Chapter 23
If you think 7 years of bad luck is too much for breaking a mirror, try breaking a condom.
-E-card
James
“Is it possible?” I asked my sister.
“Well, not by this weekend, that’s for sure. She can’t make anything easy, can she?” She grumbled as she started sending texts on her phone.
“I don’t know who all she’d want to invite, but do your best. Maybe ask her brother? He’d know.” I instructed her.
She glared at me. “I’m perfectly capable of this. Did she say what kind of dress she would want?”
I nodded, and explained what Shiloh had told me last night about the train. “She didn’t say much else about that.”
“Okay, you’re free to go.” She said, flicking her hand in a shooing motion.
I did just that, leaving Cheyenne’s place, and following the sounds of kids playing towards the side of the garage. There, I found Gabe, Max, and Jack sitting on the benches while the kids played on the jungle gym we’d built during the summer.
Then I saw what Gabe was doing, and laughed. “Wh-what the hell are you doing?”
He smiled brightly at me, took a sip of his beer, and tugged on the length of the rope in his hand. The rope itself was about a hundred feet in length connected to a swing that had his son, Luca, sitting in it, hunched forward sleeping.
“Ember needed a nap, and Luca here wasn’t cooperating. Works every time.” He nodded at the swing.
“Why are you tugging on it with the rope?” I asked curiously.
“If I stop pushing him, he wakes back up. I was tired of standing.” He said simply.
I nodded in understanding. We’d all been there. Who was I to judge? Hell, I remembered when Janie was a tiny baby, all of three weeks old, and she’d wake up in the middle of the night for the fortieth time, I’d prop the bottle on my chest, and snuggle her in close, falling asleep while she ate as slow as a tortoise.
Max stood when Harleigh started to scream in the baby swing behind us and popped her pacifier back in before coming and sitting back down.
“Zander was a bucket of information last night. He’s currently in police custody. Luke loved the video, by the way.” Max grinned.
“Oh, yeah. It was something to see all right. I was scared shitless for her, then turn around to see her beating the man to death with that huge dildo. It was the highlight of my life. Aside from having Janie, that is.” I laughed.
“Where’d she get it?” Jack asked.
My eyes flicked to his, noting that he looked much more relaxed. Much more happy than I’d ever seen him. “Some chick threw it at Shiloh when she yanked my pants away from her. I was wondering why she’d kept it, but I’m glad she did.”
Silence. “So you really stripped?”
“It was a bet. You know I don’t go back on my word.”
“Sadly, we do. Just don’t let it happen again. I don’t want my wife seeing you in your tighty whities again.” Max murmured.
“Where’s Cat?” I asked Jack as I took a seat beside him.
I had about five minutes before I needed to leave, and I decided to take a load off. My body was exhausted. I’d had a tough two months, and it didn’t look like it was going to get any better anytime soon.
“My brother has her. He took her to the fire station for a show and tell.” Jack rumbled, sucking down another swallow of beer.
“What?” Was echoed by Gabe and myself.
“They got some new equipment for infants or some shit. Winter volunteered Cat to test the fit on a few of them.” Jack informed us.
“Oh, well why do they need to test them out beforehand?” I wondered.
“You don’t want to find out in the middle of restraining an infant after a car accident that your backboard doesn’t work on a two month old, or a one week old. Nor do you want to find out that a blood pressure cuff is too big, therefore not giving you reliable readings, making you not give a needed medication en route that could’ve saved a kid’s life.” Gabe explained.
I shuddered. It was hard to think about a two month old like Cat needing any sort of medical treatment for any reason. Just to think of Janie on a backboard gave me heart palpitations.
“Yeah, that’s about what Winter said.” Jack agreed.
“All right. Well I have a training exercise. I’ll catch you guys later.” I said shaking each of their hands.
The ride to the police station had me looking over my shoulder the entire way. I knew someone was following me. When I stopped at the only stop light in between Free and the training facility, I sent a quick message to Sam, who was watching over Shiloh today.
Sam and I had decided after the last incident, that it was best to have one of our own guys on Shiloh. It wasn’t that we didn’t have confidence in Sebastian’s MC; it was that when one of our own was in trouble, we made sure that we were the ones doing what was needed. When it came down to it, we knew each other well, and we knew that we’d protect with our lives. Each and every one of us had done nothing less for each other, time after time. We knew without a doubt that the same would be extended to our significant others and our children.
What I hadn’t thought, was that I would need that protection for myself. I’d been too arrogant, too sure of myself.
I never saw the shooter. Never saw the bullet.
When the bullet from a sniper’s gun slammed into my body, I was thrown from my bike. I looked down, at the hole in my t-shirt at my lower right chest, and knew I was screwed. I was going to die.
The blood welled from just a small round circle, to encapsulate the entire front of my t-shirt within moments, and I knew I was going to die. If not by the sniper that was likely to put another bullet in my head, then by the gunshot wound I’d sustained. It was becoming hard to breathe, and my vision started to go hazy at the edges.
Then, the last person on earth I’d suspected to see in the world, came up from behind me in a black sedan, and stopped with the passenger side door only inches from my prone body.
The door clicked open, and a frantic Jolie popped the door open, swinging it across my body. She reached down, with her tiny fucking hands, and unceremoniously hauled me into the car, grunting, crying, and cursing.
“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.” She chanted repeatedly.
“Oh, fuck. I knew this was going to happen. Jesus.” She cried.
I tried to help the best I could, but only managed to use my feet right about the time she’d done the hard part. I pushed the last few inches until I was leaning back against the seat. She leaned over, yanked the lever, and I dropped flat, the weight of my upper body slamming the seat backwards until I hit the limit of the seat, and came to a jolting halt.
“Sorry, sorry.” She said frantically.
