Chapter 36
STEVIE
Frost has shown another side to him; a side of gentleness and adoration.
He has me forgetting all about sex in public.
It’s so controlled. Pleasurable. We’re quietly absorbing the experience when there’s a crack in the air.
Frost doesn’t hesitate to throw his body on top of mine, wrapping his arms around my head to protect me.
His biceps form a barrier like his body does.
He’s exposed in more ways than one of being shot, yet me and the babies are his first concern.
Anarchy erupts. Shouts to take cover. Shrieks.
I can’t see anything, only the chaos tossed into the air, but I refrain from becoming hysterical. In my head, I repeat tears are for later. Frost will take care of us.
Another crack.
In an instant, he’s on his feet, pulls on his trunks, jumps into the water, tugging me into his arms, and lifts his legs high, running through the water to a large tree by the bank of the lake.
Now several gunshots exchange.
Behind the tree where we left our clothes, he fumbles for a gun out of his shorts. I’m squashed like a bug between the large tree trunk and Frost, as his head angles to the side of the tree, shooting. I’m biting my lip to prevent a scream. A shot hits the tree, snapping at age-old bark.
Someone yells, “Gears!”
I slant my head to the side, but Frost grabs my face and says, “Don’t look.” He nods toward a wall of rock to our left, separating land and water. “Crouch down behind the rock and stay there. Do not leave until I come for you.”
My noodle legs crouch down by the rocks, which has a small ledge wide enough for my feet.
Anger is set into Frost’s face as he glances at me before raising his gun, running out from behind the tree.
The hammering of blood drowns out the noise, like drifting on top of the water with your ears slightly below the waterline.
I’m aware of all the horror spinning around me, yet the sounds are muted.
This catapults me back to the warehouse with Ace.
The rape. The electric shock. Talons of the past tug at me, causing my heart to race.
My body trembles like the waves in an ocean.
One after the other, the currents hit from head to toe.
Blood lines my lips, leaving half-moon markings on my fingers from jamming my fist into my mouth.
My eyes close, and I rock back and forth at the memories.
Ace tears off my shirt. Wrists tied and hung from the ceiling like a dead carcass.
A smack to the face. To my breasts and pussy.
Fingers me. Buzzing. Bolts of electricity. Ace raping me.
Gunfire. Lots of gunfire.
And then Frost hoists me down, covers me with his cut, and carries me away. Like a horrifying fairytale, the woman is whisked away by the man she’s destined to be with, but not before the unthinkable becomes reality.
Something touches me and I scream.
Frost holds my head, eyebrows knitting, as he asks, “Rebel, what’s wrong?”
I’m sobbing, shaking so hard it causes me to vomit. Afterward, Frost carries me into the house, and then the washroom.
On the toilet seat, he cocoons me in his arms, rubbing my back, and whispering, “They’re gone, Rebel. No one’s going to hurt you.”
Through hiccups and sobs, I mention, “It just…” I snuggle my face into his neck. “It just brought me back to the warehouse.”
“What warehouse?”
My voice drifts out like ash. “Ace’s.”
Frost curses under his breath, tamping down my hair, and kissing my head. “Ace is dead. I made sure of it.” Two more kisses and he asks, “Can you calm down? It’s not good for the babies.”
He rolls the toilet paper, ripping it off and handing it to me. I pat my face, eyes, and blow my nose. Frost is right, I have to calm down, yet I have to know.
“Did anyone get hurt?”
A long pause has my head rising to meet his gaze. “Gears was hit. We’re not sure he’ll make it.” Tears rise to the surface, but he says, “No, Rebel, enough crying. Once you collect yourself, you’ll sit in the living room while we cleanup.”
“I can—”
“No you can’t. All the women are in the living room. Duchess, Willow, they’re all fine. A bullet ricocheted off a chair, grazing a Sweet Butt, except it’s nothing serious.”
Frost rests his chin on top of my head, squeezing me tighter, swaying from side to side. “Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll die before anything happens to you and the babies.”
In the living room, the women talk about where we were and what we saw.
Duchess was bringing beers to the guys when the shot rang out, zooming past her head.
Skull hid her behind a table while they all retrieved their guns and shot toward the lake.
Pirate ran to the front of the house. Skull called out to him that there’s no way they can climb a ten-foot fence with spikes and electricity at the top.
The threat is on the lake. Pirate called back to Skull, letting him know he’ll do a quick check.
Willow said she saw a couple of guys in a speed boat zoom by, which has me freaked out. They could have shot me if they saw me.
The only one shot was Gears in the abdomen, and he’s already on his way to the hospital.
Skull called in a favor, and he’ll bypass other emergency patients.
The less information left at the hospital, the better the chances of no cop involvement.
Turns out the Sweet Butt with the graze is Casey, the jealous one from the salon.
Smokey and Skull knocked off a couple of guys in a boat, which chased the others away.
Now, men are set up along the perimeter until cleanup is complete.
I’m asleep when Frost comes in, wakes me for the drive home, which is quiet. He’s lost in his own thoughts, and I’m exhausted. From the driveway, everything appears intact, but Frost demands he check the house first. He gives me the thumbs up, and I go straight to bed.
Frost is on the phone when I finally make it down to the kitchen in the morning. He checks over his shoulder, gesturing for me to come by him. My arms wrap around his torso and I rest my head on his chest.
“Yeah, I’ll meet you at the drop.”
I hear something about Gears, but I didn’t catch it. Frost’s eyes drop to me while he continues to say uh, huh.
He tosses the phone on the counter and hugs me. “I’ve gotta go.”
“How’s Gears?”
Forced air comes out of his nose. “In critical condition.”
Frost leads me to the refrigerator. “There’s a bunch of shit in here. Eat! I’ll be back at lunchtime.”
He checks his gun in the kitchen. “Do you always carry a gun?”
“Yep!”
My eyes flick from the gun to him. “Where do you keep it?”
“Out of the way. Our kids won’t find them.” I rub circles over my chest. “Say it, Rebel.”
I look away and shrug. This is what scares me. The guns. Where Frost disappears to. I didn’t choose this life, but it’s where I belong. I just wish the lifestyle didn’t come with violence and 9-1-1 calls. There’s no point voicing all of it.
Frost crowds my space, tipping my head back by my hair. “This is how we live.” His face softens a bit. “I’ll do what I can, so it doesn’t bleed into our house. But we’re all family, and we take care of family.”
He kisses me on the lips. “We good?”
“Yeah, we’re good.”