“I GUESS WE WILL SEE WHERE Zeek’s head is at. Does he bring me the money, or try and save his woman and kid and die in the process?”
I close my eyes, not wanting to hear his voice anymore. Most women who find out they’re pregnant are pacing in their bathrooms, their significant other worrying their hands in the other room. The idea of parenting scaring them, as they wonder if they will survive the struggles ahead.
I’ve been kidnapped, and was just forced by gunpoint to piss on a pregnancy test, which will be used to walk the father of my unborn child into a death trap.
The turmoil and burning path that Zeek and I walk along will never fail as long as we are together.
“Doesn’t matter, does it? In the end we’re going to kill them both.” Cross laughs.
Frank rubs at his tie. “Not if Zeek complies. The deal was he has to return to the club and be under my thumb. I can’t keep those animals in line, and do the business side of things, too. I need someone with some brains to run the club.”
“Hello,” Cross waves his hand. “I could have saved you a lot of fucking trouble, you could have just put me in charge.”
Frank sighs and rolls his eyes. “That will never happen. You can’t even keep a level head if I’m not standing over you. You’d have the club in a blood bath, every connection the club has would be severed. You’re where you’re supposed to be.”
“And what about her? You killing her?” Cross juts his chin toward me.
Frank’s hand slowly moves up, and I watch as he rubs his chin, his eyes raking over me. “Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know yet.” He turns on an exhale. “I’m going to lie down before Zeek shows up, keep an eye on her. I don’t care how you do it, just do it.” Frank yanks on his tie again and heads toward the elevator.
“Oh, that’ll be my pleasure.” Cross chuckles, his eyes sweeping up and down my body. I grimace, and look the other way. I focus on a vase with fake flowers, trying to calm my rapid heartbeat. The need to break down, give up, and cry is overwhelming.
I need to figure out a way out of here.
“Tell me, how does it feel to be harboring the DNA of a man who killed your father?” Cross jabs.
“Tell me, how does it feel to be nothing more than the dog of the Outlaws?” I rebuttal. His face falls as he grits his teeth and then he marches over with haste. I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing, his stubby legs reminding me of Mr. Potato Head walking. His hands sink into my hair, yanking hard. My humor flees as I whimper with pain.
“I’m going to enjoy ripping you apart.” Lips brush against the shell of my ear. He throws my head forward, the muscles in my neck tensing painfully. “Including that bastard baby.”
My body strikes with adrenaline, my heart thumping madly in my chest. My eyes burn to cry, but I fight it. I don’t want him to see how badly he affects me.
I won’t break. I’m strong.
“Then again, I think caging you in a basement until you pop that child out would be best. Then we can condition the kid—make him, or her, into an animal like the father. But better. One who obeys and knows his or her place.”
I stare blankly ahead, my mind not really anywhere at the moment. I’d rather die with this baby then ever let that happen.
Images of Zeek’s face before he kills fill my mind. That hollow look, the way Zeek doesn’t think he’s capable of love or being loved all portrayed on our child’s face flare behind my eyes.
I don’t want that for Zeek, and I sure as hell don’t want that for a child of mine. My limbs become antsy, my lungs burning to release an emotional scream.
“An outlaw’s blood, mixed with a sheriff’s. That kid of yours would exhibit some incredible skills.” Cross plops on the couch, his arms outstretched along the back. “Yeah, I guarantee Frank would be on board with that.” He lowers his head, his eyes hooded. “So it looks like you won’t be taking the easy way out.”
I scream a blood curdling, face reddening, all I have scream. Crying hysterically to the point I can’t even see straight.
Cross laughs in response to my anguish, hurt, and pain.
I’m breaking.
But even as the thought passes through my brain, I know it’s not true. I’m not breaking. It’s too late for that.
I’m already broken.
Zeek
GETTING READY TO HEAD BACK to Vegas I decide to call Felix and give him the heads up, find out if he’s seen Jillian.
“Hello?”
“I’m headed back to Vegas now.”
“About time,” Felix whispers. “You get the Devils to help you take the club back?”
I swallow, my head throbbing like someone is pounding a fucking drum in there. Looking at Lip I rub at my forehead with my freehand.
“Yeah, about that. Frank gave me an ultimatum, take the shipment of money from the Mafia and he’ll let Jillian go.” The phone goes silent.
“But?” Felix knows there’s more. He knows Uncle Frank just as well as I do.