Chapter Twenty-Two
I thought I was fine. I thought I could brush off last night and everything that happened, but I can’t, not when I see the damage it’s caused to my kids. Leaning back against the picnic table, I silently cry as I watch my kids play on the swing set just a little bit away.
My heart breaks as I watch them.
The kids have made so much progress since we moved here.
I’ve watched them become the kids that they always should have been.
They are both doing amazing in school, haven’t missed a day, and are on the honor roll.
They don’t look over their shoulders anymore or speak in low tones in fear of upsetting someone.
They aren’t afraid of telling me what they want or what they need, and it’s been amazing.
Hell, even I’ve changed for the better.
Then last night happened, wiping it all away in the blink of an eye.
Someone tried to break into my house. Two someones. I don’t know what they wanted with us, but I can only assume it has something to do with Evan.
Fucking Evan.
God, I wish I had killed him. Instead, I was a coward. I only ran at the encouragement of my eight-year-old son.
What kind of mother am I?
Yeah, I got us out then, and I got us out last night, but who’s to say I will get us out a third time?
Evan isn’t the type to ever give up. He will keep coming for me, over and over again, until he finally has me back under his roof, locked away.
If he gets me, he will kill me. I know it. It won’t be right away either. No, he will drag it out to make me regret ever leaving in the first place. He will torture me until my body finally gives up once and for all.
Then my kids will be left alone with him.
What will he do to them?
He’s already hit Tanner. I can’t even imagine what he would do to them if I wasn’t around.
No, I thought not speaking his name would keep us safe, but it has only made Mac’s job harder. He needs to know everything. I need to tell him the whole horrid story.
“Hey, you okay?” someone asks softly, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts.
Sitting up, I quickly try to brush away my tears.
“I’m fine.”
Kelly and Sloane sit down on either side of me.
“You know it’s okay not to be okay, right?” Kelly says.
“Having someone try to break in would fuck with anyone,” Sloane adds.
“It’s all my fault,” I whisper as the tears start to build again. “Fuck, I’m so sick of crying.”
Kelly reaches out and starts rubbing circles on my back.
“Let it out.”
“Someone trying to break in isn’t your fault,” Sloane tells me.
“But it is. If I’d never gotten tied up with him, none of this would be happening.”
Sloane tilts her head toward my kids. “True, but then you wouldn’t have them.”
“They wouldn’t be in danger and having to live under a fake identity,” I throw back.
“Hey, I know things seem really bleak right now, but the storm will pass. The guys are handling it,” Kelly tells me.
“That’s the thing. They shouldn’t have to. This is my mess. I should be the one cleaning it up.” I take a shuddering breath, trying to work up the courage to say what’s been running through my mind.
“What is it?” Sloane asks, reading me like a book.
“D-do you think I should give them up? If I left them and went back to him, they would be safe. He never cared about them, so if I left them with someone and went back, he would stop looking. They wouldn’t be in danger.” I voice the same thing I once thought before.
Sloane starts shaking her head before I even finish. “Absolutely fucking not. No way in hell are you going back to that dickhead.”
“What Sloane is trying to say is, as noble as the thought is, it wouldn’t work.
Men like your ex never quit. Yeah, it’s a nice thought in theory, but you have to remember, Jane, those two babies of yours are his leverage to get you to obey him.
Without them, you have no reason to do what he wants.
He needs them to control you,” Kelly says.
“Your best bet is to let the guys handle this. All they need is a name and some time,” Sloane adds.
“I don’t want them to get hurt,” I say, shaking my head.
Sloane chuckles. “Babe, it’s cute that you think your ex, who probably is some white-collar dude, could get the drop on a group of one-percenters who are out for blood. He wouldn’t see them coming.”
“She’s not wrong,” Kelly muses.
“Look, if you don’t want to tell them, tell us. Give us everything you know so we can tell them so they can end this once and for all.” Sloane reaches out and grabs my hand. “Trust us. Lean on us, Jane. I can promise you, none of us will let you down.”
“His name is Evan Anderson. He’s from Portland, Oregon, and works for his parents’ tech company.” Just those few sentences feel like a weight lifted off my shoulders.
“Good, keep going,” Sloane says as she pulls out her phone to take notes.
“How did you meet?” Kelly asks.
“We went to high school together.”
Kelly nods. “High school sweethearts?”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“When did you get married?” Sloane asks.
“A week after graduation and six months after I turned eighteen. We did it in his parents’ backyard.”
With each question I answer, I feel lighter and lighter. My shame starts to disappear, and I realize I’m not the one to blame.
Evan met me when I was young and impressionable. I didn’t know better. I didn’t know what I deserved. Sure, I knew it was wrong, but that’s it.
Now, as an adult with a fully developed frontal lobe and some time away from him, I realize it for what it was.
Abuse.
Not just physical, but mental. He was a narcissist who pulled me into his web.
But I escaped, and I’m never going back. Not unless I absolutely have to.
I just hope that Kelly and Sloane are right and the club ends this for me once and for all. Because the life I’ve built here, the friends I’ve made—it’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and I don’t want to give it up.
I don’t want to give him up.
