Absolution (Road Kings MC And Underworlds Book 1), page 16
It would have been a plausible excuse four weeks ago, but there was more to it than that. Hunter had been spending a lot of time with us since she’d arrived, more than usual, and you’d have had to have been blind to miss the looks thrown between them.
He watched every move she made, and constantly tried to start conversations with her, but Lena only answered with one or two-word answers, and went out of her way to avoid him as much as she could.
Just then, the front door opened, and my brother walked in, his eyes going straight to my best friend.
Knowing I wasn’t going to get far asking questions, I decided to see if I could provoke some answers. I knew just how to do it.
I might have been kept out of the MC and the goings-on in it, but I’d seen him with enough women to know he didn’t usually give a shit what happened to them. They were there for the fun that helped the guys de-stress, and that was it.
Maybe that sounded bad, and I didn’t like it myself, but I wasn’t stupid. They did things that would make a normal man crumble, so when they were home, they used that time to remove the weights from their shoulders as much as they could.
I’d also met some USAF guys when I was in Florida who’d displayed the same stress-busting techniques, so labeling it as MC guys just being dogs wasn’t right. If it was consensual—and it always was—maybe both parties were using each other to chase away the specters of life?
If he reacted to what I was about to do, there was definitely more to this than she was letting on. I didn’t need to know the details, but I cared about both of them. If your own love life was shit like mine, fixing someone else’s would be rewarding. I’d hashed and rehashed everything between Taras and me with Lena, and I could relax now and get into the swing of co-parenting with him, but I never allowed myself to do it when his attention was on me.
So maybe I could live vicariously between these two? I wanted to see them both happy and with someone who loved them, and what better way than with each other.
“You know,” I said to him, not even saying hi first. “I’m starting to think I don’t exist, and that all the guys come over here just to see Lena. There was a time when people would say ‘hi, Nell’ when they walked through my door, now all they do is look right at her.”
Seeing him grinding his teeth together, I looked back over at my best friend. “Is it like this when you’re modeling?”
Because she had her back to the door still, she didn’t know Hunter was in the room with us, so her answer wasn’t said to make him jealous.
“I doubt they come here to see me, but the attention when you’re modeling lacy bras and panties is definitely worse. Most of them probably look at me when they come in because they’ve seen the photos, Nell.”
“It more than likely isn’t helped by the advertising boards with photos of you on them all over the country, either.”
“True that,” she chuckled, bending over to pick up the pile of towels, before looking over her shoulder at me, and pausing when she saw Hunter standing behind me. “I’ll… just go put these away.”
I waited until she’d rounded the corner and was walking down the hallway to the linen cupboard, before I asked Hunter innocently, “Have you seen any of the photos? If not, you’ve got to.”
I wasn’t lying when I said that, seeing as how Lena’s beauty had to be seen to be believed. And it wasn’t the underwear that drew all of the attention, like she thought.
She was tall but curvy, and had a full sleeve of tattoos on her left arm, all done in bright colors. It was all feminine things like flowers, with wisps of what looked like smoke joining them all together, which she’d had done in pink instead of the standard choice of gray.
From right under her left breast to the middle of her thigh was an extension of the design, but it only had bursts of color here and there, like she was highlighting specific details.
With her long brunette hair that fell to just above her butt, she looked badass, but overwhelmingly feminine, too.
In a world full of eating disorders, beauty treatments, surgical enhancements and fixings, and whatever else, she was the real deal, inside and out.
“Yeah,” Hunter muttered, walking over and looking down at the boys, who were asleep in their swaying swing seats. Whoever had invented those things was a genius, especially if you had more than one baby who needed to be settled. “How are they doing today?”
“They’re great as always. Didn’t wake up through the night and slept in until six-thirty. Then they spent the day sleeping, pooping, and eating,” I added, picking up a pile of clothes to take through to my room, while I watched him look from Walker to the doorway Lena would come back through when she was done. “So, how do you know Lena?”
Glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, Hunter frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “We—”
Whatever he was about to say was cut off by shouting outside the house, followed by the screeching of tires.
Pulling his gun out from under his cut, Hunter was walking over to the front door, when it felt like the house just exploded, piece by piece at a time, as what sounded like multiple guns opened fire.
I didn’t think about anything but protecting the boys, so I pulled their swings behind the couch, hoping the padding would protect us from the bullets.
“Get to the space,” he roared over the noise, just as Lena dropped down beside me, her breaths coming in frantic pants.
To get to the small cupboard beside the kitchen, we’d have to run across the room to the doorway, though. With bullets coming through like they were, I couldn’t see how we’d make it without getting hit.
“It’s too risky,” I whispered, just as three bullets hit the other arm of the couch, making it move with the impact of each one.
Grabbing my hand, Lena squeezed it tightly. “We’ve got to do it. Put Hendrix inside your hoodie and zip it up over his head, and I’ll do the same with Walker. When you get up, keep your body bent over and your arm up like this,” she angled her arm close to her chest, like she was wrapping it up and over a baby.
“If it gets too much, drop down behind the recliner, and we’ll reassess. But we’ve got to get to that space in case someone gets in.”
