18. Taylor
Chapter eighteen
Taylor
“Babe, wake up.”
My eyes open to see Player standing next to the bed, leaning over me. He is fully dressed and ready to go.
“The club’s pulling out.”
I blink to clear my sleepiness. “Wait. Give me a minute.”
I throw the cover back, and he goes to the highboy, digging in the top drawer. He comes up with a couple cartridges for his 9mm, and is loading his gun while I’m scrambling into my clothes. Grabbing my purse, I dash into the bathroom, run a brush through my hair, and swipe on some mascara.
Player stands in the doorway. “You look beautiful. You don’t need all that, Tay.”
I roll my eyes. “I wish you’d given me more time to get dressed.” Nerves fill me; I don’t want him to go, but I know he has to leave with his club. There’s no changing his mind. That’s not in the cards.
“Sorry, I thought you needed sleep. Come on.” He leads me outside into the parking lot. It’s busy with activity—a dozen men packing their bikes and ol’ ladies kissing them goodbye. Some I know; others I’ve never seen before.
I notice Molly standing near a couple of prospects, and think it odd she’d be here so early. Perhaps she was in bed with one of the Kings, or maybe one of those prospects.
She locks eyes with me and waves. I lift my chin in response and turn to Player, who is stuffing a backpack into his saddlebag. He’s got another small duffel bag on the seat, and I watch him strap it across the back with some bungee cords.
When he’s finished, he faces me, his hands landing on my hips and pulling my body to his.
“One of the prospects is giving you a ride home.”
“Okay.”
“Gonna miss you, girl.” He bumps noses with mine.
“How far are you going before you stop for the night?”
“Don’t know.”
“Will you text me?”
“Absolutely. Every damn night.”
“When will you return? Do you know?”
“Gage wants to be back by the first.”
“That’s two weeks,” I whine.
He dips his head to claim my mouth, and we don’t talk anymore about the days we’ll spend apart. All I can think about is his arms around me and how this kiss has to last for a long time.
When we finally break apart, he presses his forehead to mine. “What are you going to do today?”
“Go home and check on Mom, then I’ll go help Kayla at the bar.”
“Promise me you won’t leave the bar alone at night.”
“We’ve never had a problem. I don’t think you need to worry.”
His eyes drill into mine. “Promise me, or I’ll put a prospect on you for protection.”
I know he’s serious. “All right, I promise.”
He cups my face and gives me another kiss. “Gonna miss you, Tay.”
“Not as much as I’ll miss you. Please be safe.”
He nods, and Gage’s whistle splits the air.
I turn to see Player’s father on his way to his bike, and the brothers immediately start to line up in formation.
“Gotta go, babe.” Player swings his leg over his seat, then reaches up and cups the back of my neck, pulling me in for one last kiss.
With a twist of his throttle, he rolls forward and takes his place in line. In a roar of thunder, they’re gone, leaving nothing but a trail of dust to settle back down on the drive.
Most of the ol’ ladies wander off to their cars. Molly walks over, shoving her hands in her hip pockets. “How’re you getting home?”
“One of the prospects is giving me a ride.”
“No need for that. I can take you,” she offers sweetly.
I shrug. “Okay. Sure.”
Climbing into her car, something makes me give her the bar’s address rather than my mother’s house. After all, I barely know this girl.
We chitchat about the weather, then she starts asking about my relationship with Player.
“How did you two meet?”
Watching the scenery fly by, I caution myself not to reveal too much. “We were high school sweethearts.” She doesn’t need to know we lived in the same neighborhood.
“Really? So, you’ve known him since before he got his patch, huh?”
“Yes.” I turn to her. “What about you? When did you start hanging around the club? I know you said you worked at the Crystal Palace. Have you been coming up to the clubhouse for long?”
She shrugs. “For about five years. I don’t remember you being around back then.”
“Player and I were over way before that.”
“I see. Why’d you break up?”
She’s getting personal, and it’s really none of her business, so I give her half-truths. “I left town to go to school.”
“Oh, really? What did you study?”
