Chapter 22
Lena
You don’t go through years of foster care and living on the streets without learning a thing or two about self-defense. I try to channel everything I know into surprising the first person to come through the door of my room.
When the door finally creaks open, hours after I woke, I’m ready and waiting.
I spring into action before the goon that Zeke has sent can react, kicking him hard in the balls.
He drops to the floor, clutching his crotch, and I rush past him before he can collect himself enough to grab me.
Unfortunately for me, Zeke knows me better than I thought, and two more men are waiting outside.
The one lunges forward to catch me, and I use his weight against him, kicking out at his legs to take advantage of his momentum and trip him.
He stumbles forward, and I punch him square in the nose with all my might.
My hand throbs, but I’m satisfied to see the blood that spurts out.
He yells out in pain, and I try to dart past him, but the other one grabs me from behind.
I struggle against his grip, but he holds firm.
He’s too strong and there’s no space for me to use any of the defense tactics I know.
The man chuckles as I continue to fight. “Zeke said you were feisty.” His tone is almost admiring, as if this is fun to him.
“I think she broke my fucking nose, Chuck,” the other man says.
I don’t recognize either of the men I attacked, though the one holding me is vaguely familiar. If asked to identify them in a line-up, I’d struggle, they all have the same look—shaved head, tattoos, smushed pit bull features, with arms the size of tree trunks.
“Maybe if you worked your legs at the gym instead of just your biceps, I wouldn’t have gotten the upper hand,” I spit.
Chuck lets out a bark of delighted laughter. “She’s got you there, Bulldog.”
The nickname is remarkably apt. Of the three, Bulldog truly does resemble his namesake.
Having finally got his breath back, the man I kneed in the balls appears, backhanding me so hard across the cheek that my neck snaps painfully to the side and I see stars. “Fucking bitch,” he snarls.
He raises his hand again to strike me, but Chuck stops him. “Enough. The boss said we weren’t to harm her, Butch.”
Butch glowers at me. “The fucking bitch kicked me in the balls.”
“That’s your own fault for letting a little girl get the better of you. Both of you should be ashamed of yourselves,” Chuck gloats, clearly pleased to have been the one to capture me without harm.
“Let me go and we’ll see who the little bitch is,” I growl. All I can think of is Mia. I’m a lioness protecting her cub, and I’ll take on all three men if it gets me closer to my baby.
Chuck laughs again. “I can see why Zeke likes you. Come on, your old man is waiting for you.”
“He’s not my old man,” I reply.
Chuck has unwittingly given me more information on what Zeke wants from me. It’s not just Mia he’s after. I wonder if Mary Beth knows that Zeke’s men seem to think I’m his woman. I can’t imagine she’ll be happy to share him with anyone. Not that I intend to be anything to that monster.
I reluctantly allow the men to lead me down the corridor of the decrepit house.
To my surprise, much of the building is in a state of disrepair.
Zeke must have recently renovated the room he’s holding me in.
Most of the other rooms we pass appear to be derelict or in the process of being refurbished.
The smell of fresh paint and mildew lingers in the air, a strange, nauseating mix.
We reach a room with crisp white double doors, and Bulldog raps his meaty fist against the wood.
“Enter,” Zeke calls out.
A shiver of fear runs down my spine. It’s the first time I’ve heard Zeke’s voice since that night. Suddenly, I don’t feel so brave anymore.
We enter a newly decorated office. Zeke is sitting behind a grand, mahogany desk.
I stifle a laugh as I realize that Zeke has modeled it on the office in the Godfather movie.
Does Zeke see himself as some big Mafia Don?
He’s a petty criminal and a rapist. Mocking him, if only in my head, bolsters my bravado.
I glower at him as his face, one that I once thought was handsome, but now I see only evil, breaks into a grin. “Lena, finally we’re reunited.”
I don’t respond. I’m still trying to figure out the best way to play this. Mia isn’t here, and I know that with Zeke, I’m better off playing nice than fighting.
“You can leave us,” Zeke says to his men, dismissing them.
“Are you sure? She managed to knee Butch in the balls and break Bulldog’s nose before I grabbed her,” Chuck says, making sure to take the credit while also warning Zeke.
Zeke looks at Bulldog and Butch, shaking his head in disappointment before turning his gaze to Chuck. “You think I can’t handle my woman?”
“Of course not… I just…” Chuck stammers, confused as to how he’s the one on the receiving end of Zeke’s wrath.
“I’ll be fine. Lena knows better than to try anything with me, especially not if she wants to see our daughter again.” Zeke looks at me when he says this; his message is clear. “You won’t do anything silly, will you, Lena?”
