“Yeah, go nuts,” he taunts, knowing I can’t move. I lay my head back on the chair’s headrest, trying to calm my temper. I still have to think of my unborn child; I can’t do anything to put her in danger.
“The Devil’s Dust doesn’t know the word ‘family’. When you were kidnapped, I was kicked to the curb like I was nothing. Like I hadn’t given the club everything I had and even after all that, Shadow was out to kill me. If it weren’t for a little birdy telling me, he would have. I am taking out every one of you Devil’s Dust and anyone associated. I’m going to rip the club apart from the outside in,” he informs, his tone not wavering as if what he is saying is completely normal.
“Why are you doing this if the club meant so much to you? Why hurt them?” I question.
“If I can’t be with my family, then nobody can,” Charlie explains, his tone confident. I bite my cheek and glare at him. Fucking with my family will mean dire consequences for Charlie.
“Oh, shit, look at that,” Charlie remarks, looking down at his hand. I follow his gaze and find a huge gash sliced across his palm.
“That babysitter was a hell of a fighter.” He looks at the front door which is barely open.
“She’ll bleed out eventually,” Charlie continues as he walks past me heading into the kitchen. I look around the room again, curious where Zane is hiding. Charlie said Zane would be dealt with, not that he was dealt with. Hope blossoms in the pit of my stomach, causing Delilah to give me a violent kick. Being as far along as I am, she doesn’t kick very much, running out of room and all. I wish I could put my hand on my belly, let her know Mommy is here. She must sense my unease.
“I see you’re pregnant again!” Charlie yells from the kitchen, his words holding a menacing energy which is making me tense.
I see movement from the front door, catching my attention. Please tell me Shadow is here to play alpha male. Strawberry-colored hair followed by a wide-eyed Cherry pokes through the door. My skin rises with goose bumps; she can go get help. I tilt my head toward the kitchen, showing her where Charlie is, letting her know it’s not safe. She nods and slowly walks in. I shake my head no, my mouth parting in disbelief; she needs to run, call for help. She tiptoes over to me and pulls a large pocket knife from her boot before she looks at me and winks. My eyes widen even more than before. How the hell does she walk around with that thing stuck in her boot?
“When I free you, run,” Cherry whispers, walking behind me. I feel the blade tug and grind on my restraints, cutting them. My heart picks up from the anticipation, and I bite my bottom lip.
“Come on, come on,” I silently chant, wanting her to get me out of these damn things faster.
I hear Cherry scream, making me clench in response. She walks in front of me where I can see her, the knife gripped tightly in her hand ready to strike Charlie. He strides forward quickly, grabbing Cherry by the wrist, and causing a struggle. Charlie and Cherry start wrestling, falling against the entertainment center, and tripping over toys on the floor, fighting over the knife in Cherry’s hand.
“Kick him in the nuts!” I yell at Cherry. If she can get a good shot in, it will give her an advantage. Charlie is much bigger than she is, giving him the upper hand. He lets go of Cherry’s hand holding the knife and quickly backhands her, the sound echoing through the room. She drops the knife and grabs at her face, cursing. While Cherry isn’t looking, he grabs her by the throat and flings her into the air as if she weighs nothing. She lands on top of an end table, making it collapse, its four legs sticking out on all sides.
“Shit!” I curse, trying to pry my wrists from the restraints, and my hands finally spring free. I bend down and pull on the twine around my feet and chair legs. I kick my legs out as far as I can and move them back and forth, rubbing the twine against the legs of the chair. I look up and see Charlie walking over to Cherry, the knife in his hands above his head ready to impale her.
I have to hurry, or he is going to kill her. I twist my ankles faster, the twine starting to fray and snap. Charlie laughs as he stands over Cherry’s motionless body.
I look back down at my restraints and kick my leg forward as hard as I can, snapping the remaining rope. I walk up behind Charlie, rear my leg back, and kick him the balls as hard as I can. He instantly wails in pain and grabs his junk.
I place my foot on what’s left of the end table and pull at a leg sticking out. I give it a violent tug, splitting the wood, and the leg breaks free from the collapsed table. I palm the wooden leg to get a better grip of it and walk toward Charlie.