Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lola
T he stupid nursery rhyme that had been stuck in my head all morning came to a screeching halt when Hannibal’s phone rang.
After folding the last of the tiny onesies and adding them to the pile of others, I’d answered the phone without looking to see who it was.
“Hello?”
“Lola, put Hannibal on the phone now.”
“He’s in the shower,” I tell him quietly.
“I don’t give fuck. Your ex-fuck piece just attacked my old lady. You get Hannibal on the phone right now, or I’ll hold you accountable for whatever happens to her,” he snarls.
Eyes stinging with unshed tears, I ran to the bathroom and shoved the door open— hitting the wall with a bang.
Hannibal shut the water off and yanked the curtain back.
“What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”
I shook my head and handed him the phone.
“It’s Havoc,” I managed to choke out before fleeing the bathroom.
“What the fuck did you say to my old lady?” he snapped down the phone as I closed the door.
Moments later, Hannibal was out of the bathroom and heading for the door.
“I’ve gotta go. Nevaeh’s been taken.” He says before I can think of asking him anything else.
I swipe the tears from my eyes and take a deep breath, realizing my tears are more from shock than anything else.
Driller has Nevaeh.
I press my hand to my chest, knowing all too well what the man is capable of.
I stare down at the pile of onesies and feel vomit rush up the back of my throat.
I hurry to the bathroom and drop to my knees just in time to throw up.
A naive part of me had hoped Driller would've run far, far away. He’s not as dumb as he makes out. He knows that staying means a death sentence for him. If his beef had been with anyone other than his brother, he would've run.
But his hatred for Havoc runs far deeper than his sense of self-preservation.
And to go after Nevaeh?
He truly does have a death wish.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and get to my feet, staring at my too-pale face in the mirror as a dozen questions swirl in my head.
I brush my teeth and try to guess Driller’s next move, but the man is too unpredictable for me to understand.
Where would he take her?
I pause. No, he wouldn’t be that stupid.
Would he? I turn toward the window and look up at the house on the hill.
Khan’s place has been empty while Hannibal’s guys finish work on it.
And where was the last place the Raven Souls would look for Driller?
Right in the heart of the enemy camp.
That’s what Ravens are to him now: enemies.
He’ll blame Havoc for that, too.
Shit. I’m just being paranoid.
There's no way he’s gonna be able to sneak in here, unseen, with Nevaeh in tow. Especially in broad daylight. Still, I can’t shake that feeling of something being off.
“Fuck it.” I hurry into the bedroom, tug on a cardigan over my sundress, and slip on my Converse before I head down the hallway to Millie’s room.
I tap on the door, but when I don’t get an answer, I ease the door open and poke my head inside. Millie's lying on her belly on the bed with her headphones on and a book in her hand.
I tap her gently on the shoulder.
She jumps, yanking her headphones off before turning to look at me.
“Holy crap, you scared me.”
“Sorry, I knocked.”
She tilts her head, looking so much like her father it makes my heart clench for all the years he missed, thinking she’d be better off without him.
“You okay?”
I open my mouth to give her an excuse.
In the end, I decide she deserves to hear the truth.
“Your dad has gone to help someone from the mother chapter. One of their old ladies has been taken and they need his help.”
She sits upright, looking worried.
“He’ll be safe, though, right?”
Shit.
Way to go, Lola. She just lost one parent, let’s make her worry about losing another.
“Trust me when I say I’m not worried about Hannibal. He’s always the scariest person in the room. Nobody will mess with him.”
She relaxes, a small nervous smile on her face.
“I’d just feel better if we went to the clubhouse for a little while, just while your dad’s gone. It will give him peace of mind if he doesn’t have to worry about us.”
She bites her lip but nods.
“Okay, I’ll just shove a few things in a bag and meet you downstairs.”
I blow out a relieved breath.
“Thanks, Millie.”
She offers me another hesitant smile before climbing off her bed and grabbing her bag.
I leave her to it and head down to the kitchen, leaving a note for Hannibal to explain where we are.
I grab a couple of bottles of water from the fridge, along with a few cereal bars, and add them to my bag just as Millie comes jogging down the stairs.
She’s wearing ripped black jeans, a pair of Vans, and a huge black sweatshirt that swallows her slim frame.
I don’t work here is written across the chest in purple script.
