Chapter 22
Trigger – Eight Weeks Later
I lean against the archway between the living area and the kitchen as Cole plays video games and I watch as my wife, my beautiful, amazing wife, preps dinner for our son, not once looking my way, breaking my fucking heart.
Eight weeks, and nothing from her.
After Hazel’s outburst, the same Hazel who is still on grunt work and won’t come off it until my wife steps foot back inside that clubhouse, Ashley has closed off, and whatever progress we made, it's vanished.
She won’t talk to me unless it’s about Cole or the baby, she won’t let me touch her, and she’s even gone to the lengths of locking the bedroom door to try and keep me out, though that never works.
She’s not aware, but I have the spare key, and I hold her every night before waking up and leaving before her alarm goes off for work.
I sigh quietly, my eyes taking in her sexy as fuck figure, my dick twitching, wanting her tight heat again.
She stopped communicating with the brothers.
The shit Hazel spewed after Ash finally walked back into that common room caused her to stay away from all of us. I’m at a loss as to what to do. She’s still doing therapy, but refuses to do couples therapy, she refuses to try again.
She’s pulled away from me and I’m ready to handcuff her to the bed.
I push off the wall and walk over to her. Despite knowing it won’t be accepted, I come up behind her and gently wrap my arms around her waist, my right hand going to her thirty-week bump, our son instantly moving beneath my touch, and she tenses, her hands stopping what she’s doing.
“How’s he doing?” I whisper against her ear.
She’s tried to leave nine times in the past eight weeks, nine fucking times.
Each time the brothers have stopped her, pleading with her to stay, and each time she has listened, and that is only because Cole was brought into it, which only pushed her further away from the brothers, from me.
Hazel is lucky to still be breathing.
“Fine,” she mutters, and I sigh as I drop my lips to her shoulder.
“Pixie, please,” I choke quietly, not wanting our son to see yet another tense interaction between his parents, “I feel like I’m fucking dying here. For eight weeks, you have barely looked at me…”
She stops chopping and just when I think she’s going to talk to me, she instead moves out of my hold and murmurs, “I forgot an ingredient at the store,” and I swear to fuck I could fall to the floor.
“I can go…” I say, following her, but she shakes her head and mutters, “No, it’s fine, you have church,” as she walks out the door, and I stand frozen, feeling lost.
As soon as I hear her car pull away, I drop my head and shake it before looking at Cole to see his attention on the front door with worry, and I fucking hate this.
He shouldn’t have to worry about his parents at eleven and yet here we are all because of my fuck up.
“Come on, bud, you can play with Caleb while I’m in church, by the time we get home, Mama will have finished cooking dinner,” I murmur and he nods, not taking his eyes off the front door, and is weary.
I hate myself even more, and I’m pretty sure the only reason why I haven’t put my gun back inside my mouth is because they’re still under our roof.
“I want to go on the next few runs,” Tank demands before Anchor can open his mouth, and I look at him in shock.
We haven’t even been in church for five minutes, fuck, Doc has only just banged the gavel and asked Anchor to talk about the next run with the Devil’s this time.
We run drugs and ammo between the Untamed, the Devils, and the Huntsmen MCs, collecting them from the Cartel or sometimes even delivering some to the Cartel from the Untamed when they’re on a shortage from their suppliers.
The setup is fucking good and brings in a shit ton of money. However, deliveries can be sketchy if we get pulled over, especially since we usually have two vans while the other groups only have one, as we serve as the primary liaison between all the MCs we’re affiliated with and the deliverer.
“I thought you were helping the Cannibals with their little problem?” Stone asks with confusion.
And by little problem he means someone from their group who was helping Senator Smith attack women for the Pillars.
“Cannon mentioned Jose from the Cartel has now gotten involved, something about the Pillars using their name to ship flesh,” he mutters, and I growl.
I fucking hate the flesh trade, all us brothers do.
