JOHN BUTCHER HAD been someone I had looked up to for most of my adult life. Meeting him when I was only in my early twenties, I had just found out my mom was dying from cancer and I was bitter as fuck. But he made me laugh by saying something stupid. It was so dumb, I couldn’t remember what it was, but it stuck with me. Even after all of this time.
But now, watching him break in front of me, in front of us, I wanted blood. Whoever hurt him, hurt us, and we would get revenge.
“I don’t know what happened or why it happened. I’ve been quiet. Out of the spotlight. I took Cyrus and Sam and went to my parents’ cottage. I’ve been there this whole time.” Butcher’s body shook.
“Sit.” Bobby, or Shade as he liked to be called, pushed a chair behind him.
Butcher slumped, dropping his head in his hands. “I need your help. Please. I can’t … Fuck. I can’t lose Sammy too.”
The air surrounding us became thick.
“Where’s Cyrus now?” I asked, clenching my hands into fists.
“He’s with Eve and Jaron in our bedroom,” Greyson said, sitting forward. “We’ll find him, brother.”
Butcher only nodded. “I went to the police, but they won’t do shit. Even though he’s just a boy. They said he has to be missing for twenty-four hours before they’ll start searching for him.”
“Even though he’s a fucking kid?” I boomed, shoving to my feet.
“Tray,” Greyson said gently.
“No.” My head whipped around. “If it was your son, you would react the same motherfucking way.” I looked at Butcher that time. “Why are they not doing anything?”
“Because they’re paid off.” Butcher narrowed his brows. “You know that.”
“Doesn’t make it fucking right.” I sat back in my chair. Samson was a kid. He was almost ten. He didn’t deserve this shit. None of us did. And especially not Butcher. Not after he lost his wife already.
“I can’t do this without you guys,” Butcher confessed. “I need you.”
“You have us.” Greyson sat forward. “We won’t stop until Sammy is found.”
Butcher nodded, a shuddered breath leaving him.
“What do we know?” I asked, when Penny jumped onto my lap. I ran my hand down the length of her back. She yawned, digging her claws into my thigh and laid down. My heart became lighter from just her purr.
“I had put the boys to bed at around eleven last night,” Butcher explained. “I got myself a drink and went to the den to watch TV. I’ve been binge watching horror movies.” He met my gaze. “Trixie never liked them and didn’t want the boys watching them, so I never did. Until now.”
I nodded in understanding.
“I don’t even remember what I was watching now but I went to get another drink. Something told me to check on the boys. Not that I really needed to. They’ve grown up so much in the last year.” Butcher swallowed hard. “My gut was telling me to check, so I did, and Sammy was missing. Their window was open. I have no idea why they would only take him or what the hell they even want. There was no note. No one has tried contacting me. Cyrus doesn’t know anything because he was sleeping.” Butcher stood then and began pacing again. “I need my boy back. I need them both. Fuck, Trixie would kill me if she were still alive and something happened to them.”
“I’ll get in touch with my contact,” Greyson said, shoving a hand through his hair.
“You are not calling Sarge,” Butcher snapped.
“No.” Grey narrowed his eyes. “I’m not. Sarge is no longer allowed near us. You know that.”
Butcher blew out a slow breath. “I know. I’m sorry. Fuck I know.”
Sarge was a bastard. I never liked the guy. He had a hand in Eve’s kidnapping and ever since she was saved, Greyson wouldn’t let the fucker anywhere near the house.
“We’ll get your boy back.” Greyson stood, pulling a cell out of his pocket and brought it up to his ear. “I know it’s late, but I need you.”
(Zillah)
My phone rang, startling me. I rolled over onto my back, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and blindly searched for it. It was dark out. Was it nighttime already?
My hand hit the phone, knocking it off the nightstand. Grumbling out a curse, I picked it up off the floor and slumped back down onto the bed.
“Yeah,” I told whoever was on the other end.
“Zillah.”
My eyes widened. Sitting up, I clutched the phone in my hand. “Daddy.” I glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight. God, I slept that long? “Why are you calling so late?”
“It seems my little girl is trying to become a woman and make a name for herself.”
My heart jumped to my throat. “What do you mean?”
“You see, we got in an argument because you’re still not as mature as you think you are. Those pictures of you and Tray weren’t the only ones handed to me. Someone wants a piece of that club and now you’re stuck in the middle of it.”
