He'd made himself deadly clear. It took a lot of makeup and even more aspirin to cover up the blow to my head.
Then I'd gotten in my car and driven, non-stop with Alex, stopping only for gas. We checked into the hotel this morning, where I fed him and let him nap, before finding the closest babysitter.
If Hatch were a reasonable man, I would've moaned about how much this was taking out of my pocket. Naturally, I didn't say a word, fearing what would happen if I so much as asked for a penny.
Everything was going down, down, down.
My life. My bank account. My poor, sweet baby's future, handed off to strangers while I pleaded with a man who thought nothing about shredding my heart for the second time.
I picked up Alex at the little daycare in town, ignoring the dumbfounded looks from all the women, wondering how I'd gotten smeared with mud. Then we headed back to our room, where I took a long, hot shower, ignoring the hunger pangs ripping at my stomach.
Joker wouldn't leave my head. I couldn't get over the contrast, the change in the man I once knew. Where had he gone?
He'd been replaced with a killer robot wearing his skin.
His gorgeous hazel eyes didn't shine anymore. They just glowed like dull stones, dead and cold to everything they saw.
That tragic night three years past killed both the Taylor boys – just one less literally. Joker walked the earth and rode his bike like a shell, lost to his humanity, his love, and me.
Before, he'd been a deadly angel with a beautiful soul underneath.
Today, he'd looked just as handsome as before – maybe more so with the extra edges and tiny scars the last three years had given him – but now there was nothing underneath except ugliness.
Watching the last few bits of grime and soap disappear down the drain, I turned the nozzle, only to hear the damned phone I'd left in my jeans vibrating.
Sighing, I stepped out of the shower and started toweling myself off while I reached for it. “Yeah?”
“How'd it go, bitch? You were supposed to check in.”
An evil chill swept up my spine. Hatch's voice had that effect, just pure, vicious poison. My battered temple throbbed, remembering how he'd knocked me out cold.
“Not well,” I said. There wasn't any point in lying. “It's going to be tough to find out anything. He doesn't want to talk to me.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. I could practically see his nasty, leathery face pausing to take a long drag on a cigarette. His mismatched eyes must've trembled with rage.
“You're gonna do better, Summer-Bummer, or you're gonna get your fuckin' guts hanging on a clothesline, mixed with the kiddo's. Quit fucking around. We're paying for your room. Wasting the club's good money.”
Fuck you, fuck your money, and fuck your club, I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue. Tasted blood.
“I'll try again. Give me another day or two. I'll find out where he goes, follow him, try to pin him down somewhere outside the clubhouse.”
“Yeah,” he said calmly. “You will. Because if you don't –“
“Hatch, please!” I flattened my hand against the wall, propping myself up so I wouldn't pass out. “I know what you'll do. I don't need another reminder.”
“Good. 'Cause if you fuck us over, you little fuckin' skank, what's coming ain't just talk. It's blood. You've got three days to drain him dry before we drain your skin in the nearest ditch.”
The line went dead. I closed the phone and angrily threw it down on my clothes, promising myself I wouldn't let him set off another chain reaction of ugly crying.
I couldn't fight this hellish noose he'd slipped over me. But I could control my own reactions. Getting upset about his sickening threats wouldn't do anything to keep Alex safe.
And that was the only reason I was here. After today, there was no other reason.
*
“Mama!” Little Alex sat on my lap with some stupid kid's show on the background, tugging at the bottle.
“Sorry, little man. Here you go.” I helped put the tiny juice bottle up to his lips, watching while he took it.
He sucked his sweet drink without a care in the world. For a second, I wished I'd brought along something a whole lot stronger for me to drink,, but that wouldn't do me any favors either.
You can't give up, I told myself quietly. Look at him. You're his mom, for Christ's sake. His everything. The only defense against these sick bastards he's got.
My baby slurped the apple drink, staring up at me the whole time, his eyes as big and bright as his father's used to be. They were the same color.
I wouldn't let that fire in his little eyes go out. I'd keep him safe, keep him alive, and I'd damned sure keep him happy. He was too young to see me killed over nothing, this biker nonsense.
Leaning down, I kissed his head, and thought about how I'd make good on the lofty promises in my heart. It didn't come to me until after midnight, when I sat awake in bed, watching him turn around in the tiny play pen I'd set up.