Knowing she was right, I unclipped Hendrix and placed him inside my hoodie, reaching back for his pacifier and blanket. “Don’t forget Walker’s binky. It’ll keep him quiet if he wakes up.”
How they were sleeping through the noise, I didn’t know, but aside from some squeaking as they were both relocated inside our hoodies, they stayed blissfully unaware. Holding my hand, Lena got up into a crouch, and motioned at me to do the same.
“On the count of three. One, two, three—”
I didn’t even have to force myself to run, it just happened naturally, the arm on the side the bullets were coming from protecting the baby, and the other around his back holding him safely against me.
Making it safely past the recliner, it wasn’t until we got to the doorway that we even came close to a bullet, as one whipped in front of my face, hitting the wall an inch in front of Lena’s head.
Ducking down even more, we managed to make it to the hallway, and ran toward the small cupboard door.
Pulling it open, the two of us crawled inside it and down into the corner where Taras’ men had put armored plates around, only two weeks ago. There wasn’t one in front of us, but the cupboard went far enough into the walk-in closet in the spare room, that only having the plates on either side and behind us would be enough.
The door had one, too, and they’d added a lock that, from the outside, looked like it was padlocked shut. Because this was a make-do panic room, there was also a small camera in one of the decorative hinges, and a monitor showing the feed from it was next to us.
Turning it on, all we could see was the empty area in front of the door, but not what was going on farther outside.
“That’s no fucking help,” Lena hissed, pressing buttons to see if any other feeds were viewable, while she pulled a gun out of the waistband of her pants.
I needed to start carrying. I wasn’t sure if this was related to The Road Kings or Taras and his family, but now that I had the boys, I needed to make sure I was ready for anything. That was the whole point of being taught how to shoot, so why hadn’t I made sure I was prepared for anything? I’d been near a bomb just over a month ago, for Christ’s sake, hadn’t I learned from that?
My phone ringing made both of us jump, and I shoved my hand quickly into my pocket to turn off the ringer before checking who it was.
Hitting the screen, I heard him shouting before I could say anything.
“Stay in there with the boys, we’re on our way!”
I didn’t say anything back because, right then, something hit the wall next to where we were.
Lowering my phone, I turned the volume on it down, so that if anyone was nearby, they wouldn’t hear him talking, including myself. But he’d be able to listen to my end.
Then I angled my body as far away from the entrance to the space as I could while I typed out a text to him, hunching my body to protect Hendrix, and trying to block the glow from from going through any gaps in the door.
Me: Someone is near us, so I can’t talk. The phone is on so you can hear, but we need to text.
It didn’t take long for him to reply.
Taras: That’s smart, baby. Are you or the boys hurt?
Me: No, we’re safe with Lena. Hunter’s out there on his own.
Taras: He’s fine.
I was just typing back a response, when all of the noise outside stopped, and it was then I realized that silence could be more frightening than the sound of the guns.
There were only about three inches between us, but Lena closed the small distance and leaned into my side, whispering so quietly, that I had to strain to hear what she was saying.
“What’s happening?”
The only noises we could hear now were the boys sucking on their pacifiers, which sounded terrifying loud.
“I don’t know,” I croaked, wondering if the noises coming from them would be audible through the door. It wasn’t possible to make them do it more quietly, and if we took them away, we ran the risk of them crying instead.
Both of us leaned slightly forward in the direction of the door, straining to hear anything we could. As the silence drew on, so did the fear.
Then we heard the footsteps, ones belonging to at least three people running toward where we were, followed by a gentle knocking on the door.
Lena nudged me with her elbow, and held her finger up to her lips, telling me to stay quiet until we knew who was on the other side. The monitor attached to the security feed on the other side had gone to sleep, so she touched it to wake it up. When we saw Taras, Hunter, and Dad on the screen, the tension left our bodies immediately.
Well, that was until I saw Taras’ father walk up behind them, looking far from his usually immaculate self.
With one arm supporting the babies, we crawled forward until we got to the door, and unlocked it using the security pad inside. It was a basic panic room, but it did the job—something we realized even more when we saw the bullet holes on the other side of the wall, right where we’d been sitting.
As soon as I straightened, Taras pulled me into him, and then jerked back when he felt the lump under my hoodie.
“We didn’t know what else to do with them, so we hid the babies like this,” I explained, carefully unzipping my top to show him Hendrix, who now had his eyes open and was looking around.
Glancing at Lena, I saw her doing the same thing with Walker, grinning when she found him still fast asleep.
“Thank Christ,” Taras rasped at the same time as the others.
Moving over to us from where he’d been standing next to the doorway, Bogdan peered in at Hendrix, grinning down at him.
He’d been to see them both many times since we’d been home, so it was getting more comfortable to have him near the boys. But it felt like something had changed with the way he was acting right now.
“Hey, varobushek,” he murmured, running the tip of his finger gently down Hendrix’s cheek, while Taras took Walker from Lena. “You and your brother are brave boys.”
