Birds of Hell MC, page 24
“I’m your jerk.”
“Yeah. You are. I’ll see you tonight. Any request for dinner?”
“Whatever you want is good with me.”
“Meatloaf? I can run by the store.”
“Good deal. I’ll call you when I get off and before I forget, Keys is gonna come by sometime to install a security system. He may not be able to get to it for a day or two but if he comes by that’s why.”
“Is that necessary?”
“It’ll give me peace of mind.”
“Okay. Text me later and let me know about what time to expect you home.”
“So you can sneak your other boyfriend out?”
“You caught me.”
I open her driver side door and once she’s in with her seat belt secure, I go in for one more kiss. “Don’t forget to drop off your prescriptions.”
“I won’t.”
“And, babe?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m really happy we’re having a boy and a girl.”
“Me too. A daddy’s girl and momma’s boy for each of us to spoil.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Chapter Eleven
I push the shopping cart through the aisles, grabbing ingredients to make Fisher a meatloaf. My drive around town hunting for help wanted signs hanging in windows was a total bust. At least for places I’d consider applying at anyway.
I know Fisher says he doesn’t mind if I’m not working, but one baby let alone two on one income is hard. I know because Yara doesn’t work and her and Whiskey have had their struggles. I don’t want Fisher pressured to provide and getting stressed. So stressed he ends up making a mistake like he did before. Not that I think he’d be that stupid a second time around. The allure of easy money doing side jobs for the club can sucker anyone in.
I know my father is into illegal shit. I’m not mad about the fact. We all do what we have to for survival. I just don’t want Fisher taking the risk while he’s on parole.
“Hey, Freya. Long time no see.”
I glance over to see Jimbo at the opposite end of the aisle coming toward me in his standard security guard uniform. He carries his taser around, holstered like it’s a gun. Shoot. I’m not in the mood to socialize with him. The guy is nice enough. Albeit a little weird. Sometimes he’d creep some people out with the way he’d stare at them when he was working at the bar. He works various security jobs around town. I always tried not to read too much into it. I know he had a crush on me at one point. He asked me out once which I politely declined. I wouldn’t say he’s ugly. A little on the short side and a bit geeky.
“Hi, Jimbo. How are you?”
“Where’ve you been?”
“Around.”
“We miss you at The Terminal. When are you coming back to work?”
“Oh, um…I’m not.”
“Why?”
It’s not really any of his business but I know he’s probably curious. He used to walk me to my car when I’d work till closing. “I guess you could say I’ve moved on to other things.”
His face falls. His mouth turns into a frown as he stares at his shoes. I can’t help but notice the tight grip he has on his own shopping cart. White knuckled as though he’s angry.
Growing uncomfortable by his clear agitation, I shoot him a weak smile. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around.” Or not, I think to myself as I start pushing my cart past him.
“I didn’t know you got married.” He grabs my hand and rubs a finger over my engagement ring.
I snatch my hand back. “Not yet. I better get going.”
I don’t wait for a response. Jimbo is odd but harmless.
Fisher sent a text that he’s running late which works out since I spent more time at the store than I thought I did. My cell vibrates with a new text.
Unknown: Are you alone?
I glance around the house and quickly move to close the blinds and lock the door. I don’t respond to the text message. I ignore it. I know it’s probably Death contacting me from a different number since I blocked him.
I try to shake off the eerie sensation that haunts me that someone is watching me as I finish putting the groceries away.
I’ve never been bothered by being on my own. Only since April and Hillary were murdered, I’m more cautious.
Unknown: Just want to talk.
Unknown: I know Fisher isn’t there.
Freya: Just stop. All you need to know is that though we slept together a few times, I’m not having your baby. So please, leave things alone. Let me be happy with Fisher. No more sending me dirty text messages. I don’t want Fisher to think I’m going behind his back.
I put my phone on the counter and start getting my ingredients for my meatloaf ready.
I half expect Death to text me again or to knock on the door, but he wouldn’t be that stupid or careless. There are some lines even he won’t cross.
I dice my onion and mix it in with my bread crumbs, eggs, seasoning, and hamburger meat. Once I get it in my pan and into the oven to bake, I start peeling my potatoes to mash, wishing I’d gone the lazy route and bought instant or premade. However, those don’t compare to the real deal. I want this meal to be perfect.
I hear the loud roar of a motorcycle and my mood instantly improves. Fisher’s home. I drop my potato skin peeler in the sink and rush to the front door to greet him on the porch.
My smile immediately dies before it fully forms.
Death throws a leg over his Harley looking all broody and sexy like a biker God on a mission. Dressed in dark jeans and a black tee under his cut. He strides toward me, and I run back inside. I’m not doing this. He can’t be here.
I lock the door behind me and pray he leaves.
His fist knocks against the door three times. “Open up.”
“You need to go. Fisher catches you here you’ll wish he hadn’t.”
“Let him come. I’m not leaving till I speak to you.”
Fuck. I suck in a breath and hope with all I have in me he says what he needs to and gets the heck out of here before Fisher arrives home.
