Chapter 14
Nora
The horn wakes me in the middle of the night.
I hear two long blasts, the signal for danger incoming.
I bolt out of bed even though I’m supposed to take it easy, because it’s an emergency.
Emergencies mean all hands on deck. Still, I can feel a twinge of pain in my midsection.
Jinx is already gone, probably working with the other club officers to maintain security.
I go to look out the window and see an explosion on the other side of the left wall.
I don’t know what it is, but dark smoke is billowing high.
I don’t know how this happened, but the brothers are moving into place on the roofline and around the compound, like they planned.
A chill creeps up my spine to see the gate standing wide open when it should be closed.
Both of the chains that were wrapped around the bars are swinging free as bikes swarm around the compound.
They’ve come to get me and force me back home which is the last place I want to be.
This breach is my father’s doing. I grew up watching him use fire to destroy but also as a distraction.
While all the brothers are running towards the fire and trying to keep the ghost bikes we can hear but not see from entering the property, I’m all alone and I’m vulnerable.
And somewhere in the dark my father is watching and waiting for the perfect moment to grab me.
I open the window to shout a warning, but I suddenly hear Jinx yell, “Close the gate!”
He’s standing in the middle of the front parking lot with a gun in his hand and his back to the clubhouse. He’s standing between me and danger, just like he said he would. He’s realized the same thing I just did and he’s doing everything within his power to deny my father his moment.
When the gates swing closed and the brothers chain them shut, Jinx turns and runs into the clubhouse. I’m grabbing my clothes when I hear his feet pounding along the corridor as he comes to our room. He bursts through the door.
“We need to get you down to the safe room.” I pull on my jeans, shirt, cut and shoes. For some reason, he grabs a throw and wraps it around my shoulders before leading me out of the room.
“Queenie and Tessa are already in the safe room, and others will be very soon. You don’t need to do anything other than get yourself there.” He places his hand flat against my stomach and adds, “Stay there. Stay safe until I come for you.”
“Okay,” I say. “I know the priority is keeping our baby safe.”
He takes my face in both hands and kisses me.
“Stay safe, both of you. I’ll come get you myself when this is done. Don’t open that door unless you recognize the voice.”
I make it to the safe room to find Silver and Tessa at the door pulling people in, while Queenie sits in a chair with a shotgun across her knees. I can tell by the look in her eyes that this isn’t her first rodeo.
“Sit,” she says, gesturing to a loveseat across from where she’s sitting. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. The doctor said I was healthy. But it’s the stress that’s getting to me. I wish my father would leave me the hell alone.”
“Dr. Marsh is the best in the area, darlin’. If she said you’re good, then you are.”
Before I can respond, the electricity goes out. We’re sitting there in the dark for a couple of minutes, enough for the kids to start crying when the generator kicks in. Within moments the generator dies too and we’re plunged into darkness that doesn’t seem like it’s going to let up.
The women with children pull them into their laps and rock them. Tessa lights some candles. All we can do is sit there and listen to the sounds coming from upstairs and outside.
I jump when I hear gunfire from somewhere outside.
Queenie’s hand comes out to cover mine. I grip it tightly for a minute before letting go, embarrassed by my jumpiness.
The gunfire seems to go on for a while. Then we hear boots overhead, stomping and running at a fast pace.
Glass shatters and the sound makes me think it was a window. We can hear muffled voices shouting.
Then Striker’s voice calls out, shouting about the cameras. He seems to be warning them of something, but I don’t understand quite what.
“They’re inside the building,” Silver whispers in a panicked tone.
Queenie hisses, “Quiet, Silver.”
They are two women who have been forced to take shelter in this room before. I can tell because a knowing look passes between them. If anything, it gives me hope that we might get out of this alive.
A few minutes later, Queenie’s head comes up and she breathes deeply. “Do you smell that?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.
I can smell it. It was a strong chemical scent, one I recognize all too well.
“The Hyenas are flushing the building,” I tell them, my voice flat and wooden.
“It’s what they do when they want what’s inside, but they don’t want to risk going in and getting it.
” It’s one of my father’s oldest and best tricks.
“I don’t know what he uses. It’s not toxic, just really nasty.
Breathing that can’t be healthy,” I say.
My eyes are stinging and I’m trying not to retch, but even without the pregnancy hormones I’d be struggling. “I need to get out.”
“We’re all staying together, Nora. We don’t sacrifice anyone.” She walks to the door and calls out,
“Garret! What’s going on? Talk to us.”
“They put something in the ventilation. Jinx and Slate are trying to flush it out. Make for the back stairs!” he says, unlocking the door while coughing. “Whatever they’re using is getting thicker. Go now. I’ll cover you.”
Queenie leads the way. I don’t even know where the back stairs lead. I’ve never used that part of the building. I’m following Queenie, operating on blind trust.
