Chapter 2
CLAIRE
I used to be good at things. I used to have a job, a home. Friends and a social life. I used to have beautiful clothes and cared how I looked when I left the house.
But now, sitting in the back seat of this truck, my sweaty thighs stuck to the leather, behind a man who looks as mean as a young Mad Dog—whose name I don’t know, who is taking me and my daughter God only knows where… I can’t believe there was ever a time I was anything other than what I am now.
Broke.
Broken.
Bought.
How did I get to this place in my life? I mean, I know the story. I know the guy I fell for, the way he changed, the ways I failed to see so many signs before it was too late.
But now? I’m literally powerless.
I have a driver’s license in my back pocket and my baby in my arms. That’s it. I have the signs all over my face and body, showing what it cost for us just to make it out alive.
I guess that has to mean something.
We’re alive. We’re together.
What happens next… We’ll have to just take it as it comes, no matter how scary.
No matter how much worse it gets. But it can’t get worse… Can it?
Famous last words that I vow to never, ever say again.
Aurora is sound asleep. The guy driving the pickup sounds impatient, and I can’t imagine the world of hurt we’d be in if she were fussing.
“There’s a blanket back there,” he barks. “I’ll turn up the AC. Cover that baby and stay low. I’m going to drive nice and easy.” He says baby like it puts a sour taste in his mouth, but that doesn’t surprise me. The guys of the Hellfires club weren’t exactly fans of my daughter either.
I close my eyes and rest my head against the back of the seat, trying to disappear into the chilled leather.
I must have fallen asleep in the first cool air I’ve felt all day, my baby tucked against me, because the next thing I know, the truck is slowing to a stop. The guy behind the wheel turns in his seat. “Stay here. Someone’ll come for you.”
I’m shocked that I dozed off, and I feel a little sick waking up. It takes me a minute to remember where we are and what happened before my stomach sinks.
Someone is coming to get me.
My mind races through the possibilities, each one worse than the last. Selling me again. Selling my daughter. Keeping us and… My God.
I tighten my hold on Aurora and kiss her sweaty head. No matter what happens, I will go to my grave fighting for this baby. No one has ever laid a hand on my daughter, and the only way anyone is going to hurt her is if my cold, dead corpse is buried six feet deep.
She is all I have, and she is all that matters.
No matter what these people intend, I’ll do anything—and I mean anything—to keep my daughter safe.
As soon as the driver leaves the vehicle, I weigh my options. And surprise, surprise, I have none. I could run—but how far would I get barefoot and carrying an infant?
I don’t know where I am or what’s going to happen to me now that I’m here, but I sure as hell can’t make any decisions until I know what they expect of me. I try not to think of my mother, but I can hear her voice in my ear telling me to fight like hell, run like mad, do whatever it takes.
Mom wouldn’t believe it if she knew how my life had gone downhill since she passed.
I blink back tears and thank the heavens Momma isn’t here to see me fall apart.
To watch me let my daughter down in ways that she could so easily have done with me.
But my mother was different. She was talented and free.
She raised me alone like it was easy, even though I know, behind closed doors, she suffered and struggled. She just never fell this low.
If I were half the woman she was, I would have left Anthony the moment I got pregnant. But I believed his lies. I na?vely hoped… Well, it doesn’t matter what I hoped. I tell myself I am strong enough to do whatever it takes. Even if I hardly believe it.
“Are you Claire?”
A woman’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts.
I lift my head from the cushioned bench seat and see a stunning woman.
She looks a little older than me, but her smile is warm and inviting.
Just seeing her makes me nearly light-headed with shame.
Her long brown hair is styled in beachy waves that fall past her shoulders.
She’s wearing a little bit of glittery eye shadow and gloss on her full lips, and her nails are painted a pale, summery pink.
I know that because her hand hovers over a very pregnant belly.
A pregnant woman? What the hell are these guys into? I didn’t think anything could be worse than Anthony and the Hellfires club, but this woman looks amazing. There’s no way she’s here against her will… Is she?
I must look confused as hell because the woman’s face practically melts as she opens the door a little wider. Her eyes land on my daughter, and I instinctively clutch Aurora tighter. She will not take my child. She will not hurt my baby, no matter how pretty she smells.
