Misha
“Trip … Trip your phone is ringing … Trip.”
I didn’t know what time it was, just that it was too damn late for the phone to be going off. It had been a long day, and an even longer evening with Trip giving me all his attention, and I had no desire to hear his phone—or mine, for that matter—ringing off the hook at one in the morning.
Trip rolled over beside me, groaning, seeming to have the same idea I had about not wanting the distraction.
“’m getting it, ’m getting it …” He scooted away from me reluctantly, getting his phone from the nightstand to answer.
“The fuck do you want, Brig?”
There was some silence, a bit of gurgled talk I couldn’t really make out from the phone, before Trip sat up straight.
“Are you serious? When? Where? Fuck.”
I rolled over and watched him as he got out of bed, flicked on the light, and started rummaging around for clothing. I was confused and mostly worried; it was never a good sign when something was going down in the middle of the night. I sat up as he pulled on pants and a shirt and shrugged on his kutte. I frowned as all he seemed to do was listen to what Brig was saying on the other end of the phone, and swear intermittently.
“Yeah … Yeah … All right … Yeah … I’ll be there as soon as I can. See ya.” He hung up. “For fuck’s sake.”
“What’s going on, Trip?”
“Some assholes fucking around with Trixie while Travis and her were out. They ended up getting into a huge ass fight. Brig wants me to come down and smooth shit over; apparently, it’s some other club—”
“Jackals?”
Trip shook his head. “Nah, nothing like that, but we don’t ride around in our colors to be getting into some dumb shit like that. On top of that, there’s apparently a huge party causing a bit of ruckus over by Big Mama’s and long story short we’re killing two birds one stone.”
I frowned. That was a lot to go on in one night. “You want me to stay up for you?”
“Nah, babe. Go ahead and sleep. I’ll try to get back as quick as possible, okay?”
“Okay, hun. Be careful.”
He grinned at me.“Always, babe.”
He kissed me on the forehead and left. I tried to go back to sleep after that, but I found it difficult. Something didn’t feel right. I figured perhaps I was just being paranoid, as I had been for the last few weeks in a state of constant hypervigilance. I decided to go downstairs and make myself some tea, wait up a little, and then see for myself if I could possibly get to sleep after having the warm, calming liquid.
I put the kettle to the stove and pulled down my favorite loose leaf. Trip called it ‘bougie,’ but there was nothing better to me than loose leaf tea steeped to perfection. As I let the water heat, I stood by the kitchen window.
My brows furrowed when I caught a movement.
It’s probably just a raccoon or an opossum, I reasoned. There are a lot of those out there.
Once more, I brushed off the feeling that something was off. It was night, I was alone, and we had been on a bit of a high alert for the better part of the last few weeks. But this was just simple club stuff, and we were way out of the way.
Away from people that could help.
I groaned. I didn’t need to be giving myself those kind of thoughts!
I looked outside one last time, giving whatever animal was out there the glare of a lifetime before turning back to my kettle. It started to slowly whistle and I took it off, getting my mug and the little metal ball with my tea in it ready. I set them on the counter to steep, and was about to get out milk and sugar when I heard something outside.
My heart thumped in a small panic.
It’s just a raccoon. They like getting into the garbage cans in the middle of the night, that’s nothing new—
But what I heard next didn’t sound like a raccoon. It sounded like bikes and car tires rolling around the dirt and gravel road that led to the house. I was very familiar with the sound of the Pride boys’ trucks and bikes—there was always a distinct kind of sound that every vehicle made, regardless of whether or not it was a run-of-the-mill little car or something fancier. I had gotten good at figuring out the differences in the sounds of different cars.
None of these belonged to the Pride boys.
I left my tea and bounded up the stairs. Whoever it was that was outside wasn’t welcome, and I needed to get Rose and call Trip. Something wasn’t right, and I had a feeling about what it was.
I dashed into Rose’s room, feeling bad about waking my little girl, but it was necessary.
“Rose? Hun? Come on, sweetie, you need to wake up.”
She rolled over, blinking tired little eyes at me.
“Mama? Mama, what’s wrong? Is it time for school?”
“No, sweetie. Come on. There are some people outside and we need to hide, okay? We have to be very, very quiet and—”
There was a loud bang at the door, like someone trying to knock it down. I heard an indistinguishable shout, and my fears mounted then.
