Never expecting what he would say next.
“The first time I saw the reality of my world, I was eleven years old. It came out of the hands of Creed, and it was nothin’ compared to what I’ve seen and done, since. From an outsider’s perspective, he ain’t a man to be fucked with, much like our father. I can take them, but a little girl like you should think twice before pushin’ buttons and steppin’ on fuckin toes. Jesus Christ, just last week, Creed pulled the trigger on our pops for shits and giggles. Shooting him in the leg, then near his head, missin’. Just to prove a fuckin’ point.” He shrugged off my hands like what he told me was perfectly normal. “It’s a fucked up way of life, but we don’t know any different.” He brushed his calloused thumb across my cheek. “Be a good girl and stay put, Mia. It’s for your own good. I promise.”
With that he turned and left, leaving me with more questions than I had before.
I reluctantly left her in the living room with Noah. I hated seeing her so fucking upset, but there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. My hands were tied. This was how it had to be, end of fucking story. I was beyond exhausted, barely having slept since shit hit the fucking fan. Between worrying about Mia, and getting her here safely without anyone knowing our involvement, proved to be a pain in the fucking ass. Plus, dealing with the fallout of the shootings and her supposed kidnapping, it seemed to be one thing after a fucking another.
Not to mention Martinez was fucking gunned down, murdered at his place in New York around the same day as the shootout. It was just another reason why we had to put Mia into hiding. Nothing made fucking sense.
It took less than twenty-four hours for Noah and me to be taken into custody by Detective McGraw. Mia’s mom and dad were there, along with her aunt and uncle. Her mom sat in a chair, hysterically crying, sorting through pictures to give to the police. While her aunt tried to comfort her the best she could. Her dad spotted us as we walked past them, lunging at the glass window, screaming obscenities. Calling us every name in the book as her uncle held him back. It took everything in me not to fucking flip him off. Knowing they were hurting, too.
We were questioned for hours on end about our connection with her disappearance. McGraw even got a warrant to search our house and the clubhouse, coming up empty. The fucking pigs ripped our compound apart trying to find her. At the time, I already had her moved. She was hiding out with Ma and Doc at his place, further south. Accompanied by a few brothers, watching their every move.
Each member of the MC was taken into custody for questioning, including our old man. It wasn’t any different from any other time they called us into the station, needing answers.
Mia was mine.
Which meant she was family.
And we protected our own.
McGraw probably knew we were full of shit, but couldn’t prove we were guilty without any fucking evidence. If there was one thing our MC knew how to do well, it was cover our tracks. Our only saving grace was the fact that Mia didn’t tell her parents she was coming over to our house that evening. Before anyone realized Mia was missing, a few brothers waited till dusk and drove her Jeep to the nearest train station. Leaving it in the overnight, unguarded parking lot. The same tracks I spent most of my adolescence at, daydreaming of running away.
The irony was not fucking lost on me.
I hoped that staging her car at the station would provide her family with some peace of mind. That maybe Mia didn’t get kidnapped, but she ran away on her own. The brothers were extra cautious, making sure they didn’t leave behind any fingerprints or DNA behind that could jeopardize our club. Destroying her cell phone so it couldn’t be tracked, discarding anything that pointed fingers to Devil’s Rejects. Our involvement with her disappearance needed to stay non-existent.
It didn’t matter, though, none of it did. Her old man and his boys were tearing apart Oak Island trying to find her. Not that I could blame them, I would have been doing the same fucking shit if I hadn’t found her first.
I heard Mia’s soft, subtle footsteps descending down the hall. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t shocked as shit when she knocked on my bedroom door. Opening it shortly after. I didn’t pay her any mind, staring at the muted television while she watched me from the doorframe. Staying as far away from me as possible.
I wanted to touch her, pull her into my lap, and never fucking let her go. But I allowed her the distance for the time being, knowing she was pissed at me. Her guard securely in place for the first time since I met her, where it should have been all along. Instead, she was now tainted by my life, exactly the way I never wanted her to be.
It was too late for that now and there was no going back for either of us. This was our life.
I took a few more swigs from the bottle of Jack and placed it back on the nightstand, gearing to stitch up my leg. Grabbing the first aid kit the doc left behind for us, I threaded the nylon through the needle hole. Taking a lighter to the end to sterilize it.
Mia gasped when I punctured my injured skin, causing me to look back up at her with a questioning regard. She bit her lip for a few seconds, clearly struggling with an internal battle, evident on her face. She suddenly moved one foot in front of the other, making her way over to me in three strides. Wanting to get to me as quickly as possible, just in case she changed her mind.
“You’re doing it all wrong,” she muttered, sitting beside me on the bed, taking the needle out of my hand.
“You know a lot about stitchin’ up stab wounds, Pippin?” I teased, reaching up to lazily twirl a strand of hair around my finger.
She rolled her eyes, pulling her head away. “My papa is a doctor. I’ve seen him stitch up Mason and Bo in our house, more times than I care to remember.”
I nodded, leaning back against the headboard. Thankful as fuck I didn’t have to do this on my own.
Her face frowned, thinking about her family. She was too wound up before, needing answers from me on what was going on, to remember them. It was funny what the mind was capable of doing when put under a strenuous situation. Mia was no different.
I swept the hair away from her face, grabbing hold of her chin to look at me.
Her breathing hitched. “They don’t know where I am, do they?” she whispered loud enough for me to hear. A pained expression crossed her face.
I shook my head no.
She grimaced, even though my response was expected.
“It’s for your own good. And theirs,” I coaxed, knowing it wouldn’t do any damn good.
“They must be freaking out. I can’t even imagine what they’re going through. My momma has to be worried sick. Mason is deployed with no word on his safety, and now this. Her poor heart is breaking, Creed.”
I just sat there, looking at her not knowing what else to say.