Chapter Seven
Chloe
“You look like crap. Did you get any sleep at all?” Faith stood in front of me with her hands on her hips while a scowl darkened her face. “Well?”
I shrugged and dropped the three duffel bags and two backpacks that held mine and Gemma’s worldly belongings.
“I slept,” I replied. It wasn’t exactly a lie because I had slept, about two hours total between nightmares, panic attacks, and an endless list of items I needed to pack.
By the time the sun rose, our bags were packed and triple checked, and I went back to holding Gemma’s sleeping body.
Patience and sympathy flashed in my sister’s green eyes. “That’s not enough, Chloe. You’ll start hallucinating if you don’t get more sleep.”
I snorted. “Hallucinations can’t be worse than what I’m already experiencing.” I froze, wishing I could recall the words when I caught sight of the worry that etched Faith’s face.
“Nightmares, still?”
I nodded. “I assume they’re just part of my life now.”
“Maybe some mountain air will help. I hear it’s really peaceful there.
” She gripped one hand with hers and shoved an envelope into my free hand.
“This is just in case you need anything.” She wrapped me in her arms with a grunt.
“I’m sorry this shit happened to you, Chloe.
You didn’t deserve it, and I hope you know that. Take this time to heal.”
I blinked, allowing one lone tear to slip down before I gathered my emotions and stuffed them down so deep, they wouldn’t be found until my autopsy, which I hoped would be decades from now. “Thank you, Faith. I’m sorry for this mess.”
“Don’t be. I’m just so glad you’re here with me.” She gave me another squeeze and pulled back. “Let’s pack this stuff before the guys squish everything the wrong way.”
I managed a half-laugh. “Is there a right way to squish everything?”
“Yes, and they’ll do it all wrong.” She smiled and lifted the back door of the SUV with a smile.
Before I could say anything, I felt the burden being lifted, literally, from my shoulders. I gasped and nearly jumped out of my skin at the contact, spinning and ready to protect myself.
From Will. “Just trying to help with the bags.” There was mischief in his eyes that I didn’t appreciate.
“I got it,” I insisted and yanked my body, and the bags, backwards.
Will’s blue eyes glared at me as he gave the bag another yank until he held them all. “I got it.”
Yeah, this was going to be a long damn day.
“I’ll do it,” Faith insisted, taking one bag at a time from him to place it beside the grocery bags already stored back there.
Will grumbled and walked away, making Faith laugh.
“All done,” she declared minutes later. “Now where is my little munchkin? I gotta say good-bye.”
“I’m here, Auntie Faith.” Gemma’s sweet voice sounded, her favorite doll nestled in the crook of her arm as Faith picked her up. “You’re not coming?”
“Not right now, but soon I will and then we’ll get to see each other so much you’ll be sick of me.” Faith hugged her close and kissed her cheek. “Be good, yeah?”
“I will. I promise.”
Faith set my little girl down and turned to me, pulling me into another hug. “I’m not ready to let you go again.”
I wasn’t ready either but saying so would only make me cry. “This isn’t necessary Faith. I could just leave the state.” It would hurt like hell, but it was the best option. “It’s better than risking more lives.” Some days I thought I should’ve just died with Marcus and left Gemma with Faith.
“You’ll be fine Chloe.” T-Bone laid a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I promise.”
He couldn’t promise that, but I appreciated the effort. “Thanks. I won’t be any trouble.” I turned away because I didn’t want to see pity in his eyes. “Okay Gem, let’s get in the… car.” It was unnecessary because Will had already helped her into the booster seat and fastened her in.
“All good? Check the belt,” he instructed, his tone gruff but gentle.
Gemma tugged on the belt the same way he had, giggling as she did. “All good.”
“Don’t take it off while the car is moving. Got it?”
She gave an exaggerated nod. “Got it. Thank you, Mr. Will.”
He knelt down so he and Gemma were eye to eye. “Have we met?”
