Chapter 17
Esther
I tried really hard to follow Otto’s directions, even though everything inside me told me to wait for him, but as I turned out onto the road going way too fast, I saw the motorcycles coming toward me. They weren’t in their lane.
Panicking, I swerved hard. Straight into the ditch.
I came to a jarring stop, biting my tongue in the process.
The motorcycles passed, turning into our driveway, and I let out a small sob of relief. They’d help Otto.
I nearly peed my pants when a gloved fist started pounding on my window.
“Hey, you okay?” the man yelled, yanking at the door.
He was wearing the same kind of vest that Otto wore. Friend.
“I’m okay,” I called back, fumbling with my seat belt and reaching for the lock at the same time.
“You sure?” he asked, throwing open the door. The car was sitting at a weird angle, and he had to stand against the door to keep it from closing again. “You’re bleedin’.”
“I’m okay,” I repeated, scrambling out of the car. I wiped at my forehead and cheeks, assuming I must’ve smacked my face and hadn’t realized it. “You have to help Otto. He’s at the house—” I stopped, my eyes widening in horror as I realized I’d sprayed the front of his vest and flannel with blood.
“Whoa,” he murmured as I stumbled. “You’re alright. Let me see your mouth.”
“Otto,” I repeated, pulling away. “You need to help Otto.”
“He’s got all the help he needs, sweetheart,” the man replied. “Trust me on that. Now I need to know why you’re bleeding.”
I stared over his shoulder at our driveway as I opened my mouth wide so he could look inside.
“Damn,” he said, pulling a black bandana out of his pocket. “You cut the hell outta your tongue and lip. Here, put some pressure on it.”
I nodded and pressed the bandana against my mouth as I pushed past him.
He stayed close to my side as we crossed the road and held me back until he was sure that it was safe for me to go closer.
When the house came into sight, my breath caught in my throat.
You could see the flames coming through the living room window.
“Shit,” the man muttered as we got closer.
A few of the men were dealing with the guys who’d attacked us, but the rest of them were running in and out of the house. Otto turned away from his uncle Will as I reached them, and cursed.
“What the hell are you doin’ here?” he asked gruffly. “Fuck, you’re bleedin’!”
“I bit my tongue,” I replied, hysterical laughter bubbling out of my mouth. “I wrecked your car.” My voice broke on the last word.
“And we’re glad you did,” Will said dryly. “Rather than plow into us like a bowling ball.”
“Shit, Esther,” Otto murmured, pulling me into his arms. “Is that it? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I sniffled. “I wasn’t going that fast.”
“You sure as shit were,” the man who’d helped me argued.
“You stopped for her?” Otto asked.
“Of course.”
“Thanks, Hulk.”
“No way his parents named him that,” I whispered to myself, making the men chuckle.
“It’s Cameron,” the man clarified. “Nice to meet you, Esther.”
I jerked as something crashed behind me and spun to face the house.
“We have to call the fire department,” I gasped, watching as Otto’s brother Micky used the garden hose to spray water through the window.
“Can’t,” Will said simply, glancing toward the attackers’ car.
Bile rose in my throat as I realized that a couple of the Aces were putting bodies into the trunk.
“We—I—” I stuttered to a stop.
“They were tryin’ to burn down our house while we were inside,” Otto reminded me, pulling me back against him. “Forget them.”
“I knew him,” I replied faintly, remembering the look on Japeth’s face as I’d raced past him. “He went to my church.”
“We know,” Will replied.
I didn’t turn around when someone drove the car off our property, just watched as Micky tried to fight what looked like a losing battle. It wasn’t until Rumi came stumbling around the side of the house that I realized he’d been fighting the fire from inside the house.
“Someone’s gonna have to switch with me,” he croaked, coughing. “I need a minute.”
Otto left me with his uncle as he ran around the house to take Rumi’s place.
A few minutes later, Heather arrived.
“Jesus Christ,” she snapped, jogging toward me. “What happened to your face?”
“Guessin’ you saw the Mustang in the ditch?” Will asked with a grunt.
“You crashed the Mustang?”
“Yeah.” I couldn’t even pretend like I cared.
Not when two men had come to hurt us and my husband of a week had killed them and now our house was burning down.
After all that I’d been through in the last four months, I would’ve thought that I’d be ready for anything, but the sad reality was that I felt like I was drowning.
“How did you get here when your rig’s—” Will pointed to where Heather’s SUV had been moved into the grass.
“Titus drove me,” Heather replied.
That’s when I saw Otto’s little brother, hanging back from the group, absolutely devastated.
“Hey Titus,” I called. I wanted to smile at him, but I was pretty sure that it came out like more of a grimace. He walked toward me, his steps dragging through the gravel.