“French. I translate documents for a company.”
“Really? I sucked at French in school.”
“My father was French, so it was a second language in our home.”
“I see. So, are you home for good?”
“We’ll see.” I direct her to The Rusty Pelican, and she pulls into the lot. Getting out, I lean in the window. “Thanks for the ride, Molly.”
“Anytime. Maybe we can get a coffee sometime,” she offers, but there’s something in her smile that just doesn’t ring true.
“Sure,” I say to be polite. “Thanks again.” I turn and walk inside, then peer through the window and watch her drive off.
“Taylor, thank God,” Kayla calls from behind me, hurrying over. “I’ve been calling and calling.”
I pull my phone from my bag. “Sorry, it must have been on silent. What’s wrong?”
“Mom took a turn for the worse. The neighbor came over for coffee this morning and found her on the floor. She’d gotten dizzy and fell.”
“Oh my God. Is she okay?”
“Mrs. Olsen called 911, and the paramedics came and took Mom to the hospital. Pete just showed up to cover for me so I could meet them there. Come on.”
We head to her car and are in the ER within ten minutes.
Coming around the curtain divider in the ER bay, it hits me how weak my mother looks, but at least she’s conscious.
“I’m all right, girls. Don’t look so worried,” she says, patting my arm and smiling at Kayla.
“Are you in pain?” I ask.
“A bit,” she replies.
“Mom, you took a bad fall,” Kayla says, then looks at the nurse. “Is she all right?”
“The doctor wants to send her for a scan to make sure she didn’t break anything, especially her hip. She’s in some pain, and he may want to keep her overnight. There’s some swelling on her knee he’s also concerned about, especially with the medications she’s on.”
Kayla and I stay by her side, and the doctor eventually comes in to tell us they found a hairline fracture in her hip, and he’d like to keep her overnight to make sure the swelling in her knee goes down and isn’t a sign of something more serious.
After hours in the ER, they eventually move her to a room.
It’s late, and visiting hours are ending. The nurse gives her something to help her sleep, and soon she drifts off.
“Come on,” Kayla says, and I follow her into the hall.
“I hope she’s okay,” I whisper. “I’m exhausted.”
“Me, too.”
“Do we need to go close the bar?” I ask.
“No. Pete’s got it covered.”
“Good.”
“I saw someone drop you off earlier. Where’s your car?”
“Player picked me up at the house the other day. It’s still there.”
“I’ll drop you off then.”
“Thanks.”
When we walk to the parking lot and get into the car, I check my phone. There’s a text and a missed call from Player.
PLAYER: We’re stopped at a motel outside Indianapolis. Call if you get a chance. Miss you, babe.
I decide to call him back later when I’m alone.
Kayla drives me to Mom’s place and idles in the drive.
Opening my door, I look at her. “You want to come in?”
“No, thanks. I’m exhausted. I’ll call you in the morning, and we can go back up together.”
“All right. Goodnight.”
I walk to the door, and she pulls out.
As soon as I slide my key into the lock, I realize the door is already unlocked. The neighbor and paramedics probably didn’t think to lock up in all the commotion.
Entering, I throw the deadbolt and flip on a light in the foyer. I’m halfway across the great room when I realize a man sits at the dining table, and I freeze, a gasp of fear escaping my lips.
It only takes me a split second to realize it isn’t any man.
“Randall, what are you doing here?” I hiss. My dickhead ex-boyfriend has made it clear he doesn’t want to let me go. Apparently, he’s way more serious about that than I hoped.
“Did you think I didn’t know where your mother lived?” He takes a drag off his cigarette, the burning ember flaring.
“We’re over, Randall. I told you that.”
“We’re over when I say we’re over, Taylor. You think I put in two years of my life putting up with your shit just to let you fucking walk out on me? Think again.”
“This is my mother’s home. You can’t be here.”
“Yet here I am, and I’m hungry, so go into the kitchen and make me something to eat.”
“You need to leave. Now.”
He stands, and I instinctively retreat two steps. That only makes him smile. In a split second he’s on me, his hand in my hair, yanking my head back.