Chloe giggled again at his formal tone, shaking her head with far too much enthusiasm for the early hour. “No. Miss Ash talked about you lots. She said having a big brother was a blessing and a curse.”
His lips tugged into a reluctant grin. “Same goes for having a kid sister.” His smile was wistful yet sweet. “You ready to go?”
The question was aimed at me, and I blinked, looking up at those hard, angry blue eyes. His lips were pulled into a tight line that left no question that he wasn’t happy about this trip. He didn’t want to do this, and he shouldn’t have to. It was cruel and unfair.
“Well?”
I nodded and slid into the passenger seat, fastening my seatbelt and keeping my gaze averted from the left side of the car. “I’m sorry, Will. I’m sorry about everything.”
He said nothing and I didn’t expect him to.
***
He said nothing and neither did I, not for a long time. I watched Steel City rush past into Las Vegas and then the interstate before the road shifted into a country highway with nothing but desert for miles and miles. The car was dead silent, and I was content to let it stay that way.
My little girl, on the other hand, had other ideas. “Mr. Will,” she began in a sing-song voice.
“Pike,” he interrupted. “Call me Pike.”
She frowned, thought about it, and then nodded. “Mr. Pike, is it easy to ride your bike?”
His lips twitched before he nodded. “It’s a lot to learn at first because it’s so different from a car but yeah, it’s easy. You want to learn?”
Gemma shrugged. “I dunno, it’s really loud.”
He barked out a laugh, and it was the first time I heard him laugh that wasn’t bitter or sarcastic. “It is really loud but that’s part of the fun.”
“You have weird fun,” she added with a giggle. “I like the drawing on your arm.”
Drawing. She called his tattoos drawings. It took everything I had to remain silent because I didn’t want to give him any reason to get angry with me.
“Tattoos,” he corrected her gently. “They are drawings, but drawings are on paper, tattoos are on skin.”
“Tattoos.” Gemma tested the word out on her tongue a few more times. “I like them.”
“Thanks. And yeah, they do hurt a little, depends on where you get them.”
“They hurt? But I draw all the time and so did Miss Ash and her drawings never hurt.” Gemma gasped. “Sorry, Mommy said sometimes talking about her can make people sad and I don’t want to make you sad, Mr. Pike. I like you.”
She did. In fact she seemed to like all of the Steel Demons.
She’d easily taken a shine to T-Bone and from the moment we arrived at the clubhouse, she was open and friendly with all of them.
It was such a stark contrast to how she’d been around Marcus and Nate and Victor and the rest of them.
Maybe my daughter was just a better judge of character.
“I like you too, Gemma. You’re chatty as hell but it doesn’t bother me.”
She giggled again. “Are you sad?” She didn’t wait for his answer. “I’m sad about Miss Ash. She was my friend, and we used to draw together all the time.”
His grip tightened on the steering wheel and his jaw clenched hard for a long minute before he relaxed just enough that he looked relaxed. “Thank you, Gemma. I appreciate that. And yeah, I’m sad too.”
I turned away, unable to look at the play of emotions on his face for another minute.
My vision blurred with every passing cactus and tumbleweed but the constant chatter between my daughter and the man who hated me most continued.
She told him about her favorite color, purple, and he asked her what she liked to draw.
They chatted like old friends, leaving me feeling like the odd woman out.
Stop it. He’s protecting you and he likes Gemma, so he’ll keep her safe no matter what. That’s what I told myself as the desert faded away and tall trees shadowed the road as it moved up and turned into mountains.
Eventually Gemma talked herself to sleep, plunging the inside of the car into another round of oppressive silence.
That was all right, I was used to making myself small, nearly invisible to avoid pissing off a man.
That was my plan to survive the time at the safe house.
Stay out of his way. Stay quiet. Stay alive.
The road grew more isolated as the miles wore on and eventually, we came to a stop in front of a mid-sized log cabin with two floors, an expansive deck and behind it on either side water that twinkled under the midday sun.
“Wow.” It was some safe house, and it was more than big enough for me and Will to coexist semi-peacefully.
I hoped.