But the woman makes no move toward us at all. She just smiles again, beams of literal sunshine streaming from her bright teeth, and she waves. “Oh, hi there, sweetheart.”
She babbles away like we’re meeting at a summer barbecue and not like I’ve just been bought off some bikers in an arms deal. “Is that your baby?” she asks. “What is she…six months?”
I nod and swallow down a whole encyclopedia of emotions: fear, dread, and, worst of all, shame.
I try not to think of what my filthy feet and matted hair must look like to this woman.
Her kindness is setting me a tiny bit at ease—not that I trust her.
She must have kids of her own, though. She figured out Aurora’s age to the day.
Aurora just turned six months last week.
Right before Anthony…
“Your little one must be hungry or at least thirsty.” The woman gives me another one of those smiles that is so bright and welcoming, I almost feel a little better. She seems sincere, but I need to be wary.
No one is ever what they seem.
At least, not in my world.
“I’m Poppy, Phantom’s wife.” She pats her belly, affectionately rubbing a hand over the expensive-looking floral maternity dress. “I have a son, he has two daughters, but this little butterbean is our first together.”
I process what she’s saying. “I don’t know who Phantom is,” I mumble, instinctively reaching down to smooth Aurora’s hair. I catch a whiff of a sour smell and realize she needs a diaper change.
Poppy grins. “I would say he’s the mean-looking one, but they all look pretty scary at first.” Her face darkens a little as she looks over my black eye.
To me, these men don’t just look mean, they’re fucking cruel. The shame rises up yet again, and my throat burns.
She rushes on. “Phantom is the president of the club, the Hurricane Heat. He’s that one.”
She points to the trio of motorcycles that are pulling up beside the truck.
One man, a dark beard covering his face and dark tattoos covering his arms, gets off his bike and heads toward us.
I shrink down a little lower in my seat without even realizing I’m doing it.
There’s no hiding, though. Nowhere in this pickup truck to bury myself and pretend none of this is happening.
As much as I want to melt away and disappear, it’s obvious by now that’s not happening. If I could go invisible at will, I would have done it years ago.
“You know, honey, it’s going to be okay,” Poppy says softly to me.
“You’re completely safe here.” She turns then, and a massive set of arms circles her.
A man holds her close and murmurs in her ear before giving her a long, passionate kiss on the mouth.
His hands snake down to cup her rear end through the light, flowy dress she’s wearing, and for a minute, my heart shatters into so many pieces, I don’t know how I’ll ever pick myself back up.
Anthony never held me like that. Kissed me, treasured me. At first, he showered me with attention. He was intense and demanding, but never like this.
Poppy laughs and lifts on her toes, and I can see she’s wearing the cutest sandals. She’s beauty, light, and joy, and she’s a mother with another on the way.
“Claire, is it?” Phantom has let Poppy go, and he’s bending down to peer into the back seat. “Poppy’s going to take good care of you.” He slaps her behind, and she shakes her head then gives him another kiss before he walks back to his bike.
Poppy gives me a huge grin and waves her beautiful, tanned, slim arms. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s get you settled.”
Settled? I don’t know what that means. Who these people are. What they think of me, what they want from me. In that moment, I can’t believe that I feel worse being around pretty people, people who love and care for each other, than I did being trapped with Mad Dog, Anthony, and the Hellfires club.
I can’t say anything, and I can’t move.
It’s all too much, and it hits me all at once, like a freight train to the chest. I look down at what’s left of the months-old polish and the dirt and grime from being forced out of the compound barefoot this morning. I feel sick to my stomach.
“Are you okay? You look pale, honey… Savage!” Poppy turns, and all I hear is white noise in my ears, a sudden ringing.
I rest my head back against the seat. I don’t know who Savage is, and I don’t have the strength to care. The truck is off and the AC has stopped blowing, so the temperature is rising.
“Hey.” The guy who bought me from Mad Dog climbs into the back of the truck with me and slides across the seat. He stays a good distance away from me, like I’m a wild, caged animal. “Claire?”
He looks me in the eye, and for the first time, I notice how beautiful he is. Not picture-perfect like an actor, but he’s rugged. His deep brown eyes meet mine, and the next thing I know, he’s nodding at me, holding out his arms.
“Take my hand,” he says. “I’m going to get you and your baby out of this truck. We’re going to take it nice and slow. Get you food, a shower, and some rest.”