I rose from the bed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I hadn’t done anything. My dad pissed me off, so I left.
“You’re right. Clearly, you don’t. That’s why I need you home. I can protect you.”
“I’m safe here.” I placed the phone on speaker and put it on the bed. “I don’t know what’s going on or why you’re even calling this late.” It wasn’t like him. He was always controlled and collected. Just like Tray. When the men in my life started losing it, it didn’t sit well with me.
“No, you aren’t. Those fuckers have a lot of enemies. Doesn’t matter if they’re trying to keep their noses clean. I’ve tried warning you.”
“Are you threatening me?” I knew my dad loved me. But he also loved his club and at times, I felt like he loved it more.
“No, I am not threatening you, Zillah, but I am warning you. If you don’t come home, we’ll come after you and you won’t like it when we do.”
I quickly got dressed, grabbed the phone and turned off the speaker. “I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me, but you need to leave these guys alone. They have families.”
“And you think we don’t?” my dad yelled. “Fuck, Zillah. You’re not stupid. Once Tray is done with you, he’ll toss you around to the next guy who needs a fix. You’re young. He’s older than you. Fourteen years older, in fact.”
“No.” I left the room, needing to find Tray. I started walking down the hallway at the same time he came up the stairs. “He loves me,” I told my dad.
He chuckled. “Right, Zillah. And you love him back, I imagine.”
“I do,” I said, my voice firm. “I do love him.”
Tray closed the distance between us and pulled the phone from my hand. “Sorry, Zillah can’t come to the phone right now.” He raised an eyebrow. “Do you kiss those sluts of yours with that same filthy mouth?”
Under normal circumstances, I would have tried getting the phone back, but this wasn’t normal. Something was wrong. I had felt it for the past couple of days. I didn’t know any club business when it came to my father’s shit, but this wasn’t like him. At all.
“You see.” Tray grabbed my hand, leading me down the hall to the main floor of the house. “Zillah is safer here than she is anywhere else.” He paused in his steps, his gaze flicking to mine. “You know about that?”
My heart jumped.
“Did you have one of your fuckers …” He blew out a slow breath. “Yeah, well that’s even more of a reason for her to stay here. Do whatever the fuck you want to my house. It’s only a house.”
“Tray,” I said gently.
He shook his head. “Come find her, Shadow. I fucking dare you.” He hung up the phone and handed it back to me. “We need to talk to the guys.” He kept a firm hold on my hand and dragged me the rest of the way down the stairs.
I had to double up my steps to keep up with him. His stance was stiff. That muscle in his jaw that I had come to love, ticked.
“What’s going on?” I asked him.
“Your dad’s going to come looking for you.”
“What?” I grabbed his arm, stopping us from going any further. “Tray. I need to leave. I can’t have them here.”
“Zillah.” He turned toward me and cupped my cheek. “I refuse to give you up without a fight.”
“But you said—”
“I don’t give a shit what I said. I love you, do you understand me?”
“I can’t have anything happen to you or anyone else. You guys have already been through enough.” I latched on to his vest. “Please, Tray. Just let me go. I’ll come back. I promise I’ll come back.”
“No. There is no fucking way I’m letting you go. Not now. Not ever.” Tray grabbed my hand again and kissed my knuckles. “Nothing is going to take you away from me. Do you understand?”
“But—”
“I asked you a question,” he said, his gaze hard.
I nodded, swallowing past the lump that had lodged its way in my throat. But it still didn’t mean I wasn’t terrified. I should have left. I should have gone to my dad and made nice. Be the better person. No, I should never have left in the first place. Then Tray’s window wouldn’t have been smashed in. Then we wouldn’t have been followed.
“I think my dad knows about the pictures of us,” I told Tray once we made it to the large front room of the house.
“I think he had us followed,” Tray told me.
“I … I don’t know what to do. I brought this into your house,” I said just as Greyson came up to us.
“Yeah,” Greyson growled. “You did.”
Tray moved in front of me, shielding me from him. “Back off, brother.”
“No.” Greyson shoved him. “If it wasn’t for her, we wouldn’t be in this mess. But you can’t help but think with your dick.”
