him first.
“You can’t answer that, can you?”
“Of course, I fucking trust him. With my life. Just not with yours.”
She stepped close; her hands went to the sides of my face.
“Then trust me. Trust that I know a good man when I see one. I’ve had experience with enough of the bad ones to know when a good one is disguised as a bad one.
King might be an asshole, but he has a heart.
He has morals that would never allow me to be put in danger. ”
“We don’t know what the fuck will happen.”
“Which is why we need to do this. Mimic, I have friends out there. Girls I spent every day with, in a horrific place. We bonded. Yes, it’s a trauma bond, but it’s a bond, nonetheless.
I’m worried about them. I already lost one; I need to help make sure the others are safe.
And the only way to do that is to have all the information. ”
She stepped back, closer to the door. Her eyes were filled with sadness I didn’t want to see.
“What if it were Kytten? What if my doing this had helped you find Kytten when she was out there somewhere?”
I dropped my chin to my chest. She knew just where to hit me to make it hurt. Guilt rushed through me because I knew if it was Rose, if allowing Indie to go through this hell and possibly get hurt, maybe even killed, helped me find my sister, not only would I allow it. I would fucking push for it.
I’d do anything to make sure my sister was safe. Even if it meant putting someone else at risk.
“Those girls out there—they’re my sisters.
They’re just like me. Alone, scared, wondering who they can trust and who is searching for them.
If my father was the one who put this in motion, knowing what he would get in return, then maybe their fathers did the same.
They could be being hunted right now and not have a clue about how much danger they’re in.
I have to do this, Mimic. And you won’t stop me. ”
She was right. We needed this information if those girls had any hope of surviving. I hated that it had to be her, but she was the only one we knew about. She was the one who was here.
I looked into her eyes and took a step forward. She held her ground. I bumped her chest with mine until she took a step back. Advancing on her until her back hit the wall.
“I fucking love you, Indigo Cambridge.”
Her mouth opened in a sharp gasp, and I pounced.
I pressed her further into the wall as I covered her body with mine.
I knew they were waiting for us, so I couldn’t do what I wanted to.
But fuck her if she thought she was going anywhere.
Fuck her if she thought she couldn’t be my first because of everything she’d been through.
She was fucking mine. And I was fucking keeping her, even if I had to chain her to my fucking bed.
I pushed my tongue into her mouth, and she melted into me. Her hands gripped my hips, her fingers dipping under the waistband as she pulled me closer.
Her soft whimpers escalated as I pushed my hard bulge against her, telling her what I wanted from her. My mouth trailed a line across her jaw to her ear.
“After this is over, I’m taking you to my room so I can fuck you. You can fight me; you can try to stop it. But you’re mine, Indie. I’m not fucking playing anymore.”
I pulled back away from her as she slumped against the wall. She stared at me, arousal mirrored on her face. Her throat bounced as she swallowed whatever protest she had.
I held out my hand without a word. She looked down at it before returning her eyes to me. A small smile rested on her lips as she took my hand.
We made the long walk downstairs together. Hand in hand. I wanted her to know she had me. I might not like what she was about to go through, but I had her back.
Haizley and King were in a corner arguing. She was stauncher in her opposition than I was. I wondered if Indie could pull her around the way she did me.
King noticed our hands clasped together and shook his head before putting his hand up in front of Haizley’s face. “Woman, enough.”
“Asshole,” Haizley muttered, then stomped over to stand in front of Indie. “I need to know you’re sure.”
Indie looked at me briefly before turning back to Haizley. “I’m sure. As I told Mimic, those girls are my sisters. We need to know the truth, for them.”
“I don’t like this one bit, but you’re right. It is your decision. I can’t stay though.”
She hugged Indie, then went to leave. Indie stopped her and asked, “Will you still be my friend?”
Haizley’s head tilted to the side as her eyes filled with tears. She pulled Indie in for another hug and whispered, “You’re stuck with me, bitch.”
Indie barked out a laugh, but I saw the tension leave her shoulders immediately. I wondered if Haizley’s answer had been different, would it have stopped her from doing this; however, looking at Indie, I knew it wouldn’t.
“Let’s get started.”