Toi
I’m kicking my own ass. I shouldn’t have waited so long before I checked on Harley. I gave him entirely too long—which gave that fucking bitch Cherry way too big of a head start. I get Harley back and I take out my frustrations on that fake redhead, I’m going to set Marcum’s ears on fire. He locked Cherry up, but there wasn’t a guard around! Harley got her free easily. I mean, I know we were under attack and he had his men involved in that, and then watching us… but still. He hasn’t seen her as a real threat this entire time.
“Big, strong, he-man, macho ass. You can’t underestimate a woman. We might have tits, but we can also be more dangerous than a man, and mostly because men never worry about us.”
I’m muttering to myself and I need to stop it, because talking is getting harder. I’ve used my voice too much today and I missed my last dose of steroids and medications. Marcum’s right. I need to stop worrying and have that surgery. I’ll cave in if we all survive this. Being afraid seems ridiculous, considering everything that we are going through now.
I swore the last time I was in this damn tunnel I wouldn’t come back. In fact, when this is over and I kill Cherry, and Harley and I are back with everyone else, I’m going to demand that Marcum destroy these damn things. Who has secret passages and tunnels in their home? I ignore the fact it probably comes in handy when you’re an outlaw motorcycle club with a leader who can piss off the Pope without barely trying. Hell, he could have tested the patience of Mother Teresa. Yet I love him and when he’s not making you want to pull out your hair he can be unbelievably sweet and caring.
A man who is everything I always wanted and never thought I’d find. I need to tell him that if I survive this. I know there are moments he still beats himself up about so many things when it comes to us. He doesn’t realize I don’t care about his past, or what he does. He doesn’t know that to me he is the most amazing man I’ve ever met. I don’t care about his age or that I’m closer to Max’s age than his. I love him. I’ve told him I love him, but I’ve never told him the rest. I need to.
I will.
I stop walking and strain to hear. It’s light, but I can hear someone up in front of me. I take a shuddering breath and pick up my speed, trying to remain quiet. I make my way through the tunnel by feeling the walls. If I had been smart, when I discovered Harley and Cherry already gone, I would have grabbed a damn light.
As I turn a curve, I can see light ahead. It’s coming from outside and it’s entirely too déjà vu, for comfort.
“Cherry maybe if we told Daddy we wanted to stay, he would let us. He wouldn’t have to love us, but we could still stay,” I hear Harley say and tears sting my eyes. I’m going to enjoy sending Cherry to hell.
“You know better, Harley. I told you what he said to me. He doesn’t have any place in his life for either one of us now. That bitch wants us gone,” she mutters just as they push on the old door, opening it.
I blink from the glare of light, trying to adjust my eyesight and then I stop thinking. Her words and the pain she’s causing an innocent, confused boy are nearly destroying me. I run as hard as I can. When I get to them, I see shock on her face and I can hear Harley yell, but I’m focused on Cherry. I jump the last little distance, hurling my body into her and tackling her to the ground. I pull at her hair, I claw at her face and I’m pretty sure I’m more than ready to rip her throat out with just my hands. The only thing that stops me is Harley’s cry and the sound of guns cocking and preparing to shoot. I freeze. Cherry must have heard it too, because she goes still underneath me.
I look up and see three guns pointed down at us. The men are all impeccably dressed in suits. Who wears suits and packs rifles like they’re sporting? It’s like something out of a damn Al Paccino movie. That’s not what chills me though. It’s the man standing directly across from me. His face is scarred, obviously from a fire. He’s wearing a patch over one of his eyes and the scars are so thick there are ridges on his skin. He’s wearing a suit too, but his hands are as pink as his face, telling me the scars are just as deep on at least some of the rest of his body.
How does a man survive a fire like that?
The thing that scares me the most, though, is that he’s holding Harley by the neck, and there’s a pistol pointed at his head.
“My bride, finally I have you.” The man smiles and my heart flips in my chest.
Oh shit.
Cherry grabs my hair and yanks it, pulling me to the side as she gets up. She stands up and kicks the shit out of my stomach. I curl from the pain. Even though the chance is miniscule, I pray that I’m not pregnant.
“Bitch,” she says and spits on me. I hear Harley cry and I try to open my eyes, afraid they will hurt him.
“I told you I would get her, Alvaro. All it took was bringing the kid and she followed like a dog. She thought she was being so quiet. I had to stop several times just so she’d catch up with us.”
Well, shit… so much for thinking I was being all stealthy.
“You done well,” he says and his voice is so cold. He’s not even talking to me this time, but it still chills me just the same.
“Good. Now did you bring the car and the money, like we agreed?” she asks.
“I have everything ready for you,” he agrees and I see his face. I’ve seen evil before in my father, but this man makes my father look like a pussycat. I don’t think Cherry realizes what’s going on, but I see it from a mile off.
“Good. If it’s all the same to you, I want out of here before Marcum and his men show up for her or the kid.”
“Cherry, are you… you’re taking me? We can’t leave Toi…” Harley cries, his body shaking in the man’s arms.
“Give me my son, please?” I ask the man reaching for the little boy. He looks down at Harley and then at me. His face tilts and I get the feeling he’s testing me, measuring me. I don’t care. I just need to get Harley. I need him in my arms, but more importantly—I need to try and shield him. “If you give him to me, I’ll do anything you ask, please. Just let me hold him,” I beg.
“Interesting. The child is not yours and yet you claim him?”
“I do. I love him.”
My words seem to shock him. For whatever reason, he shoves Harley toward me. I catch him in my arms and he cries harder, but he hugs me tight.
“Sorry, kid. You’ll learn, though. It’s a tough world and people like you and me, all we have to depend on is ourselves,” Cherry says, and for a minute I think I see regret in her eyes.
“You used me,” Harley says. His little body is still shaking, but his tears slowing down, and he’s still holding to me tightly. “You used me to get Toi,” he says, shuddering, but proving he’s as smart as Marcum when it counts. He’s definitely Marcum’s child. I need to make Marcum believe that if I get the chance. I look at the gun the scarred man is holding and I can’t help but think that it’s not going to happen.
Cherry looks at Harley and it’s definitely regret I see on her face now, but she turns away, refusing to look at the little boy she’s leaving behind—probably to die.
“I need my shit so I can go,” she growls.
I see the man raise his pistol and I pull Harley deep into me, drawing his head to my chest to shield him.
“Don’t look, Harley. Don’t move,” I urge him quietly in his ear. He knows, God bless him, he knows though because he’s crying again and his body is shivering so hard, it’s shaking me.
“I’ve got exactly what you deserve,” the man says, and he shoots her.
“But…” Cherry cries and falls down on the ground. He shot her in the shoulder. I’d like to think it’s because he’s a bad shot, but I know better. He wants her to suffer. “Why?” she cries.
“Because you’re a viper and you spit on my property,” the man says as calmly as if he was talking about the weather. And then he unloads his gun—in her head.
Blood splatters and I scream as it hits my hand and the sleeve of my shirt. It even splatters on the back of Harley’s shirt. I look at Cherry lying in front of me, her skin instantly pale, almost blue and her eyes open… and I want to vomit.
“Toi!” Harley cries, but I hold his head tighter, not wanting him to see what I’m looking at. He should never see it.
I don’t want to see it.