“Get in the damn kitchen. And make me something to eat.” He doesn’t raise his voice. It’s threatening enough in the cold, low tone he uses. His fist tightens. “Go ahead. Piss me off more than you already have. See what happens.”
“Okay. I’ll make you something. Let go of me.”
He shoves me toward the kitchen, and I stumble. My mind is racing. How did he find me? I was so careful never to let him know about Delaware. And now I wonder what else he knows.
“Where is your mother?”
“The hospital.”
“That were you’ve been?”
“Yes.” I pull a bowl and start cracking eggs, then put a pan on the burner and add butter.
“She sick or something? That why you came back here?”
I see a way to ease things with him. “She has cancer. She needs me.”
“Why didn’t you just fucking say that?”
“I… I was afraid you’d say no.”
He rests a hip against the counter and folds his arms while I make him scrambled eggs and toast.
I feel his eyes on me.
“You shouldn’t have pissed me off like that, Taylor. You should have come to me and told me the truth.”
I nod, not looking at him.
He glances around the place. “Guess we can stay awhile. Until the old broad is better.”
Dread fills me. My God, he plans to stay. “Here?” I whisper.
“Yeah. She’s got room.”
I’m sure he’s gone through the whole house already, and I feel violated having him here in my childhood home. God, I wish Player were here.
My eyes flare. Player. What if Player calls? If Randall finds out about him, he’ll go into a rage. There’s no telling what he’d do. God, why couldn’t Randall have just stayed in Virginia. Why can’t he just let me go?
Turning off the burner, I dish up his plate and set it on the kitchen table.
He takes a seat, and I pour him a glass of orange juice and bring a jar of strawberry jam to the table for his toast.
“Where’s the butter?” he grunts.
I move to get it, and he snags my wrist. “You got a lot to make up for, Taylor. So, you better start being real sweet to me.”
When I just stare at him, he arcs a brow.
“You could start with a smile and a fucking kiss. Show me how happy you are to see me.”
I give him what he wants. If I don’t, he’ll make me pay for it. Dipping to kiss him, I try to imagine I’m anywhere else.
My mind is racing, looking for a way out of this. Every scenario I come up with ends in disaster. I wouldn’t put it past him to burn this house down just to teach me a lesson.
I’ve got to get him out of this town, but how? Now that he knows about my mother, he’s decided we’ll stay.
Even if I do leave town with him, I’ll never be able to come home again. He knows exactly where to find me. I can’t bring the kind of hell Randall doles out down on my family. It would be selfish of me to risk it.
My only chance to get away from him the next time is to run some place where no one knows me—somewhere he’ll never think to look.
I envision a life of fake names and always looking over my shoulder.
Even if I did manage it, I’d be leaving my family behind, and he could very well use them to punish me.
Even if I wasn’t around, he’d feel the need to get his payback for any slight I cause him.
He finishes eating, then takes me into my childhood room. It’s the place I always felt safe and protected.
When Randall is through with me and rolls off me to fall asleep, I know I’ll never feel safe in this room again.
A vision of Player reaching into the top drawer of his dresser and pulling out a clip to load his weapon runs before my eyes. I frown. I wonder if he has any other weapons in his room at the clubhouse.
I bite my lip as a plan formulates. Perhaps I could tell the prospects I left something in his room the other night. Maybe they’d let me in. Maybe I could find a weapon.
Turning my head, I look at Randall and imagine a future with him. If I’m to escape, I have to be brave. But am I brave enough to put a gun to the back of his sleeping head and pull the trigger?
I turn and stare at the ceiling.
Yes, I think I am.
But what would I do with the body?
Tears form in my eyes. I’d end up in prison for sure.
That’s no way out.
And I’m not spending life in prison for this piece of shit.
There has to be a way.
I glance at the clock. It’s after 11:00 p.m. I need to sneak out of this room and text Player, but if Randall wakes up and catches me…
I don’t dare risk it.
Tomorrow.
I’ll try tomorrow.