Another prospect stumbles into view and motions for us to come.
Queenie rushes towards him, so the rest of us do too.
My eyes water up. I’ve heard stories about this stuff.
It’s a highly potent form of tear gas. The kids are crying because it stings their eyes.
This whole situation reminds me of what a degenerate my father is.
Four Hyenas come down out of the smoky corridor, like something out of a nightmare. They’re wearing gas masks to protect themselves from what they’re forcing us to breathe.
Garret doesn’t hesitate. He surges forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with the other prospect.
They pull out handguns so fast that I don’t realize they have weapons until they start shooting.
The Hyenas scatter and then regroup, immediately taking down the two prospects.
With it being four against two, it wasn’t really a fight.
The first prospect goes down fast but Garret fights dirty, like a man with a debt to pay. He’s feral, hitting, screaming, clawing and going for their weapons after they took his. When they club him with the butt of a rifle, I scream, “Enough!”
We don’t stand a chance against them but several of the women without children at their sides surge forward. One of them brings up his shotgun, hard and fast, forcing them to rethink the idea of swarming them.
Before I know what hit me, someone jumps me from behind forcing the other women to scatter.
A hand clamps over my mouth, and an arm circles around my chest like an iron bar, wrenching me backward off my feet.
I fight but I recognize the scent of the man holding me.
It’s my brother, Brave. Typical of my father to send him to do his dirty work.
I throw an elbow back right into his face.
“Cut it out you stupid bitch,” he hisses, clearly angry that I’m objecting to my own abduction.
“Let me go, asshole.”
He jerks my property cut so hard the shoulder seam of the cut tears. I follow Garret’s good example and fight like a wildcat, stomping on my brother’s foot, kicking his shin and going for his eyes with my nails.
“What the fuck? We’re trying to save your dumb ass, sis. Calm the fuck down.”
That must be what my father told him to get him to kidnap his own sister. “Get your hands off of me! I’m not going back.”
“Fuck off with that shit,” he says dragging me down the hallway. “You’ve had your fun with the Sons. We’re here to rescue you. It’s time to get home to your duties.”
When his arm clamps around my waist to get a better hold and his fingers dig into my stomach, I feel that familiar tug of pain and freeze.
I’m supposed to be on bedrest, not having a physical altercation with my brother.
I don’t know if this would hurt the baby, but I can’t chance it.
So, I do the one thing I swore I would never do.
I stop fighting and let them take me. It’s the first thing I’ve ever done to protect my child but I’m sure it won’t be the last.
Once we’re out of the building, Brave flings me at another biker. Before I can figure out who it is, the man whispers in my ear, “There’s my beautiful fuckin’ blushin’ bride.”
“Stripe, let me go. I don’t want to marry you.”
His hand comes out hard and fast around my throat. He doesn’t even stop walking. Instead, he drags me along behind him. “Shut the fuck up, princess. Money changed hands and you belong to me now.”
Stripe hauls me through the back parking lot with my heels dragging on the pavement. Behind us, I can hear the Sons brothers fighting their way to my side. Jinx is shouting my name, telling me he’s coming.
Stripe breaks his stride long enough to raise his gun and take a shot. I just know he’s shooting at Jinx, so I take a wild swing. My hand collides with his arm, moving it just enough for him to miss his shot. He curses under his breath and keeps moving.
They throw me into the back of a van and Stripe climbs in behind me and slams the door.
“Ride!” he barks. “We got the girl. Let’s get the hell outta here.”
The engine’s already running. The van peels out with me still struggling to get out.
It’s cramped and smells of motor oil and unwashed bodies.
My eyes are still watering from the tear gas and I’m having trouble focusing.
Despite that, I try to pay attention to where we’re going so I have some hope of getting back home again.
We turn left, branching off onto another county road.
I stare at Stripe, who hasn’t taken his eyes off me since we got into the van. He looks older than I remember around the eyes. But he has the same cold, emotionally vacant expression that chills me to the bone. He glances at the torn shoulder of my property cut and frowns.
He reaches over and slams his hand into Brave’s chest. “Don’t fuckin’ manhandle my old lady again. You won’t like my reaction.”
Brave brings one hand up to rub his chest, “Stupid bitch tried to run, what did you expect me to do?”
Looking back at me, he asks, “Why did you run, girl?” he says.
“Because I didn’t want to be your old lady,” I state plainly.
“You wanted that Rager, you’re wearing his fucking property cut.”
“I didn’t at first. He kind of grew on me.”
“I’ll grow on you as well,” he throws back.
I drop my eyes. I let my shoulders sag, because there’s no use talking to him about this. My hand slides up to rest on my stomach under my shirt. No one notices but connecting with my child reminds me why I have to find a way out of this situation, some way, somehow.
My mind says what my mouth can’t in this moment. Hold on, little one. Your dad will be along any minute now. He won’t leave us hanging.