I open the door against my better judgment because the moment I do, Death is coming at me. “What the fuck is your problem?” he charges at me, backing me against the wall.
“I told you to leave me alone. What do you want?”
“How do you know the baby isn’t mine?”
“Shouldn’t you be planning your wife’s funeral?”
“I don’t give a fuck about that. What I care about is why you’re playing down what we had. I know I was a grade A prick. I pushed you away but I’m here now so you can tell me to my face that you don’t feel nothing for me. If you’re going to lie to me about whose baby is growing inside you, least you can do is do it to my damn face.”
“I admit that we had hot chemistry but that’s all it was. It was sex. Great sex, but I don’t love you. I’m going to marry Fisher.”
“What?”
“He asked me this morning and I said yes.”
Death’s hand wraps around my throat. “I told you that you were mine and I didn’t want to share you.”
I pull at his fingers. “It’s too late for that. You’ve had months to speak up. All you did was push me away. You don’t love me. You loved the idea of me. The idea of getting a do over because you lost your son. I get it. I sympathize. I do. I hate that you are hurting. I hate that your son is dead. I’m not going to give up a man who loves me no matter what, who has been fighting every step of the way to keep me. I know love and I know lust. We were lust and I’ll always remember how good you made me feel. But you’ve gotta stop texting me. You can’t show up here like this making demands.”
Death slams his lips down on mine, demanding entrance to my mouth. I don’t return his kiss. I go rigid like a statue.
He jerks away from me, seething. “You really want this? A life playing second best to whoever Fisher decides to fuck you over with next.”
“Fisher isn’t the one fucking every woman from Tennessee to West Virginia.”
“Right. You got me there. I’ve never hid the fact that I like to fuck.”
Fair enough. He hasn’t hid it. Though he sure talked a big game about how he wasn’t going to fuck anyone else when he was fucking me.
“Why are you here? I know you don’t want my father to know we slept together. So, what is this? You don’t like to lose?”
“I couldn’t see past my own anger to know what I was doing. I fucked up by giving you up.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I can’t say what would have happened had things gone differently when Fisher first returned. I didn’t expect this. I never asked for any of this. It’s too little too late on your end.”
“You came to me when you left town. Biggest mistake was letting you drive away. Had I stopped you then it’d be my bed you’re sleeping in. Did Fisher ask you to lie to me? He tell you to say he’s the father of your child?”
“I’m having twins. Fisher’s babies. I’m going to marry him. Nothing you do or say will change that for me. You need to accept it.”
“You don’t mean that. I saw how he broke you. How he cut you to the bone.”
“It was all lies. I wanted to believe the worst in Fisher because I didn’t think I deserved to be happy. I was fucked up in the head and lonely. You filled a void. A hole that was in my heart where he was missing. If that hurts you then I’m sorry, but that’s the truth.”
“When he fucks up again and trust me, he will. I’ll be waiting.”
“I hope you find that second chance you’re looking for. It’s not going to be me. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish cooking dinner.”
“Yeah. You do that. You play house with Fisher till you tire of each other.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t reduce my relationship with Fisher to your sham of a marriage to Belinda. I love Fisher and he loves me. There’s a difference in being with someone out of necessity and staying with them because you can’t stand the thought of living a life without them. I know about Beth. Did you ever love her? Have you ever loved anyone other than yourself and your dick?”
“You don’t know a damn thing about me or Beth.”
“Because you never really opened up to me the way I did you. You don’t love me. You never did. You may have cared about ne to some extent, so please stop trying to force something that isn’t there.”
With that Death hangs his head and he leaves without uttering another hateful word.
I stay locked in place, the door wide open as his motorcycle roars into the dark of the night. I meant every word. I hope he finds someone to love. Someone to share his life with instead of filling it with nameless and faceless notches on his bedpost. I don’t know what he’s searching for, but I now know it isn’t me. He’s lying to himself. I see through the tough facade. He’s hurting and lashing out at me while at the same time clinging to the fantasy of what we could have been.
Though Death is long gone, and I’ve since closed and locked the door, I still sense this creepy sensation like someone is watching me, lurking in the shadows. I can’t shake the inner tuition deep in my gut.
I’m on edge and I hate it. My gut clenches every time the pipes groan or the wind howls.
I’ve not heard from Fisher and thought he’d be home by now. I stare at my ring finger and smile like a complete lovesick dope, trying to ignore the ominous vibe that I can’t seem to shake.
Chapter Twelve
It’s late. Fisher hasn’t responded to my text messages and when I call him, I’m sent direct to voice mail. His phone is either off or he doesn’t have service. My stomach churns with bad thoughts of worst-case scenarios. One, he saw Death here and rather than talk to me he’s off somewhere pissed and getting back at me. I don’t really believe that. It’s better than option two. He’s been in some terrible accident and hasn’t been identified.
I try the garage but there’s no answer. Not that I expect anyone to still be there this late. With little choice of much else, I call my sister. I hate to be that nagging girlfriend that needs to know her man’s every move. That’s not who I am, usually. I mean he’d be off doing his thing all the time before when we were dating. Tonight is supposed to be special.
“Hello, little sister.”