“Yeah, because you’re any better?” Tray shoved him back, getting in Greyson’s face. “Should I remind you what happened when Eve showed up here for the first time? Huh? No? I suggest leaving this shit alone then.” Tray spun around, coming toward me. “I need a fucking smoke,” he mumbled.
“We need to stick together,” a larger man said, pushing off the wall. He was huge. With longer hair and dark eyes that held so much pain, they took my breath away. “I need you. All of you.”
“Well if this fucker wouldn’t have brought her here, then maybe this shit wouldn’t be on our doorstep and we could focus on finding your son.” Greyson popped the collar on his jacket. “But now we have more shit to deal with. All thanks to you, isn’t that right, Zillah?”
Tray brushed his fingers down my cheek and placed a kiss on my forehead. “Forgive me,” he whispered.
I frowned, not quite sure why he would be asking me for forgiveness when suddenly, he charged for Greyson.
Yelling sounded throughout the room.
Tray’s fists flew against Greyson’s face, the two men fighting like it had been years of pent-up frustration. The elastic band had finally snapped.
“Fuck, man.” Greyson threw punches of his own, finally shoving Tray onto his back. “Stop this. We need—”
“What the hell do we need, Greyson?” Tray struggled beneath him, but Greyson was larger. Much larger and Tray had been big all on his own.
I took a step toward him when a gentle hand landed on my shoulder. I looked up and found Catch standing beside me.
He shook his head.
I patted his hand and went to Tray and Greyson anyway. “I …”
All eyes were on me then. I realized that there were more men there than I had thought.
I swallowed hard, clearing my throat. “I went to see my dad yesterday.”
Greyson pushed himself from the floor, peering down at me with those cold calculating eyes of his.
But I refused to back down, so I stood straighter. “He showed me a photo of Tray and Catch.”
“What did you do?” Greyson asked me.
“What could I do?” I shrugged. “Whatever happened between them has nothing to do with me. But there are photos of me too and they got back to my father. He feels I’m not safe here and that Tray will pass me around once he’s done with me.” Bodies shifted around me, but I only continued. “I know that won’t happen. As much of an asshole as you are, I know you won’t hurt me.” I crossed my arms under my chest, staring up at him.
His deep blue eyes moved over my face before a chuckle escaped him. “You remind me of my wife.” He looked over my head. “You keep her here. She can stay but she stays in your room. Do you hear me?”
“Yes.” Tray came up behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders.
“Tell me what else you know,” Greyson demanded of me.
“I don’t know much. I’m the only female who hangs around that they don’t try and have sex with. But there’s a new club member. River Jones. I don’t think he would do anything but hell, I have no idea anymore.”
Greyson nodded, blowing out a slow breath. “We need this shit sorted. We need to find Butcher’s son.”
My eyes widened. “His son is missing?”
“Yeah, little one. He is.” The large man approached me. “His name is Samson.”
I thought a moment and called my dad.
“This better be you, Zillah,” he answered after the second ring.
“What do you know about a missing boy?” I asked instead.
There was a moment of silence. I actually thought he hung up.
“Hello?” I frowned.
“Zillah,” my dad murmured.
My heart jumped, my gaze moving back and forth between Greyson and Butcher. “Daddy?”
“You need to get out of there. Now, Zillah. Get the fuck out.” And with that, he hung up.
“I don’t … I don’t know what happened.” I pulled the phone from my ear. What the hell was going on?
Suddenly, the front door banged open.
Time seemed to slow down.
A popping sound started, the walls themselves seeming to almost explode with each hit. Shouting erupted into my ears when I was shoved forward and dragged to the nearby bar.
“Zillah.”
My name. Someone was yelling my name, but I couldn’t focus. My ears rang. Chaos unfolded in front of me. Men went down. Bodies huddled on the ground. Blood. So much blood.
“Zillah.” Rough hands cupped my cheeks forcing me to look up into Tray’s face. “Stay here, baby. Please stay here.”
I nodded even though I didn’t know what the hell was going on. Tray pushed away from me, leaving me alone behind the bar. Debris fell down around me, the mirror behind the bar counter shattering at the impact of each shot.
More shouting. More swearing.
But what tore at my soul was the screaming. So much screaming. The screams were so loud, I had to cover my ears. Please stop, please stop.
And then I realized the screams were coming from me.