Chapter 8
Rachel
I leaned over the bar to speak to Henry, who was serving drinks tonight. I was still agitated with him, but if he was serving, I was dealing with it.
It was damn near impossible to hear myself think, much less speak, over the hard rock blaring through the speakers and people shouting to be heard over the music as they “talked”.
I used to love being part of this scene when I was younger. My brother would drag me out every single time because I’d been too young for what went on, but I’d just sneak right back in.
Now, I wanted no part of it. All I wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep and try to forget that I was kidnapped and that I’d bashed in the skulls of two men. Even now, I couldn’t get the image of fucking brain matter out of my head.
My stomach rolled, threatening to make me heave.
“Give me a beer,” I demanded as soon as there was a break between songs.
Henry nodded and backed away. Since I’d told Callan about what happened, Henry had been keeping his distance as much as possible.
He was sporting a black eye and a bruised jaw, so I was assuming my brother got to him, too.
But shit, Henry had gone overboard. Maybe next time, he’d respect a woman’s privacy.
A hand landed on my ass, and I tensed, gritting my teeth. I glared over my shoulder at Orlando, narrowing my eyes at him. “Remove your fucking hand,” I snapped. I was sure Callan had warned him away from me, but Orlando was a fuckboy to his core.
He didn’t even get a chance to move his hand before a shadow loomed over me.
Callan appeared like fucking smoke and snatched Orlando’s hand off of me before punching him in the face.
Blood spurted from Orlando’s nose, and he yelled something I didn’t catch before Callan shoved him into a table, sending Orlando onto his ass.
The music abruptly cut off just as Henry set my beer in front of me.
Callan’s chest was heaving, his fists clenched at his sides.
Did my panties damn near get soaked? Hell yes.
Seeing Callan go a little unhinged over me did something to me.
But I also didn’t need a savior. I was capable of handling my own shit.
“Do not ever fucking touch her again,” Callan snarled at Orlando. “I already fucking warned you when she got here that she’s off fucking limits.”
“I had that handled,” I snapped at him. Callan turned his stormy gaze to me, but I held my ground. “I don’t need a goddamn knight to swoop in and save me, asshole.”
“You’re my old lady!” he barked. My eyebrows shot up because that was certainly news to me. “He knows not to fucking touch you.”
“I’m no one’s old fucking lady!” I shouted at him, blowing a fuse. Did he think I was just going to allow the claim without even a proper discussion about it first? He’d lost his fucking mind.
“You haven’t even properly asked me, you dick!
If you want some bitch to just bow down to whatever the fuck you say like your word is law, then I suggest you get comfy with one of the many whores who flaunt this place,” I snarled, throwing my hand out in the general direction of the rest of the room and the many women swarming the place.
Then, I snatched my beer off the bar and stormed off down the hall to my room, slamming the door shut behind me, too pissed now to want to deal with anyone.
And while I knew a locked door wouldn’t keep Callan out if he really wanted to get in, I flipped the fucking lock anyway. Maybe he’d get the goddamn message.
Who the fuck did he think he was, just storming up there and claiming I was his old lady? I wanted that more than anything, but I wasn’t about to be told I was. He could ask like he respected me, or he could go fuck himself.
Callan was gone when I woke up the next morning, and the clubhouse was quiet.
Only Brittany and Genesis were there when I emerged from my room.
Both of them were nursing cups of coffee, just enjoying the morning.
My niece was playing with her stuffed animals on a blanket that was spread out over the floor.
“Where’s everyone else?” I asked, patting my pocket for my cigarettes. I grunted, remembering I was out. Fucking hell. I’d smoked through them all last night to get through some of my anger over the bullshit Callan pulled.
“On an impromptu run,” Genesis told me, her voice raspy from smoking even though she couldn’t have been more than thirty.
I pulled out my phone to see if Callan had bothered to leave me a text, but nope.
Apparently, we were both still being stubborn…
because I didn’t bother texting him either.
And I sure as fuck was not going to cave first. I hadn’t been the one to punch a club brother in the face and shout that I was his old lady like we were mere animals in the wild.
Had he discussed it with me first, then fine. I wouldn’t have cared. But like fuck was he just going to barge into my life and lay claim to me like that without consulting me first. Because being a man’s old lady was a lot more serious than a fucking wedding vow.
That shit was literally until death do us part.
“I need to go to the store and get a pack of smokes,” I told them. “Who you sending with me?” I knew I wasn’t allowed out alone, and honestly, I didn’t want to be alone. Not after what happened last time.
“Henry and I will go with you,” Genesis said, standing from her seat. “I need cigarettes, too.”
Henry, having heard his name, popped out of the kitchen.
I shot him a disgusted look, and he promptly looked at the floor before silently following us out the door.
We piled into Genesis’s SUV, heading for the gas station up the street that I’d been kidnapped from.
Chills swept down my spine the closer we got, and my stomach grew queasy.
Lightning rarely struck in the same place twice, right? The odds had to be on my side. Besides, Genesis was with me, and she hadn’t just been handed her cut and rank. She’d earned it.
As we drew closer, the sound of a gun popping reached my ears.
A tire popped right after, and then another.
Genesis shouted something; I couldn’t fucking hear her over the sound of the SUV spinning out of control and then tipping over, rolling us down the steep embankment.
My scream got stuck in my throat, and when we finally stopped rolling, we were upside down.
Henry was unconscious in the backseat, blood pouring from his head.
His chest wasn’t moving; it wasn’t looking good for him.
I didn’t like him, but I didn’t want him to die. Especially because of me.
Genesis reached over and fumbled with my seatbelt. I dropped forward and groaned as glass bit into my skin. Pain exploded everywhere.
“Run,” she hissed as she grabbed her gun from the back of her jeans, still hanging upside down as I tried to right myself so I could help her. She weakly shook her head, trying to push me away. “Fucking run, Rachel.”
What the fuck did she mean run? “Genesis—” I couldn’t just fucking leave her! These mother fuckers would kill her!
“Go,” she snapped. “I’ll fucking be okay. But if something happens to you, your brother and Callan will mutilate all of us. You’re who these mother fuckers want—not me. Run.”
I swallowed thickly but did as she said.
After I crawled out of the broken car window, cutting my arms and legs all to hell, I checked the perimeter.
The car behind us was beginning to open its doors, so I sprinted for the woods right in front of me and took off like a bat out of hell.
I had no fucking idea where I was going. I just ran like my life depended on it.
Because it probably fucking did.
Gunshots exploded behind me. Metal groaned. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I snatched my phone out of my back pocket. My bloody fingers fumbled over the screen, and then I tripped, my phone landing—
“No!” I gasped, watching as it landed in a stream. I quickly lurched forward, snatching it from the water, but it was fucked. “No, no, no,” I mumbled, tears blurring my vision as hopelessness crashed down on me.
Something smacked hard across my back, and I sprawled forward again, my head slamming against a rock this time. My body was rolled over, and I blinked, staring up at the blurry image of…
Oh, fuck.
The president of the Sons of Grim MC.
He’d come for me.
“You’ve been a lot of trouble, sweetheart,” he murmured, crouching in front of me and leaning his arm on the end of his bat, which was what he’d probably smacked me with. My vision wavered, winking in and out. “I think I need to teach you a lesson.”
“Fuck…” Black spots began to spot my vision. “You,” I whispered.
Everything went dark.