I slide the knife along his skin, making him cry out. The dumbass who broke into my girl’s house is naked and tied to a chair. As hard as he fights, he won’t get loose. Not with those fancy-ass knots that are holding him in place, courtesy of Tank.
“Come on, man, stop. Please stop!” Dirk cries as I slice him.
Ignoring him, I cut him again.
Over and over, I run the blade across his skin, some deeper than others.
“You get anything off his phone yet, Fox?” Smoke asks.
“Yeah, his buddy sent him a text asking him if he got out. I messaged him back, telling him I did, and that I took Mac out.” Fox looks over at me. “Sorry, brother.”
“Hey, take me out. I don’t give a fuck what you say as long as we get the answers we need,” I tell him as I draw the blade across Dirk’s thigh.
“I asked him where he wanted to meet. I’m just waiting for him to respond. I’m still digging too, but it’s a burner,” Fox tells us.
My anger gets the best of me, and I run the blade over his Achilles tendon.
There we go. If he were to get out of the ropes, he won’t be able to get far.
“Son of a bitch!” Dirk cries out.
“You ready to talk yet?” Tank asks him.
Usually, Tank is the one to dole out punishments, but this time it’s personal, and I wanted to handle it myself.
“F-fine, I’ll tell you what you want to know. J-j-just stop,” he stutters.
Tank grabs onto my shoulder, and I reluctantly step away from my victim.
I’ve never had a taste for torture. Sure, I’ll get my hands dirty when I need to, but I much prefer to get it over with quickly. I don’t like to play with the person who did us wrong. This idiot, though, fucked with my family.
It’s personal, and he needs to pay.
Sure, he’s just some hired gun who didn’t know what he was walking into. This is why you always do your research.
“Who hired you?” Smoke demands as he comes to a stop next to me.
“Evan Anderson,” he says as he spits out blood.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Fox pulls out his phone and starts typing on the screen.
“Evan Anderson from Portland, Oregon. He’s thirty-eight and married a Jane Brooks nine years ago,” Fox says.
“Yeah, sure.” The dipshit shrugs.
“Why did he hire you?” I ask.
“The guy said his wife got mixed up with a bad crowd and that they took her and his kids and ran. He said he was worried about their safety. Said he tried to pay to get them back, but the kidnappers went silent. I felt bad for him,” Dirk tells us.
I scoff and begin to pace.
“A bad crowd? A hostage situation? You’ve got to be kidding me?” I rant.
“Chill out, Mac,” Smoke tells me.
“Chill? I can’t fucking chill. This guy beat his wife to a pulp, hit his son, and then has the audacity to say they ran off with a bad crowd? What the fuck!” I yell.
“How did he find her?” Gunner asks.
“Said he got a hit on social media. Something about seeing her in the back of someone’s photo. Look, man, the guy offered us five digits to bring her and the brats to him. All cash. We couldn’t say no. I didn’t know she was yours,” Dirk tells us.
Fox nods. “It looks like the guy’s best friend is a detective. If I had to guess, he paid his buddy to run his family through facial recognition.”
Son of a bitch!
I run a hand over my mouth as I try to calm myself down, but it doesn’t work.
Has he always known where she was? Has he been tracking her every move since the moment she left? Has he just been waiting until he was ready to strike?
“Just let me go, please. I won’t bother you ever again,” Dirk says, pleading for his life.
Tank chuckles. “Seriously? You don’t honestly believe you’re leaving here alive, right?”
“Come on, I didn’t harm them! Fuck, I didn’t even see them!” the dumbass cries out.
“Have anything else to ask him?” Smoke asks me.
I shake my head. “No, the guy doesn’t know shit.”
Smoke looks over at Tank, who reaches out and snaps Dirk’s neck without blinking.
“I texted the cleanup crew,” Fox informs us.
The guys all turn toward me.
“What are you thinking?” Smoke asks as he stands near me, arms crossed.
“She’s going to run,” I tell him.
“No, she won’t,” Gunner says adamantly.
I shake my head. “No, she will. I gave her everything she would need to hit the road. Now that he knows, she’s going to take those kids and leave. Fuck, she probably already took off.”
I lunge toward the door only to stop when Gunner steps in front of me, placing his hands on my shoulders.
“Take a deep breath, Mac.”
“But…”
“No buts,” Gunner says.
Reluctantly, I take a deep breath, and then another, but my heart still feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest.
I have to find them. I have to tell her if she runs, I’ll go with her. I can’t let her leave. I need them. Fuck, I love them. I can’t let them go out there unprotected.
“Sloane and Kelly are with her now. They are getting as much information out of her as possible. Okay? She and the kids are safe. They are on club property. The prospect at the gate knows not to let them out without your permission,” Smoke tells me as he comes up next to me.
Gunner steps back and pulls out his phone.
“The girls got a lot more out of her than I thought they would,” Gunner says as he reads the screen.
“Tell me,” I demand.
Gunner tells me everything—how she met him when she was young and the abuse happened early on, before Tanner was born, even. With every sentence, the dread in me builds.
It’s so much worse than I thought.
This needs to end. Evan Anderson needs to die, because if he doesn’t, my family will run for the hills when I’m not looking, and to be honest, I don’t think I’d survive if they did.