“Mama—”
“Hush, Rose, come on!”
I didn’t wait for her to react, scooping her up in my arms and running down the hall to mine and Trip’s room as a second bang rang out, and I knew that the front door had been kicked in when the sound of thudding boots hit the wood floors.
“I saw her in through the kitchen window. She’s somewhere in here. Find her and the girl; Rigger wants ’em both.”
I grabbed my phone from the nightstand when I ran into the room, and had I had the time, I’d have grabbed the gun, too. But I knew that I needed to hide, and I knew that trying to get in a firefight with these assholes wasn’t going to end well for me; I was outnumbered, and had Rose to think of and not just myself. I scooted us into the closet, thankful it was deep and hoping that the clothing and closed door would be enough to hide us.
“Mama—”
“Shh, baby, shh.”
I could hear them tearing up the house. Glass shattered and broke. I heard them turning over furniture. Hastily, I sent a text message to Trip, not willing to risk them hearing me talking on the phone.
Message Sent – Trip: Jackals are at the house. Inside. We’re hiding. Send help.
I clutched the phone in my hand and held Rose close to me as she shook in my arms. The front of my nightgown was soaked; she was crying silently, and I rocked her back and forth as I heard them making their way up the stairs.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” There was a sing-song voice, one I recognized as Rigger’s right hand man, Callum. My heart sank as what I had just been surmising was confirmed.
I scooted farther back into the closet with Rose, keeping her head pressed to my chest as I felt her continuing to shake. I tried to steady my breathing so that she wouldn’t pick up on my panic. I had to be strong for both of us.
The noises got louder and louder, until they were in my room. I listened to them talk.
“Messy bed. Wonder if he’s been laying it to her good since she came back,” one of the men said.
“Rigger’s gonna be mad his girl’s been putting out on top of scuttling off.”
“I’m sure he’ll set her right.”
My jaw clenched at the words and I held Rose even tighter. Though she shook, she didn’t speak; she knew being quiet was key. They were tearing everything up. I could see through the thin spaces in the slats of the closet.
I glanced at my phone, hoping to see an answer from Trip. Nothing. I shook a little and hoped that whatever had gone on with Travis and the wild party they’d beenasked to break up wasn’t a part of all of this.
“Oh, Miiishaa …” Callum called, entering the room.
“I don’t think she’s in here.”
“Can’t be too many more places she can hide in this house—”
Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Beep-beep!
My eyes widened and I tried to silence my phone as a call came in.
No, no, no—!
“Found you.”
The closet door was pushed open as my phone continued to ring, and I pushed Rose behind me as a pair of hands reached in and grabbed me. I kicked and threw punches at whatever I could, but thick arms wrapped around me, staying my struggle.
Callum was a big man, always wore shades, and was as kind as a pit viper and loyal as a dog to Rigger. I hated him almost as much as I hated Rigger, because he was the same kind of deviant shit that Rigger was; it was Callum that had come up to Rose at the park the day she’d been out with Travis and Trixie.
“Let go of me!” I bucked against him, and he laughed.
“Woah, woah there. I don’t think so. I went through a lot of trouble to be the one to find you for Rigger. Now, you’re gonna come with me. Or—” He nodded to one of the several Jackal men that were in the room, all in their kuttes with very visible guns strapped to their thighs. The man stepped toward the closet, pulled his gun, and pointed in. I heard Rose whimper from within.
Any struggle that was left within me died when I heard that. I knew that begging was out of the question; Rigger had a bounty on me, and no amount of begging would work. I had to cooperate.
“Fine. Fine. Just don’t hurt her, please. She has nothing to do with this—”
“Perhaps not. But Rigger wants the both of you, you see—”
“I thought the bounty was only for me!” I tried to twist and turn in Callum’s arms, but he held me steadfast.
“You hear that from your friend, Jared? Rigger always knew he was a little slimy son of a rat. He kept most of the information from him while giving him a little bite. Kinda funny, really, when he cut and ran and we knew he was gonna go to you. I followed him; got a li’l drop. Followed a trail. Now I found you, and you’re both coming back and it’s up to you if it’s in one piece or a whole bunch, so make your next choice wisely, Misha.”
I sighed, and knew I’d been had. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll go.”