“Trigger can’t go not with how shit is with Ashley, he needs to stay here,” Tank states and I give him a nod in thanks and Doc states, “I agree, thanks brother,” just as a ping echoes, and we all look at Dirty, who frowns as he lifts his laptop lid only to suck in a breath and look at me.
“I finally got a hit on the street cameras from nearly three years ago, of Ashley's attack,” he rasps.
I freeze as he quickly connects it to the large TV, and a still picture of my wife looking at her phone sadly comes into view. I quickly stand and walk over to the door before opening it, and I call, “Dad!”
He looks at me with a frown and he stands and walks my way as I choke, “I need you,” and he nods walking into to church but stills seeing what is on the screen and curses, “Fuck!”
“Play it, Dirty,” Doc orders quietly as dad quickly shuts the door, the run completely forgotten for a moment, and I try to breathe through the nausea, knowing what we’re about to watch.
The room is deadly silent as the footage plays, and I watch as Ashley drops her chin, her arms falling, and my heart fucking hurts knowing it was the text I sent her.
My dad grips my shoulder as someone comes up behind her as she puts her bag in her car, unaware of what is about to happen.
They grab her hair and yank her back away from the car before pushing her forward, ensuring to trip her, and the side of her face bashes against the concrete. I shake my head as my body trembles.
“I can’t fucking watch this,” I choke and bend slightly, but Dirty continues to play it, knowing we need to see it.
I watch in horror as someone else jumps on her back wearing a denim Cannibal cut while the first guy, also wearing the cut, grips her skirt, shoving it up, and Ashley, fuck, my wife, she fights, she kicks, trying to dislodge the fuckers, never giving up.
I choke on a breath as the guy on top of her quickly covers her mouth, and she tries to fight back harder, but it is useless with the guy on top of her, the fucking cowards.
I grab the chair and roar out, throwing it across the room as the first guy spreads my wife’s kicking legs and thrusts inside her roughly, tearing her and my dad holds me back as my tears fucking fall watching him rape the love of my life who never gives up the fight and I plead, “Turn it off Dirty, fucking turn it off…”
He doesn’t listen, and I know why, he wants to see if they get facial recognition, but fuck, I can’t.
I cheated on her when she went through that!
I need, fuck, I need my gun.
As if my dad can hear my thoughts, he holds me tighter, Tank coming to stand beside me, his hand going to my shoulder, and I flinch, not deserving the support.
For five whole fucking minutes, Ashley never gives up, even as the guy throws his head back in pleasure and ejaculates inside my wife, she never stops until he pulls out of her and spits down on her. That is only when she freezes, and I know she most likely feels like she failed.
Failed me, our son, and our baby, she is about to lose everything.
The guys turn, and I instantly get out of my father's hold, recognizing the first guy, the one who raped my girl.
“Why is he familiar?” Dirty murmurs, his voice raw, and I see tears in his eyes which lock with mine when I snap, “He’s Talen!”
That fucker, he… fuck…
Dirty’s eyes widen as Stone mentions, “I’ve seen that fucker hanging around a lot lately, around the convenience store, do you think he’s still after Ash? I mean she did dump him right? And she can’t know he’s the one who-who…”
My eyes widen as my stomach drops. Fuck, the store!
I rush towards the door as Doc says, “Brother, she’s safe, she’s on club property, Dirty will find him!”
“She went to the fucking store fifteen minutes ago!” I shout as I run out of the church, and several boots echoing follow me, the brothers all following.
I hear Dad shout, “Ol, stay with the kids!” as I rush out of the clubhouse and over to my bike, shouting, “Joe, open the fucking gate!”
The prospect does as I ask as I speed out towards the gate while panic and fear hit me for my wife, for our baby.
She’s in fucking danger, and I never even considered it, even after she told me that fucker hit her.
Doc was right all along, he did target her but not for information on us because she put up a fucking fight, he wanted her for the Pillars.
Fuck!