“This is my fault, isn’t it?” he rasped, close to tears. “I fucked up.”
“You didn’t throw a bomb through the window,” I pointed out reasonably as I grabbed his hand.
“I brought Noel here,” he replied, watching as smoke billowed out the front window.
“They could’ve found us a different way,” I argued, squeezing his hand.
“I don’t think so.” There was something in his voice that made my insides clench as if expecting a blow.
“Why?”
Titus looked at the ground like he couldn’t meet my eyes. “Noel didn’t come to school today,” he whispered.
“Fuck,” Will barked, making Titus and I jerk in surprise. “We gotta go!”
“No.” I looked around for Heather but she was already moving toward us.
“Fire’s almost out!” Micky yelled back. “Ten more minutes!”
“Can’t wait,” Will yelled back, jogging toward him. “Meet us back at the club. Everyone, understand? Full lockdown.”
The men who’d been moving around the house, running here and there helping where they could suddenly headed for their motorcycles.
“Mom,” Micky yelled.
“I’m calling Emilia now!” she yelled back, pulling out her phone as she reached us.
“I’ll have Nova pick Myla up when she goes to get Bird,” Rumi said from where he was sitting in the grass.
“What’s a lockdown?” I asked Titus quietly.
“Everyone goes to the club,” he explained. “Even the families.”
“But why?”
“To keep us safe.”
The motorcycles fired up, one by one, and within a few minutes, the only people left at the house were Otto’s mom and brothers.
“It’s out,” Otto rasped, shaking his head as he came out the front door. “Thank Christ.”
I dropped Titus’s hand and headed toward him, but he stopped me as I got to the edge of the porch steps.
“It’s a fuckin’ mess in there, sugar,” he warned. “Don’t want you walkin’ around, just in case.”
“Good chance you’ll end up in the basement,” Micky huffed.
“Don’t worry,” Otto said as he met me in the gravel. “We can fix it.”
“Bishop can fix it,” Rumi called tiredly. “But, same shit, really.”
I couldn’t even cry. There was still smoke everywhere, and it stunk, and I had no idea when we’d be able to live in our house again, but I couldn’t focus on any of it. I leaned against Otto and let him support my weight.
“How’s your mouth?” he asked as we moved toward his family.
“It’s fine.”
“You’ve got a hell of a fat lip.”
“Lockdown starts now,” his mom announced when we reached them. “Everyone’s heading straight for the club.”
“You got any idea what’s goin’ on?” Otto asked.
“No clue,” she replied dryly. “Could have something to do with your house nearly burning down?”
“You got a hold of Emilia?” Micky asked.
“She was grabbing their bags and headed over,” Heather confirmed. “She’ll probably beat us there.”
“Let’s go,” Rumi said, pushing himself up with a groan. “Nova’s on her way as soon as she grabs Myla and Bird.”
Titus was quiet as he strode back toward his car and left. It was as if he was trying his hardest to stay out of Otto’s eyeline.
“I’m gonna grab the bike outta the garage,” Otto told me, tossing his mom her keys. “You ride with Mom, and we’ll follow you guys over.”
“What about the Mustang?” I asked apologetically.
“I’m guessin’ Uncle Will already called a prospect to bring the tow truck over and get it. Don’t worry about it.”
He helped me into the passenger seat, kissed me, and closed the door between us.
“Jesus, you two can’t catch a break, can you?” Heather asked sympathetically as she reversed onto the driveway.
“I’m really tired,” I replied, watching in the side mirror as Otto came out of the garage on his motorcycle.
Heather chuckled. “I bet. I’m tired and I’m not even pregnant. How’s my grandchild doing?”
“Fine, I think,” I murmured as we left the house behind. I reached down and put my hand on my belly. I couldn’t feel the baby moving yet, but nothing felt wrong. I winced as we drove past the wrecked Mustang. “It’s probably good I wasn’t wearing a seat belt.”
“Good grief,” Heather snapped, looking at the car. “You weren’t wearing a seat belt when you did that?”
“I was distracted,” I mumbled with a sigh. “I braced both feet on the floorboard and my arms were locked because I was so scared. My belly never even touched the steering wheel.”
“Well, thank God for small mercies,” she replied, reaching out to pat my hand.
The club was a hive of activity when we got there.
We had to wait in line at the gate as each car was checked and let through.
By the time we pulled up to the clubhouse, there was very little parking and there were people everywhere.
Moms were unloading cars and directing kids carrying sleeping bags and backpacks, men were closing the big garage bays and directing traffic, a couple of older ladies were helping where they could, holding babies and ushering little ones through the front door, and behind us more vehicles were finding places to park.