35. Evie
35
EVIE
Rick’s words from last night echo in my mind. Whatever’s coming, we face it together.
He returned late in the night, sore all over, and begged me not to ask any questions. Yet, he held me as if he could physically shield me from danger, not knowing he was promising protection from monsters he couldn’t imagine.
Morning sickness hits as I get the girls ready for school. Another secret weighing heavy—this baby is growing while threats circle closer.
“Mama?” Daisy watches me rinse my mouth. “There were men outside again last night.”
My heart stops. “What men, baby?”
“In suits. Like before.” She helps Violet with her sweater. “But Uncle Clay’s bike was there too.”
Of course. The brothers have people watching our house, which should make me feel safer. Instead, it reminds me of other surveillance—other men who used to watch our family under Luca’s orders.
I’m double-checking the window locks when Rose’s car pulls into the driveway. Relief battles with dread as I meet her at the door. She’s supposed to help me relax, but today something’s off. Her usual calm is absent, and her movements are too sharp.
“Girls, finish your breakfast,” I say, intercepting her before she knocks.
Rose doesn’t have her usual quip about my obsessive checking of locks. She steps inside without preamble, her expression grim. “We need to talk.”
“What’s going on?” I ask.
She glances toward the kitchen, her voice dropping further. “Somewhere private.”
The unease bubbling in my stomach churns harder. I nod toward the living room, far enough from the girls that they won’t overhear.
As soon as we’re alone, Rose turns to me, her tone clipped. “You need to pack. Essentials only—clothes, documents, enough to last a few days. We’re moving.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. “What? No. We’re not running again.”
“You don’t have a choice.” She checks her phone compulsively, her jaw tight. “Death’s Head isn’t just sniffing around anymore. They’re working with him.”
Him. She doesn’t need to say Luca’s name. The ice forming in my gut is enough.
“You don’t know that.” But even as the words leave my mouth, they feel hollow. Of course she knows. Rose always knows.
“Don’t be stupid.” She herds the girls toward her car despite my protest. “You think Death’s Head showing up is a coincidence? They’re working with him. He’s found you.”
“The brothers will protect us.”
“And Luca will get everyone killed.” She checks her watch compulsively. “They’ll have a grave if we don’t act now,” she snaps, her calm facade slipping. “You know what’s at stake. Look, I didn’t want to tell you, but Clay sent a text on my way here. He said something happened at The Den this morning.”
The room tilts. “What? The brothers—I haven’t heard anything from them.”
“I don’t have the full details yet. Draven hasn’t been picking up his calls, so I’m trying to be calm, Evie. It’s getting too dangerous out here. You have to?—”
Her phone buzzes, cutting her off. She swipes the screen and answers. “Clay,” she says sharply. “I’m with Evie. Please talk.”
Clay’s voice fills the room, rough and tense. “Draven was taken.”
My legs feel like they might give out. “Taken? By who?”
“We don’t know who,” Clay continues. “It happened this morning at The Den. Sarah saw it.”
Rose’s face hardens as she speaks. “What do you mean, taken? What exactly did Sarah see?”
“She was in the office when it happened,” Clay says. “Draven was behind the bar, doing inventory. Three SUVs pulled up—black, tinted windows. Four men came in while the rest stayed with the vehicles.”
I grab the back of the couch to steady myself, my legs threatening to give out.
“They grabbed him before he could call for help,” Clay continues. “She said one of them mentioned sending a message, but that’s it. She didn’t recognize any of them.”
Rose’s jaw tightens. “And you’re sure it wasn’t Death’s Head?”
There’s a pause on the line. Probably Clay thinking about how Rose knows about MC business.
“Draven told me about them,” she lies, clearing his doubt before he asks.
“Okay,” Clay continues. “There was one guy in a leather cut,” he admits. “But the others—suits. Organized.”
The word suits send a chill through me. My breathing quickens as my mind spirals.
“Where did they take him?” Rose asks sharply.
“No idea. They were gone before anyone could react.” Clay exhales heavily. “We’re looking into it. He’s going to return. Okay?”
She doesn’t answer right away. Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see hesitation—something rare and unnerving. “Okay.”
He ends the call and Rose turns to me, her expression grim. “Evie, listen to me. You need to stay calm.”
Her words feel like a slap. My hands tremble as I glance toward the kitchen, where Violet’s laughter rings out. “This is my fault,” I whisper, the truth clawing its way up my throat. “I brought this here. If something happens to Draven, or the brothers, or?—”
“Stop.” Rose grips my shoulders, forcing me to meet her gaze. “This isn’t your fault.”
“Yes, it is,” I cry, my voice breaking. “If I hadn’t—if I’d never?—”
“Evie, listen to me.” Her voice softens, the sharp edges smoothing out. “You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t choose this. And you are not to blame for the decisions of men like Luca or Death’s Head.”
My hands shake as I wrap my arms around myself. “But…what if they’re coming for the girls next?”
Her expression softens, and she places a hand on my arm. “They’re not getting to the girls. I won’t let that happen. But right now, we need to act. Pack what you can. I’ll handle the rest.”
Despite her words, I still make my decision to stay. I refuse to run again from Luca. I refuse it. I’ll fight till my last drop of blood.
The call has left a suffocating silence in its wake. My hands tremble as I clutch the back of the couch, my mind spiraling with worst-case scenarios. Draven’s gone. Taken. And no matter what Rose says, I have a feeling that it’s all my fault.
