Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Serenity
When I get downtown the next morning to say goodbye to Mr. Johnson, I find the street blocked off. The closest parking spot is two blocks away.
Darn it, I wanted to catch him before the store opens so I can explain.
Of course, I don’t plan on telling him the truth of why I’m leaving.
He’d only worry. I’m going to tell him it’s time for me to get out and explore the world.
He won’t argue with that. In fact, he’s been encouraging it for years.
My feet begin to slow when I round the corner. There are several emergency vehicles parked in the middle of the street with their lights on. I push through the crowd, praying with every fiber of my being they aren’t at the oddities shop.
Deb is talking with an officer when she spots me. “Oh, honey, don’t …”
I duck under the yellow tape and hurry into the store, finding Mr. Johnson sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood.
My hands fly to my mouth, desperately trying to hold in the scream that is clawing at my throat.
He’s … he’s …. dead.
Oh my god. No!
An officer pulls me aside, blocking my view of the body. “What happened?” I ask, gripping the sleeve of his jacket to keep myself upright.
He pushes me into a chair in the corner of the room, and instead of answering my question, he begins to ask his own.
When he’s satisfied with my answers, he tells me that someone broke in early this morning and stole money from the safe. They think Mr. Johnson might have caught the suspect in the act. He was beaten and left for dead.
“He didn’t suffer long, if at all,” the officer assures me. He pats my hand. “You don’t have to be afraid. We already have the suspect in custody.”
“You do?” I sniffle back tears.
He helps me to my feet and walks me toward the door. “We do. It’s just a shame, because it didn’t have to be this way.”
His big hand presses between my shoulder blades and he gives me a little shove, making me trip over the threshold. He reaches out and catches me around my bicep, squeezing it painfully.
Just remember, it didn’t have to be this way.
“Hopefully this is where it ends,” he says coldly.
He’s one of them, or at the very least he’s on their side.
As soon as he releases me, I melt into the crowd, letting the world slowly pull me back into obscurity. The noise, the pushing, the shoving, the thoughts spiraling through my mind. I cover my ears, struggling to catch my breath as I stumble to my car.
My hands are shaking as I make my way to the outskirts of town. When I get on the highway, I realize I’m being followed. Slowly, two bikes pull in front of me, leading the way. I glance in the rearview mirror, finding another two Scorpions behind me.
This confirms that it is my fault Mr. Johnson is dead. I never should have involved him in my life. I should have accepted the fact I’d never escape my family’s chaos.
The bikes escort me all the way to their clubhouse just outside of Greeley. This is the very definition of a bad situation.
As soon as I stop, I’m being escorted out of my car and into a room full of men. Scary men. How the hell did this happen? One minute I’m enjoying my quiet little life, and the next I’m thrust into a literal nightmare.
I listen as the president of the Bloody Scorpions, the man who paid me a visit yesterday, goes over my options for repayment of the loan my brother took out with them. Why would he borrow money from one percenters? Better question, what did he think would happen if he didn’t pay them back?
The first option he mentions sounds terrifying. They want me to infiltrate their rival club and find out when and where their next shipment of guns is going through.
I begin to shake my head.
“No? Don’t like that one,” he teases. He looks around his club before settling his cold eyes on me. “The other option is simple. Stay here and work for us until the debt is paid.”
My gaze sweeps the room. Their clubhouse is more than a little disgusting, but it’s better than the alternative. “Okay, I’ll stay and clean for you guys. How much did my brother owe you? How long will it take?”
He taps his fingers over his mouth, clearly amused. “Oh, a few years maybe.”
My eyes widen.
“But the only thing you’ll be cleaning is our dicks with your tongue.” He leans back in his chair and grabs his crotch roughly. “You ready to get started?”
I stand quickly, swallowing hard to keep my breakfast from coming up. “I’ll take the first option.”
His eyebrows jump in surprise. He wasn’t expecting me to pick number one, and why would he? The Bastards aren’t any less scary. Walking into their club is a suicide mission … if I’m lucky.
My gaze roams over the patch on his cut. “Listen, Savage. Just tell me where to go. I’ll be back when I have the information you asked for.” I sigh loudly, shrugging like it’s no big deal. But it is a big deal, and we both know it.
All the men in the room laugh.
He eyes me up and down, ignoring them. “If you run, I’ll find you.”
“I know.”
He taps his lighter on the table beside him. “Ask for a man named Chase Turner. You’ll find him over in Cheyenne.” He jots down an address on a piece of paper and then hands it to me.
“What else do I need to know?” I ask, yanking it from his fingers.
“Nothing.” He settles back in his chair. “If you get the info on the guns, you can consider us even.”
“Oh, we’ll never be even,” I argue, walking out of the room.
“It didn’t have to be this way!” he yells after me.
He’s right. It didn’t.