“No,” I reply through gritted teeth.
“There you have it,” Zeke says, gesturing with an open palm. “Now leave us. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
His eyes rake down my body, and I feel sick. I don’t think I could handle it if he touches me.
Yes, you can, I tell myself, you’ll do whatever it takes to keep Mia safe.
Zeke stands up from behind his desk. He has gained weight since I last saw him.
He doesn’t carry it well. It makes his face puffy, and he has a bit of a gut.
I wonder what I ever saw in him. Zeke walks over, similarly surveying how I’ve changed since he saw me last. I’ve gained weight too, but I think it suits me, my body is now that of a woman, not a girl.
Zeke tuts. “You’ve let yourself go, Lena,” he chastises. “Nothing that a diet and a bit of exercise won’t fix,” he says absentmindedly, almost to himself.
“Where’s Mia? Where is my daughter?” I ask, ignoring him.
“You mean our daughter,” Zeke replies, emphasizing the word ‘our’.
I contemplate telling him the truth, that Mia isn’t his, but I decide against it. I have a feeling that his belief that Mia is his is the only thing keeping us both safe right now.
I look around, as if she’ll miraculously appear if only I look hard enough. “Where is she?”
Zeke waves a dismissive hand. He’s bored with this conversation; it’s not going the way he wanted. “She’s safe.”
“I want to see her,” I insist.
Zeke rolls his eyes, as if this isn’t how he imagined the reunion would go, and I’m being difficult by asking to see my child.
Thankfully, he indulges me. “She’s fine, see?
” he says, pulling out his phone and showing me a live camera feed of Mia in a nursery, playing with a woman who I presume has been assigned the role of nanny.
I’m just glad it isn’t Mary Beth. “I wouldn’t hurt my child,” Zeke adds.
I nod, satisfied for the moment.
Zeke moves closer, stroking my hair back off my face. It takes every ounce of control I have not to flinch at his touch. I force myself to look into his eyes. “Lena,” he breaths, as if he can’t quite believe I’m here. What he says next chills me to the bone. “You’re home now. Safe with me.”
“What do you want from me?” I ask, wanting to get right to the point. I don’t know what his game is.
He blinks in surprise. “I want you, Lena. You’re mine. We’re a family, you, me, and Mia. I understand why you ran away, but you should have come to me. I could have protected you from them.”
I’m so confused, I don’t even think before blurting out, “From who?”
He looks at me as if I might have brain damage.
“From the Soaring Eagles, of course. After they kidnapped you, I came after you, tried to rescue you. Then I found out that you had escaped. But instead of coming home, you went away. It took me three years to find you, to rescue you, and bring you home where you belong. You can imagine my surprise when I not only find you, but I realize that we have a daughter. I have to say, I’m not happy that you hid her from me, that you didn’t come to me for protection, but I forgive you,” he says this graciously, as if in his mind I should be at his feet groveling for his forgiveness.
He opens his hands, his face earnest and humble, a pretty mask, as he admits, “I should have protected you better. As soon as I learned the Soaring Eagles had got you again, I did everything in my power to save you. You’re home now, you don’t need to fear them anymore.
” He pulls me into an embrace, pressing my face against his sweaty chest as he wraps his arms around me. I’m too stunned to react.
Does Zeke truly believe that the Soaring Eagles kidnapped me the night he raped me?
In his mind, we had sex, and I had agreed to be his old lady before the Soaring Eagles arrived and kidnapped me.
His kidnapping and shooting of Big Joe was a rescue mission in his eyes—the Soaring Eagles were the kidnappers.
It makes a kind of twisted sense when you think about it, but I’m still amazed how he could have got it so monumentally wrong.
He said it himself, if I had wanted to escape the Soaring Eagles and be with him, I could have gone back to him three years ago.
My mind is racing, wondering how I should react, what my next move should be to protect Mia and escape. I decide that playing along is our best—and our only—shot.
“You saved us,” I whisper into his chest, choking the words out.
Zeke kisses me, and I force myself to tolerate it, his tongue forcing its way between my gritted teeth, his mouth wide, swallowing me.
He shoves his hand down my pants, and I have to stop him.
I can’t do that. “Wait. I’m not ready. I just need a little time,” I add, worried he will simply take what he wants. I know he’s capable of it.
Thankfully, I have the caring, protective Zeke today—the one I almost fell for—who treated me like a princess. “Of course,” he murmurs, kissing the top of my head. “I promise, I will make the Soaring Eagles pay for what they did to you. My men are out there now hunting them down.”
Ice runs through my veins at his oath. By trying to keep me and Mia safe, have I condemned my friends and the men I love?