Rose moves to the kitchen, her voice calm and steady as she speaks to the girls. “Finish your breakfast, okay? We’ve got a busy day ahead.”
As soon as they’re distracted, I pull Rose aside. “I’m not sending them out there,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “Not after what Clay said.”
“You’re right,” she agrees without hesitation. “Keep them here. It’s safer.”
“But what do I tell them?” My voice cracks, the weight of everything pressing down on me. “I can’t keep lying to them, Rose. They’ll start to notice?—”
“They don’t need to know everything,” she interrupts, her tone firm but not unkind. “Just tell them it’s a special day at home. You’ve been through worse, Evie. You can handle this.”
Before I can respond, the low rumble of motorcycles echoes down the street. My stomach flips as I move to the window, catching sight of Kip, Clay, and Chase pulling into the driveway. Rose joins me, her jaw tightening.
“They’re here,” she mutters.
The knock at the door comes a moment later. I open it to find the three of them standing on the porch, their faces grim. Kip’s eyes scan the house while Clay gives me a reassuring nod. Chase looks at me with concern.
I step aside, letting them in. The girls peek around the corner, their curiosity piqued by the unexpected visitors.
“Hi, Uncle Chase!” Violet chirps, grinning.
Chase kneels to her level, managing a small smile despite the tension in the room. “Hey, squirt. How’s my favorite troublemaker?”
She giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck for a quick hug. Daisy stays close to the kitchen table, watching everything with wide eyes.
Rose speaks up, drawing their attention. “So, what’s the lead?”
Clay crosses his arms, his expression serious. “One of our guys spotted the SUVs heading toward an old warehouse outside of town. It’s been used for sketchy deals before. Figured it’s worth checking out.”
“Do you think he’s there?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s our best lead,” Kip says. “We’re heading out to see what we can find.”
“I’m coming with you,” Rose says immediately.
The brothers exchange a look. Chase raises an eyebrow. “No, you’re not.”
“It’s not safe for—” Kip starts, but Rose cuts him off.
“For a woman?” Her eyes flash dangerously. “You think I can’t handle myself?”
“That’s not what we’re saying,” Clay says, holding up a hand. “But this could get messy.”
“I’ve handled messy,” Rose snaps, her voice sharp and unyielding. “I was in the army. I know how to keep my head in a fight.”
I turn to her, my mind stuttering over what I just heard. The army? We never rehearsed this part. Where is this coming from?
Chase frowns, crossing his arms. “You were in the army?”
“Yes,” Rose says without hesitation. “Two tours. I know what I’m doing.”
The room falls silent. I don’t speak. It’s best if I don’t ruin whatever front she’s putting on. Her focus remains on the brothers, her jaw tight. “You need someone with experience out there, and that’s me.”
Kip raises an eyebrow. “Experience? Anyone can say they’ve been in the army. How do we know you’re not just talking big?”
She pulls her phone from her pocket. “Fine,” she says, swiping through her gallery. “You want proof? Here.”
She holds the screen up for them to see. Chase leans in first, his eyes narrowing before widening slightly. Kip and Clay follow, their expressions shifting from skepticism to something closer to reluctant respect.
“What is it?” I ask, moving closer despite myself. When Rose doesn’t hand over the phone, I catch a glimpse of the image over her shoulder.
It’s a photo of Rose, younger but unmistakably her, in full military fatigues. She’s standing with a group of soldiers in what looks like a desert outpost, the sun blazing overhead. There’s a rifle slung across her chest and a hard edge to her expression I’ve never seen before.
My stomach twists. I’ve known Rose for years, trusted her with my life—and my daughters’ lives—but this? I’ve never seen this side of her. Never even suspected it.
“Where was this taken?” Chase asks, his voice quieter now.
“Kandahar,” Rose replies, her tone clipped. “First deployment. We were running joint ops with Afghan forces. I can give you names, dates, whatever you need. But we don’t have time for a history lesson right now. Draven’s out there, and you need all the help you can get, and I’ll be damned if I sit back and don’t help the man I love.”
Clay exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“Because it wasn’t relevant,” Rose says sharply. “Until now.”
“It’s relevant if you’re going to be in the field with us,” Kip mutters, but there’s less bite in his tone now.
Chase studies her for a long moment before speaking. “And you’re sure you’re up for this? This isn’t some training exercise or controlled op. If things go south?—”
“I know what happens if things go south,” Rose interrupts, her voice firm. “I’ve been there before. I’m not just some liability, Chase. I know how to fight, I know how to shoot, and I know how to keep my head under pressure.”
It’s Clay who speaks. “Fine,” he says reluctantly. “But you follow orders. No heroics, no going rogue. You stick with us.”
Rose nods. “Understood.”
I can’t stop staring at her. Who is this woman standing in front of me? The Rose I know is smart, resourceful, and fiercely protective—but this Rose? This hardened, battle-ready version of her? It’s like looking at a stranger.
Before I can say anything, Chase turns to me, his voice softening. “You stay here with the girls,” he says. “Lock the doors. Don’t answer for anyone you don’t know.”
I nod automatically, my throat too tight to speak. The three of them head for the door, Rose close behind. Just before they leave, she glances back at me, her expression unreadable.
The door closes, and the sound of their motorcycles fades into the distance. I sink onto the couch, my hands trembling. Upstairs, I hear the girls playing. Their laughter is a painful reminder of what’s at stake. Who is Rose, really?