Tilting my head to the side, I thought through all the Russian words I’d learned over the last year, but this one wasn’t familiar. “What does that mean?”
Instead of answering me, he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, resting his forehead against the side of my head for a second before lifting it back up again.
“May I hold him?”
Turning so he could take him, I watched as Taras held Walker close, his eyes closing briefly with relief, while Dad and Hunter spoke quietly to Lena.
Once Hendrix was situated close to his chest, Bogdan murmured, “It means little sparrow. I used to call Taras and Dmitri varobushek when they were small, too.
“Sparrows are smart, and they symbolize vigilance and wisdom, something these boys have shown today. They also symbolize joy, and they both bring the people who love them a lot of that, just like my own sons do.”
The explanation meant more to me than I could put into words. I’d never thought of sparrows like that, but I loved his reasons for the nickname, and that it was the same one he’d given their dad when he was a kid.
“I like that,” I said quietly, lifting my hand to stroke Walker’s head when Taras stopped beside me. “Varobushek.”
One side of Taras’s mouth tilted up at the name. “I see you’ve been telling her stories, Dad.”
“Uh, I hate to be the one to break up the cute shit, but what in the fuck is going on?” Lena asked, taking a step away from Hunter when he went to put his arm around her. “No, don’t touch me. I don’t care that we just got shot at, you don’t get to do that.”
Blowing out a breath, Dad shook his head as he looked at the wall separating us from the living room. What I was seeing didn’t initially make sense, until I realized that the bullets had gone through that wall, and then stopped when they’d hit the one where we’d been hiding.
Looking at what Dad was, Bogdan’s expression became grim. “I understand the need to discuss it, but we don’t know if there are more incoming, and we’re too open here. The safest place for the women and boys is at one of the houses, so we need to move.”
Knowing he was right, I started to go to the nursery. “I need to get their things—"
Gently grabbing my arm, Taras stopped me before I could take the first step, though. “No, malysh, we need to leave now. I have duplicates of everything at my house, and we’ll be safer there.”
A voice yelling in Russian from the front of the house made both me and Lena jump, but whatever was said had both Fedorov men hustling.
“We’ve got to go,” Bogdan said to Dad and Hunter. “They’re holding off another four vehicles two minutes away from here.”
Bursting into action, he handed Hendrix back to me as Taras gave Walker to Lena, then we were moved quickly through the living room, with their big bodies shielding us. Through the small gaps, though, I managed to see some of the devastation to my home.
I couldn’t stop to think about it. If I did, I’d break down.
As we passed the mess of my couch, I shoved a hand between Taras and Dad, to grab up the baby book I was constantly updating. I didn’t have one, and I’d have loved to have known my milestones from when I was a baby, so I was determined not to miss out on even one for the boys. And, regardless of the mess of everything else in my home, the book miraculously hadn’t been hit.
“We don’t have time, Nell,” Dad growled, carefully nudging me forward again.
“It’s all I need, I promise.”
And that wasn’t a lie. They were all safe, and I hadn’t lost the book. That was all I needed, because I had everything that was important right here.
Our movement paused as we got to the door, but then the group split into two, with Hunter leading Lena and Walker to one vehicle, and Taras taking me to the other.
“What about Walker?” I asked, feeling real panic at the prospect of being separated from him.
“We need to split ourselves into smaller targets, moye serdste. Lena has Hunter next to her, along with Dad and his men, to keep them safe. He won’t let anything happen to either of them, I promise,” Taras said as he helped me into the back of his vehicle.
Simeon and Zoran were standing guard beside it, their weapons in their hands and their focus on the surrounding area. Yakov was behind the wheel, his expression grim as I sat down.
Twisting down to make sure I was settled, he focused on the little boy in my arms. “Hold onto the baby, Penny. We don’t have time for the car seat.”
The prospect of breaking any of the rules that’d been hammered into me by the books and the nurses at the hospital made me feel sick. Babies had to be placed safely in a protective seat, regardless of how far you were driving.
“It’s okay, Nell. Yakov won’t let anything happen while he’s driving,” Taras tried to reassure me, but it fell on deaf ears.
As Simeon and Zoran got into the vehicle, one in the front and one in the back, I wrapped my arms around Hendrix and breathed him in. I’d never believed that babies had a special smell to them that wasn’t based on poop and spit-up, but my boys definitely did. And at that moment, it calmed me better than even a bottle of whiskey probably would’ve.
I was aware of Yakov saying something in the front, but I kept my eyes shut as we drove quickly through the streets, praying we wouldn’t get into an accident.
After a while, I felt Taras’ eyes watching me, so I turned and lightly rested my cheek on top of Hendrix’s head, and opened my eyes.
“I can’t believe he’s sleeping through all of this,” he murmured, gently skimming his fingertip over the top of the baby’s head.
“He’s a chilled baby.”
“Unfortunately for the other vehicle,” Simeon said from behind us in the trunk. “His brother is not quite as chilled.”
The prospect of Bogdan and Hunter trying to calm Walker down made all of us smile, an expression that was totally at odds with how fucked up our situation currently was. How could any of us find anything funny after what’d just happened?