I chuckle and nod to the door.
She slings her bag over her shoulder and heads outside, waiting for me as I lock up behind us.
“So, they won’t mind us coming over?”
I shrug.
“They won’t mind you coming over. People are curious about you.”
She looks at me.
“I don’t have to make small talk, do I?”
“Nope. You can sit in the corner and read your book or watch a movie in the media room. Hell, you can go raid the kitchen if you want. You’re the club princess. Nobody is going to tell you no.”
She doesn’t say anything as we keep walking, but I can practically hear the cogs turning in her brain.
“Do you like it here?” she asks hesitantly.
“You don’t have to worry about offending me, Millie. If I don’t feel comfortable answering something, I won’t. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be yourself, okay? Well, unless you’re a raging kleptomaniac. Bikers don’t like it when you steal from them,” I joke with a wink.
“Please. Kleptos are so last season. Arson is what all the cool kids are doing,” she jokes back, making me laugh.
“Oh, good. Remind me to buy you some matches. I wouldn’t want you to feel left out.”
She giggles, drawing the attention of Smokey, who comes trotting over with his tail wagging a mile a minute.
Millie freezes when she spots him, but he pays her no attention in his excitement to get to me.
He bumps into my legs, making me wobble.
“Ugh, you big lump,” I complain as I reach down and stroke his head.
“Millie, this is Smokey. His brother Bandit is around here somewhere. They’re the guard dogs, but they’re also my friends. Just don’t tell anyone,” I whisper to her conspiratory.
She reaches out slowly to pet him.
“We couldn’t have a dog at home because Mom was allergic.” She runs her fingers over his fur before she looks up at me with sad eyes.
“I guess I can now, huh?”
“Maybe you can just fuss on Bandit and Smokey for a little while,” I tell her softly.
She nods absently, still stroking his fur until his ears cock up, and he turns his head.
Moments later, he’s off, running across the compound to investigate whatever noise he heard.
Tugging my cardigan around me, I nod toward the clubhouse.
“Let’s go. They usually have hot chocolate in the kitchen, and I have such a craving for some.”
“I could go for a hot chocolate,” she agrees as we trudge forward.
The door opens before we get to it, and a couple of club girls practically fall down the steps as they laugh uproariously at something.
Snoopy follows them out, licking his lips as they flash him the goods in their tiny skirts.
“This is going to sound really bad, but there are some things you might see here that you probably should avoid telling Miss Taylor about.”
She looks at me before surprising us both by laughing.
Snoopy looks over and frowns before walking toward us.
“What’s going on?”
“Hannibal got a call from Havoc. Something is going down with Nevaeh. He’s gone to help.”
He narrows his eyes at me as if he knows I’m not telling him everything.
“I don’t know what’s happening, but I know it involves Driller. I just thought we might be better off here.”
Understanding dawns on his face.
“I tell you what, I’ll let the guys know we’re getting company so we don’t scar Hannibal’s kid for life. And then I’ll see about rustling up some food. Are you guys hungry?”
Millie answers before I can.
“Always. Lola says you guys have hot chocolate, too?”
Snoopy looks at me, his face softening, though I don’t know why.
“I think she might be right. Give me a few minutes, and we can go find out.”
He turns and heads inside as Tracey and May start laughing again.
I look over and see them looking and pointing.
I narrow my eyes when they focus on Millie, whispering to each other like a pair of school kids.
“You have something you want to say, May?” I call out.
She snorts. “You’re talking to me? I thought you were too good for the likes of us.”
“Why would you think that? When have I ever given you that impression?”
“You come here, you don’t talk, you ignore us or walk away when we walk in. Your head is always stuck in a book, like you’d rather be anywhere but here. And now you’re Hannibal’s old lady. That makes you queen bee. But how can you rule the hive when you hate us all so much?”
“I don’t want to do this in front of Millie,” I tell her softly as Tracey tries to pull her back.
“How fucking typical,” she spits.
“It’s okay, Lola. I hear worse at school.” Millie steps closer to me, taking an almost protective stance.
Fuck. I tilt my head to the sky, seeking patience before blowing out a shaky breath.
In for a penny, in for a pound…
“I don’t hate any of you. Well, except for Razzle. She was vile.”
Tracey snorts but doesn’t say anything.
