Chapter 16 Carmen
CARMEN
“Harry Reid International?” confirms the Uber driver as Otis and I slide into the back seat.
“Yep.” I clunk-click Otis into his car seat before securing my own.
In case of an emergency, one of the first rules of flying is to fit the oxygen mask over yourself before you help others, and that same rule applies for your own child.
It’s a concept psychologists have been exploring for years, books written around that very concept. The idea is—you can’t help others if you’re unable to help yourself first.
I disagree with this claim.
Otis is fine, but I’m already deteriorating with the same disease my own mother suffered with. Desire. The inability to control myself around the opposite sex.
I often wonder if he’d be better off without me. Ever since the auction, Otis has had more of a relationship with Sadie than he has with me, and I’m supposed to be his own fucking mother.
My decision to fly out of Vegas was a tough one, but necessary.
I’m not leaving the state for me—I’m doing it for Otis.
And that puts me somewhat at ease as the vehicle glides down the road, leaving our broken suburb.
Forever.
With money on my side, I can afford a nice place to live. Otis and I will be staying in a rental short-term while we find our feet.
The house is something out of a movie, set under a canopy of trees in Putnam County, NY. No hustle and bustle, no wailing sirens or lizard neighbors secretly judging us from their side of the barbed-wire face.
There aren’t even going to be any neighbors. For the next month, Otis and I actually have acreage. The kind of thing they have at the Venom Vultures clubhouse, except we have pine trees, wild deer, and streams to explore.
Not sand dunes and open roads.
I ignore my contracting chest and peer out the window, watching the distant mountains.
I suspect it won’t be as open in New York as it is here, where the land stretches as far the naked eye can see in front of you.
Out in the desert, you can catch a breath of fresh air, but I’ll bet you can catch an even fresher one in the thick of the woods, one filled with the rich smells of soil, leaves, and earth.
Gasoline, fumes, and sweat…
I push away the thought of the motorcyclists as the car merges onto a main road. The lanes break into three and the vehicle picks up speed, traveling away from the mountains. I have to let them go.
“Mommy!” Otis tugs my hand, taking my attention from the road. “What about home?”
“It’s time we build a new home together, baby. Somewhere new. Just the two of us.”
“But what about La Vegas?”
His undeveloped pronunciation of the place never fails to amuse me. “We’re gonna have a fresh start, honey, in New York. There will be deer in the back garden. Maybe, if you’re careful, they’ll let you pet them. How cool!”
Otis looks up at me with searching eyes, like he’s not buying the marketing. “But what about home?”
Not that damned question again. I force a smile and dramatically shake my shoulders, hoping that I look excited, not constipated. “Something better is in store for us, baby. Just you wait.”
“What about the lizards?”
I cackle and almost throw back my head. It would appear the little stinker has been eavesdropping in on mine and Sadie’s conversations.
“You will not miss the lizards,” I chuckle. “I promise.”
We arrive at the airport in good time.
But really it’s bad time—I was hoping to be in the car long enough to pull myself out of the gutter. The one I’m still in as Otis and I advance to departures.
Otis looks up at the terminal building like it’s threatening to swallow him whole.
Same.
It’s a challenging walk up to the entrance, but I make it to the revolving doors in one piece without them slicing me in half.
I grip Otis’s hand and guide us over to the check-in desk, where I’m greeted by a woman who looks much too happy to be working there.
“Passports please, miss.”
I stick a hand into my pocket and retrieve the documents, handing them over making a mess of myself.
The woman takes the passports from my shaking hand, opening to the correct page for me since I’m unable to do so myself. She probably thinks I’m a nervous flyer.
And that would be so much better than this.
She prints off our boarding passes and hands them over while I’m still shaking profusely.
“Security is to your right, miss. Enjoy the flight.”
Right decisions aren’t easy, I remind myself as I take myself and Otis in the direction she indicated.
How can I bring up a child when my life is being threatened by dangerous Irishmen?
And these threats aren’t empty. Conrad O’Neill has a plan. Considering the success of his auction, it would seem there’s nothing this man can’t do. If he can organize covert underground events and keep them secret, he can successfully kidnap one single mom.
The bikers want to help, but I know how these games go. Somebody will get hurt, and it’ll be my fault.
I push on toward security, lacing my hand with Otis. I join the line and exhale a deep breath. My heart hitches each time the line bumps up one, and before I know it, I find myself at the front working up the courage to scan my boarding pass.