“Hey, can you ask Whiskey if he knows where Fisher is?”
“I would but he’s not home. Something about club business. Or some shit. So, I’m assuming they are together.”
Relief floods me, though I’m slightly miffed he didn’t let me know his plans changed.
“Ok. Thanks.”
“You good? You forget what it’s like to be with a biker?”
“Yeah, I guess I did. I’m being a worrywart and overthinking.”
“Me and the kids can pack up and come over or you can come here if you want.”
“That’s all right. Thanks for the offer though. I’m going to leave him a plate in the oven and head to bed.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll be fine. I just wasn’t sure if he found out Death stopped by and got pissed off ya know.”
“Hold up. Pump them brakes. Death stopped by your and Fisher’s place.”
“Yup. It wasn’t pretty. He was being all weird talking about how we could be together, telling me how I don’t really love Fisher. He was so angry with me.”
“Was there any truth in what he was saying?”
“A few months ago, I might have felt differently. Not now though. I see it all for what it was. You warned me about getting involved with him. I should have listened.”
“Being weird? How angry? He didn’t hurt you or anything did he?”
“No. Not really. He pushed me into the wall and grabbed my throat. He wasn’t rough. Super pissed.”
“I think me and the kids should come over. You don’t know how late Fisher will be and if Death knows you’re there alone he may come back. Maybe Belinda dying so soon after their son has pushed him over the deep end. Maybe the dude has snapped.”
“Maybe. He wasn’t himself, exactly. He’s been through a lot lately. I don’t know. Maybe I’m reading too much into the whole situation.”
“Don’t make excuses for that shit. It’s not okay for him to show up unannounced and corner you like that. I don’t care what his reasons were. I’ll be there soon.” She mumbles to the kids to get their shoes on. My sister has her own issues but when push comes to shove, she always shows up for me.
“I’m going to clean up from cooking. I’ll see you guys soon. Thanks, Sis.” We hang up and already I’m lighter. Less worried. With my sister coming over to sit with me, I don’t have any more creepy thoughts about someone spying on me. I do a quick run through the house to make sure the bathroom is clear of dirty clothes on the floor and wipe down the sink. Not that Yara would mind the house being untidy. She’s not always been the greatest housekeeper and between Whiskey and the twins, there’s always something to clean.
It isn’t long before Yara is knocking on the door. Though I’m not amazed she got here this fast. “That was quick,” I tell her as I open the door, expecting her, Luna, and Soren. “What are you doing here?” Shock colors my expression as I’m jerked forward through the doorway. Something zaps me in the neck and the next thing I know I’m falling.
I wake up confused. The last thing I remember is Yara was on her way over after Death went all nuts on me. I go to rub my eyes and realize I’m bound at the wrists. My head is all swimmy and I’m nauseous. I rub my wrists together and the rope binding them digs into my skin.
Okay. I need to stay calm and think. I need to figure out where I am and how I got here. If Death thinks he can kidnap me and force me into being with him he’s got another thing coming. The dude has totally lost his mind.
I can reason with him. Make him understand that he doesn’t love me. He only thinks he does. If he lets me go before Fisher realizes I’m missing, maybe the club won’t kill him. He’s going through a rough patch. Losing his son. Now Belinda. Even if he didn’t love her, he must have cared for the woman on some level. She was the mother of his child. He spent ten years with her. Even if they were toxic there had to have been some type of relationship between them.
My vision clears and I realize I’m in a trunk as my body jolts with movement as though we’re traveling down a bumpy road. Screaming won’t do me any favors. Though I do know that newer model cars have a safety latch that will allow trunks to be opened from the inside.
If I manage to get it open. Then what? Am I going to jump from a moving car? My life isn’t my own. Anything I do can impact my children. I have to consider them in every choice I make.
Say I jump, what if that puts me straight into moving traffic?
The vehicle comes to a quick stop, and I roll forward, slamming into the hard trunk top. My head throbs with blinding pain. As I’m trying to regain my bearings the trunk door opens to a masked man. I blink, attempting to make out his features, to see if I can recognize any identifying tattoos on his arms.
“You don’t want to do this,” I plead as a familiar hand with a rag wrapped around it closes over my mouth and my nose. In an instant, I’m knocked out once more.
I glance around the room I’m being held in. I haven’t been through all the rooms in Death’s house to know if that’s where he has taken me, though my gut tells me I’ve been here before. It’s dark and I can’t make out much other than I’m on a hard floor. I’m free to move other than my bound wrists. I have to be careful though. I don’t want to chance falling and injuring myself or doing something that may hurt my babies.
First, I need to get my hands free. To do that I need something to break the rope on or to cut it with.
One positive is I’m still dressed but I don’t have shoes on. I’ll need to be cautious not to step on anything that could cause me to trip or something worse.
I listen and hear nothing.
I realize my back is resting on something soft. I push up and get on my feet. Was I sitting against a couch?
Am I in Death’s living room? I reach out in front of me meeting air. I lift a foot and hit the couch. It isn’t leather. I recall him having a leather couch, but what if he brought me to the house that he shared with Belinda instead?