“I don’t speak because nobody wants to hear me. I leave the room when people enter to avoid becoming the target of their cruel words. I have my head in a book because if I’m reading, people tend to leave me alone,” I tell her honestly.
“Everyone here hates me, or they used to. I’m not really sure how everyone feels anymore because, like you said, I keep to myself. I promise you, though, it’s not because of you. I don’t even know you.”
She looks confused for a minute, her gaze turning when Millie speaks.
“People hate you?”
My shoulders sag as I turn to look at her.
“They’re angry at me for something I did. They don’t understand that I had no choice.”
She looks confused and pissed on my behalf.
“They’re mean to you?”
“Not, really. Not anymore,” I correct.
“Your dad would kick their asses.”
“Damn fucking straight,” she curses.
“Language,” I correct her.
She huffs but doesn’t apologize, folding her arms over her chest. “Lord, help me with these Shaw genes.”
“My mom’s dead.”
We all freeze at Millie’s words, the pain emanating from them even has May stepping forward.
“My dad didn’t want me, and I know if it weren’t for you, I’d be in some foster placement or group home right now.”
“Millie…” I reach for her, but she backs away.
“No, it’s true. You’re the only person that cares about me. Me, a stupid nobody kid whose own dad doesn’t want her. Did you know my mom didn’t even try to fight? She just gave up and left me. You’re it, Lola. You’re the only one who cares if I live or die, and they’re mean to you?”
I rush toward her and yank her into my arms as she sobs.
I had no idea she was holding all this inside her.
I should have known better.
She’s just a kid who’s had her whole life torn apart.
“I care.”
Millie freezes at the sound of May’s voice.
She lifts her head and looks at her over my shoulder.
I turn to look and see both women crying.
“I care if you live or die.” She takes Tracey’s hand and they both walk over to us.
“We know what it’s like to be forgotten or left behind. I’m sorry we made that worse,” Tracey whispers.
I look at them and realize just how young they are.
Neither of them can be much older than twenty-one.
“I think we all know what it feels like,” I admit, my voice cracking as I turn back to Millie and use my thumbs to wipe away her tears.
“Sounds like we’re all just a bunch of misfits trying to find our place. You might feel alone in that, but you’re not.”
She takes a deep, shuddering breath before she nods.
“Okay.”
I look at Tracey and May.
“You want to join us for hot chocolate? I don’t know what food is in the kitchen, but I could cook.”
They look at each other for a moment before they smile.
“Yeah, hot chocolate sounds good,” May agrees.
Tracey walks up to Millie and squeezes her arm lightly.
“I’m in the mood for cookies. My nana taught me her recipe for the best cookies on the planet, but I never make them because I always end up making far too many. Trust me, this ass does not need any more cookies sticking to it,” she jokes, making Millie giggle.
Tracey slips her arm through Millie’s and tugs her away from me, leaving me standing with May.
She’s quiet for a minute, so I wait for her, not sure what I’m supposed to say.
“Driller was always rough.”
I rear back as if she slapped me, the unexpectedness of that comment throwing me for a loop.
“Lot of girls tried to avoid him if they could, ‘cept for Razzle, but she was into that fucked-up shit.”
I wrap my arms around myself, waiting for the rest.
“One time, I was the only one around, and he was in a mood. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say he put me out of commission for a week.”
I swallow down bile, my breathing turning ragged as I fight off memories that are better forgotten.
“He said something, though, as he was leaving. I thought he was just being weird at the time, but it stuck with me.”
I don’t want to know. Nothing good can come from this, and yet I find myself asking anyway. “What did he say?
”
“He said I was a good fuck, but nobody broke for him the way you did.”
Tears sting my eyes as I look away, feeling shame creep over me.
I feel a hand on my arm.
I turn back and find her watching me, a certain knowing in her eyes that unites us in a way too many women are familiar with.
“You weren’t hiding from us. You were hiding from him.”
“I was hiding from myself. From what he turned me into. And sometimes, I was hiding from everyone else. They all believed the lie. And eventually, it was easier just to let them.”
Before she can say anything, Snoopy sticks his head out the door and takes us all in, a frown appearing on his face.
“You can come in now. What’s going on?”
“We’re going to bake cookies,” Tracey tells him, leading Millie inside.
She turns to look back at me just as May takes my hand.