Then she leaned over me, pulled the door closed, threw it into gear, and slammed the gas down to the floorboard.
A ping in the back glass had her jumping, but not once did she slow down. She blew through stop signs and stoplights alike. Feeling my brain going fuzzy, I lifted my hand opposite my bullet wound, and plugged the hole that was steadily leaking blood. My finger sunk in, stanching the hole with one large finger. Even the jolt of pain wasn’t enough to stop the hazy feeling from taking over.
After the third near collision, I passed out, knowing that one thing was true.
I’d failed.
***
Shiloh
“What kind of cookies does your daddy like best?” I asked Janie.
We were waiting for Sam to get back from the store with the flour and sugar for our cookies. I’d managed to get James to purchase all the ingredients I’d need, however, I’d misjudged the amount of sugar and flour that we had.
Sam had been reluctant to go at first, but after Janie got in on the pleading action, he’d agreed, albeit reluctantly.
I was in the process of melting chocolate in the saucepan for the peanut butter balls while Janie scoured over the recipes, deciding which ones she wanted to do next.
Sam had been gone for a little over ten minutes when the power went out.
I looked out the kitchen window. I was frowning at the bright sunshiny day when it struck me how odd it was that the power had gone out on a day like this. Sure, it was cold, and we had a chance of icing rain, but that wasn’t until much later in the day. It was rare for the power to go out. James had just explained this morning when I asked if we should be worried about the rain that in this portion of the city, the power lines were buried, and it’d take a bulldozer digging down eight feet to disrupt the power.
Knowing that something was wrong, I trusted my gut and turned off the heating chocolate.
“Janie, I think we need to go to the safe...” I whispered urgently, walking up to her and taking her hand.
“Too late.” A man said jovially.
Janie gasped in fear, shrinking back into my embrace, and I clutched her as well as I could to my chest, cursing myself ten kinds of stupid for thinking we might need more sugar and flour, and sending Sam to the store.
Dammit.
“Who are you?” I gasped.
“Oh, baby. This is gonna be fun. Cute girl.” The man leered.
Emotions welled up inside of me. Ones that heated my blood, causing rage like nothing I’d ever felt before to tear through me at his audacity. I gritted my teeth. I wouldn’t provoke him. Not with Janie to worry about.
Janie was shaking in my arms, and the sense of defeat tore through me. We weren’t getting out of this. The man was freaking huge. Easily James’ size, if not bigger. Tall, large ropey muscles, tattoos of skulls, naked women, and a grim reaper dominated his arms. His hair was dark, nearly black. The beard on his face could rival my father’s, but instead of keeping it tidy like my father did, this man’s was just everywhere. I swear his nose hair literally grew into the beard as well. He was hairy to say the least.
His eyes were the color of emerald jewels. Exactly like Zander’s eyes.
So this must be the brother. Glen.
Damn, but I sure could pick them.
“Are you going to come on your own? Or do I need to knock you out?” He asked, taking a step towards me.
My eyes watched his feet as he got closer to me, and widened when I saw the knife that was sticking out of his boot at the base. Four inches long at least, all it would take was one kick, and I’d be dead. God.
“I’ll come peacefully. I’ll come. Please don’t hurt us.” I pleaded.
“Walk out the door. Go to the van. My men are outside, so don’t think you can do anything funny and get away with it.” He guided me, one hand on my lower back, to the door.
I held Janie protectively against me, but found my arms empty in the next moment. Janie was tossed on the floor like a piece of trash.
“We’re leaving the girl here as an incentive. A show of good faith, if you want to call it that. Don’t worry though. You’re still going to come.” He snickered.
Then he turned and regarded the whimpering Janie, holding on to my arm now, gripping it so tightly that I couldn’t cover up the wince.
“You stay here. Tell that old man that we’ve got something he wants. It’s us making the call now.” The man, Glen, instructed Janie.
Relief poured through me at knowing that he was leaving Janie here. Thank God, he only wanted me.
The door opened and he all but shoved me out of it. The only thing keeping me upright was his rough grip on my arm. Janie’s squeal of alarm brought my attention back to her as she started to come towards me, wanting only to help.
“Janie, baby. It’s okay. You stay here, talk to Silas for me. Tell him what this man told you, okay, sweetie?” I pleaded with her, hoping that she’d stop her advancement.
Luckily, she listened, and the door closed behind us, cutting off my view of her. “Get to the truck. Don’t fuck around. No sudden moves or the girl’s going with us, too.”
When I was in the truck, Glen followed me in, shutting the doors behind him. When he turned, I was too slow to react, and found his face close to mine. I shrunk as far into the side of the van that I could, but there was just nowhere for me to go. I was stuck.
“Zander tells me you have a hot pussy. I think I’ll try it out later.” He jeered, running his rough hands down the side of my face, and then down lower, in between my breasts, and down my stomach.
I puked. Everywhere.
Boy did I puke, too. It wasn’t one of those dainty throw ups where you bend over and it comes out. No, this one was projectile. It went from the bottom of my stomach, out my mouth, covering Glen, past Glen, and then covering the wall behind him.
I’d eaten a ton of cookie dough, bacon, eggs, and pancakes in the hours since I’d woken that day. There was a lot to throw up. Eventually, though, it stopped and silence poured through the van.
The men in the front seat looked on in horror, and I cringed back, praying his retaliation wouldn’t hurt too bad. But it did.
His fist snapped out, landing along my jaw, snapping it like a piece of kindling with his massive fist.
The blow sent my head into the back of the van, hitting it so hard that the glass cracked on the window behind me. My vision swam, and I prayed that I’d wake up, and still have my clothes intact. Still be living.
I lost the fight with consciousness in the next moment, staying awake long enough to feel the next blow that landed on my chest, stealing the oxygen from my lungs before I passed out completely.