Leo pulls out a knife from his pants pocket and cuts away Michael’s binds. When he’s freed, he stands awkwardly, favoring his left foot over his right. I suppose it’s not his face that got the brunt of it. Michael pulls the gag from his mouth and sucks in a desperate breath before saying, “About fucking time.”
Feet fall against the hardwood floors, sounding like a herd of charging buffalo. Leo reaches his arm out and shoves me behind him, drawing his gun at the open door. The first person through the door is Dad and then Uncle Jim, followed by Jeremy. Jeremy has another handgun, but the others all have what I think are AR-15s. They’re large and require two hands, too big to operate on a daily basis. Heavy firepower, that’s for sure.
“Let her go, or you get a bullet in your fucking skull, Scavo!” Dad shouts. His face is a dark red, and I can see veins popping out from over here. Michael stands on the other side of Leo and raises his arms in the air.
“She’s not a prisoner,” Leo says. “It seems you raised a woman skilled in hostile negotiations.”
“What the fuck did he just say?” Jeremy shouts.
Christ, this isn’t good, and it’s only going to get worse. Deep breath, Cheyenne. You can do this. I’ve made my proverbial bed, and now I can lie in it. Grounded. For the rest of my life. I really have to start thinking things through before acting. Dad doesn’t even like me to sneak his beer let alone make deals on behalf of his club. Shit, even he’s not allowed to do that.
I sidestep Leo, gun in hand, and turn my back to the club. I couldn’t see everybody who’s crowded in and behind the doorway, but I know it’s a mass. More than there were earlier, I’m sure.
“Give me the gun,” I say to Leo. “I gave you my word that I wouldn’t let them kill you.” To show him that I’m serious, I empty Jeremy’s gun of its bullets and toss them one direction and the gun the other, onto Ian’s bed.
“I give you my gun, I’m a dead man,” Leo says.
“You can’t show them you’re not a threat if you have the ability to hurt me,” I reply. “I’m going to need your knife, too.”
Michael finally speaks up and says, “She came willingly,” to the club and then to Leo, “Trust her.” When he finally hands over his piece and knife, I toss the knife on the floor, keeping the gun in my hand, and then turn to my dad.
“Leo could have killed me, but he didn’t. He just wants answers like we all do. I promised him you’d hear him out and we could see about a cease fire.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Uncle Jim says. Anger floods his expression, and he stomps forward, repositioning himself with his gun still on Leo. Dad moves to the side, allowing more men into the room. Behind Dad, Jeremy flanks Uncle Jim, followed by Wyatt and Bear, all inside the cramped space with their AR15s in hand.
“He saved my life,” I say again and move to stand in front of him.
“You can trust him,” Michael says with a nod to Uncle Jim. Something flashes in Jim’s eyes, and he lowers his weapon.
“I came here for answers, not a war,” Leo says. “All I ask is that you hear me out. I have some intel you’re going to need if you plan on making it out of this thing whole.”
But we’re not whole. We keep losing men, and women keep getting hurt, and everybody is afraid to go on living their lives. The rest of them can’t really leave because they are the club and have nothing outside of it. Some were born to it and some purposefully tied themselves to it. Maybe they can’t go, but I can. I can go to school and live my life. I can experience independence and see what life is like outside of this small town. Because I want experiences that don’t include guns, and death, and so much fear.
“Stand down,” Uncle Jim says. “Find a place to put the new guy.”
“Playing hostage wasn’t part of the deal,” Leo says.
I shrug my shoulders and sigh. “You didn’t barter for your choice in accommodations.”
It takes several minutes for all the men to lower their weapons.
Dad charges forward and knocks Michael out of the way, then shoves Leo into the open closet we just got Michael out of. Slamming the door shut, he says, “Fuck. Jim, I’m running out of places to put all the WOPs you keep adopting.”
“Blame your negotiations team for that,” Jim says and approaches Michael. His eyes slide to mine, and he smirks. I can’t tell if it’s a “Ruby is going to beat you” smirk or a “well done” smirk. He directs Michael into the living room with his pointer finger.
When I have Dad’s word that Leo won’t be harmed, I cross the room and rush into Jeremy’s arms. He sighs deeply and crushes me against his body. To my surprise, all the tears I thought I would cry dry up, and the urge to freak out disappears.
“I can’t stand to ever see you in danger again,” Jeremy says.
“I know.” He didn’t say it, but I know he’s thinking it. “I can’t stay.”
“No, you can’t. Not until this is over,” he whispers against my forehead.