“Yeah,” I whisper, swallowing around a lump in my throat.
“The four of us are going to bake cookies.”
Lips on my bare shoulder rouse me from sleep.
My eyes flutter open at the comforting smell of Hannibal’s shower gel and the faint hint of smoke.
“Hannibal?” I roll over and take in his damp hair and tired eyes as he leans over me and kisses me.
“Hey baby,” he murmurs against my lips.
“I missed you.” He pulls back and looks down at me, smoothing my hair from my face.
“I wasn’t expecting to find you here.”
“My nerves were frazzled. I just felt safer here, which is ironic.” I glance over when I remember I fell asleep in here with Millie.
“She’s in the kitchen, eating a stack of pancakes with Snoopy and Gunther.”
“Okay, good. I need to talk to you about her. But first, tell me what happened. Is Nevaeh okay? Did you catch Driller?”
“Driller attacked Probe before lying in wait for Nevaeh.”
“Oh god.”
“He did get her pinned down. But her father, of all people, beat the shit out of him with a rock.”
“I don’t understand.”
He blows out a breath, which turns into a chuckle.
“Driller got taken out by a preacher. It almost feels like higher powers were at work here,” he jokes.
I frown. “So he’s dead?”
“Not yet, but he’s in a coma. Cops have him guarded, so we can’t get to him. But if he wakes up, Havoc will eviscerate him for what he did, or tried to do, to Nevaeh.”
I swallow, ignoring the bitter voice in my head that thinks that must be nice.
“But she’s okay, right? Her dad stopped him in time.”
Hannibal pauses and looks at me in a way that suggests he sees far more than he lets on.
“She got away from Driller, yes. But then she was kidnapped by the man who abducted her twin sister Citi when they were ten.”
“Holy fuck!”
“There’s more. We get there to find the guy dead, thanks to Havoc losing his shit. But we also find Citi upstairs in one of the bedrooms, with a shackle around her ankle and a kid strapped to her chest. Her kid.”
I cover my mouth with my hands, the horror of what that woman must have been through making me feel sick.
“God… I don’t even know what to say to that. That’s—just…”
“Yeah, it was bad. I won’t give you all the details, but I think it’s safe to say she’s going to need a lot of help adjusting.”
I shake my head, not sure how you even begin to adjust after that.
But I do know one thing—that kid of hers will be her saving grace.
It’s easy to give up when you only have to be strong for yourself.
But when you have to be strong for someone else, you have no choice but to get up and carry on.
“What about Probe? Is he okay?”
“He was out of surgery and in recovery when I left. G’s gonna keep me posted. I’ll ride back if anything changes.
“You mean if he dies, don’t you?
” I ask quietly, already feeling sorry for a man I barely know.
“If anyone can pull through this, it’s that stubborn bastard.”
“I hope so. Driller’s hurt enough people as it is.”
He nods, dropping his head to skim his nose along mine.
“Now tell me what I missed. What happened with Millie?”
I sigh and give him a rundown of what happened yesterday.
“I’ll talk to her. I had somewhat of an epiphany of my own when I was in that fucking house of horrors.”
“Oh yeah? Gonna share with your old lady?”
“She’s so fucking smart. She’s probably figured it out already.”
I grin.
“Tell me anyway.”
He rolls so he’s beside me and pulls me into his arms. I rest my head on his chest as I draw circles across his bare stomach.
“It was the kid’s room.”
My fingers still as I wait for him to continue.
“It was cold and bare, not a single ounce of life. It made me think about what could have happened to Millie if I’d said no—where she might’ve ended up, and with who.”
“You wanted her, Hannibal. You were just too scared to admit it. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have worried.”
He doesn’t say anything.
“Did you push Melissa to have an abortion?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He’s silent once more, and then it finally sinks in.
“Fuck.”
“You always wanted her, Hannibal.”
“Fuck me. I’m an idiot.”
“You are,” I say.
“But you’re my idiot.”
His fingers slip under my arms and he starts tickling me.
“Stop, or I’ll pee,” I squeal.
He laughs, but thankfully, he stops.
“Thank you, doll.”
I lean over and press my lips to his chest. “You would’ve figured it out eventually. You’re smarter than you look.”
There’s a brief pause before he bursts out laughing and starts tickling me again—this time until I actually do pee a little. Asshole.