As soon as I enter security, there’s no going back. This is a one-way door, and my fate is sealed the second it closes. For good.
I reach for the boarding pass and hover it over the scanner.
But then the scanner gets too close and it all becomes too real. What about Carter Trescott? He has a right to know he has a son, doesn’t he?
I shake off the thought—Sadie is getting into my head.
Complicated is never a good thing. That’s why I’m doing this.
But as soon as I go in to scan the pass again, my arm cramps up. Vex, Skipper, and Carter’s gorgeous faces illuminate in the red light of the scanner. And my brain just has to make them topless.
“Uh, hello. There’s a line here,” says the woman behind me.
I consider booting her in the face, but I also don’t have the mental capacity to deal with repercussions.
I snap around. “I’m aware. Thanks.”
She darts her eyes to the scanner, clearly in a hurry.
Now I have even more of a reason to take my time.
“What’s the deal?” she snaps. “You accidentally packed the Molly in your purse instead of shoving it up your vag?”
“Watch your language. He’s two.”
The woman tosses a hateful glance down at Otis.
And that’s the final straw.
“Get the fuck out of my way, bitch!” she shouts, shouldering me aside.
Missy chose the wrong day to piss me off. I spin around and slap her in the face. Then I weave through the audience, using them as cover as they gasp.
“We’ll give it five minutes,” I say to Otis as we make it back out of the terminal.
He doesn’t hear me. He’s too busy looking through the window at the woman who’s flaying her hands in a frenzy, trying to get through to the officer who looks like he doesn’t give a damn.
I turn around to catch my breath, and that’s when I see a Harley parked in the drop-off zone. Before I have chance to examine the registration plate, a body appears.
And my heart jumps.
Skipper strides toward me, greased in sweat and leather.
“This vacation’s for two. Sorry,” I blurt out before he has the chance to speak.
“That’s not why I’m here.”
“Why are you here?”
“Vex figured.”
“Vex?”
The other two appear like a magician act.
I clutch Otis’s hand harder as they make their way over.
“You can’t park there.”
“I’ll park wherever I want,” Carter says.
That’s when I notice the other two bikes further up.
I step back as they step in. But there are only so many steps back I can take before I’m in the terminal again, having to answer to airport security.
“Nice punch,” Skipper says.
I’ll accept the compliment later when all of this is over.
“I thought you were bikers. Not stalkers. Don’t tell me you took a page out of Conrad O’Neill’s book?”
“Not even to save my left ball,” Vex says.
I shoot them a knowing look and pick up Otis, burying his head in my breast. Carter Trescott knows he has good genes, but does he know them well enough to identify them on another person?
I’d rather not take the risk.
“This is Otis,” I introduce, keeping his face away from their prying eyes.
“Otis. That’s a good name,” Skipper says.
“I know, that’s why I chose it.”
Vex breaks the small talk with a dramatic sigh. “What are you doing here, Carmen?”
“I dunno.” I shrug. “Why don’t you tell me that?”
“You’re in trouble.” Skipper watches me with concerned eyes. “Conrad O’Neill isn’t going to stop.”
“Yeah, hence the airport.” I gesture to the building with a shaking hand, then hide it behind my back before they notice the trembling.
We’re not supposed to be doing this. I said goodbye to them, watched their bodies fade into dust as I rode away from what was only meant to be a one-time thing anyway.
I think it’s safe to say it’s not.
“You can’t just fly away,” Carter says.
“I have a son to protect.”
“Conrad isn’t going to call it a day just because you’re out of state.”
“What do you think I should do? Head over to Europe instead?”
Carter looks done with my shit. “No, Carmen.” He tugs me away from the building out onto the sidewalk. His lowered voice grabs my attention in a heartbeat. “He’s powerful. His men are everywhere, spread out all over the country. He doesn’t lose.”
“Vegas is no place for a child.”
Skipper interjects, stealing my boarding pass. “New York. Sounds blissful. Truly. You won’t survive a week.”
“It’s Putnam county, actually.” I snatch the pass back and survey each of them. “Why are you doing this?”
“We want to protect you. It’s what we do.”
“I thought attending misogynistic auctions is what you do.”
“Look,” Skipper says. “Say what you want, preferably behind our backs. But what about Otis? What happens to him when you’re taken?”
I catch Carter staring at me calculatingly. His gaze flicks over to Otis, eyes fixated on bleach-blond hair that I now wish was brown.
I have two choices.
One: Remain here with the bikers who want to save me.