Craving Absolution Page 18

So far we hadn’t heard anything from the boys we’d left down south, which meant dick in the larger scheme of things, but still made us feel like we’d gotten away clean.

  The boys hadn’t had any problems giving up their phones, but I’d stayed completely out of those conversations and kept mine hidden in my pocket. I was still a prospect, no matter how trusted I was, and I knew if I tried to tell the patched-in members what to do, they would have balked for that reason alone. I didn’t want to be the cause of someone getting killed because they were too stubborn to listen to someone they didn’t respect, or refused to give up theirs if I wasn’t giving up mine. Didn’t matter that I was supposed to have mine and they weren’t; I was still just a prospect to them.

  “Doc, you got everything you need if shit goes south?” Slider asked quietly as we walked up to the window of the Jeep he and Smokey were riding in.

  “Fuck, Slider.” Doc shook his head. “It’s not like I’m driving a fuckin’ ambulance here, but I can probably patch some shit up if I need to.”

  “All I can ask for,” Slider assured him. “You and Smokey stay here and wait for my call.”

  We made our way around to all the vehicles, speaking quietly as Slider gave directions for the—what the hell was it? Assault? I guess that was as good a word as any. Fuck, I hoped that they didn’t see us coming. I wasn’t trained for this shit.

  When we reached Poet and Grease, I left Slider by Poet’s window and walked around to where Grease was smoking on the passenger side.

  “You ready, little brother?” he asked.

  “Guess so.”

  “You’ll do all right,” he told me with a nod. “Follow Slider and keep your eyes open.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Usually have Tommy at my back, feels fuckin’ weird that he ain’t here.” He took a deep inhale of the cigarette. “Know we couldn’t bring him, the man’s a loose fuckin’ cannon, but shit if it don’t feel off.”

  “Hopefully he’s watching over the women and not drunk off his ass,” I replied.

  “No shit.”

  “If something happens—”

  “Don’t,” he said, cutting me off. “You don’t have to ask me that shit, and if you go into this with your head in Eugene, you’re a fuckin’ dead man.”

  “Fuck,” I mumbled.

  “Looks like Slider’s loading up, better get to your rig. Feels fuckin’ off not being on my bike. This whole fuckin’ thing feels off.”

  I tapped the hood of the car as I started around it, but before I could climb back into the van, I heard Grease calling out behind me.

  “Head down, little brother.”

  “You too,” I called back.

  The warehouses were less than a mile away from where we’d met up, and before I knew it we were parking in a shitty little strip mall only a block away from the front gates. The night had grown dark, and as we climbed out of our rigs, I couldn’t shake the feeling of someone watching us.

  Jesus Christ.

  “You feel that?” Slider asked quietly.

  “Yeah,” I mumbled back.

  If it hadn’t been so dark, I doubt we would have seen anything. We would have walked into a goddamn trap.

  “The fuck?” Slider hissed before moving quicker than any man I’d ever seen. His knife was out and sliding into Ramon’s lower back before I could even process what was happening. As Ramon’s phone dropped to the ground, the screen lit up his face, and I had to look away from the desperation there.

  Fuck. Fuck.

  “The fuck is wrong with you?” Slider asked, holding Ramon up by his hair as the rest of the men came running.

  “Daughter’s at the University of Portland,” Ramon rasped. “Didn’t have a choice.”

  “You had a choice, motherfucker,” Slider growled back. “Casper, he get that text out?”

  I grabbed the phone off the ground and scrolled through the still open screen to find that he’d only typed out a few words but hadn’t sent it yet. I looked through his history, shaking my head in defeat.

  “He’s lucky Tommy didn’t find this shit,” I mumbled under my breath, then answered Slider. “Nah, nothing tonight. We’re good.”

  “I’ll take care of your family,” Poet told Ramon quietly. “Though you sure as fuck don’t deserve it.”

  Ramon gave a thankful nod, his entire body going slack in resignation. The lack of resistance or fight surprised the shit out of me. I doubted I’d be so fucking calm in his situation, but I also knew he must have balls of steel if he was willing to betray the club and then spend months acting as if he weren’t.

  Slider pulled the knife out of his back with a hard jerk, and I felt the urge to vomit and had to look away as he used it to cut Ramon’s throat. His gaze never left Ramon’s and though his face was emotionless, the betrayal and remorse in Slider’s eyes was hard to miss. He didn’t want to do it. He had to.

  We stripped Ramon of weapons and ID, and then carried his body through the hole I’d cut in the fence over a week before, leaving him just inside. We’d grab him on our way out and take him back to Eugene with us if we could, but I knew we couldn’t just leave him in the van for anyone to find. The entire situation had me in a cold sweat, and by the time we’d taken up position to take out the guards at the exits of the warehouses, I could feel it trickling down my back.

  The first guards had to go down quietly so they wouldn’t sound an alarm, so Poet, Grease, Dragon, Samson, and Slider took care of those on their own. I was okay with a gun, but I was glad as fuck that I wasn’t expected to do those outside guards. Killing a man with a knife wasn’t something I looked forward to.

  As our group moved through the warehouse with the living quarters, I was surprised at how quiet it was. There were rows and rows of pallets wrapped in plastic filling the area, but no more guards or workers in sight. It was fucking eerie.

  There was a TV on upstairs, and we heard it as we hit the first landing, walking as quietly as we could across the metal walkway. I had the unwelcome thought that I really hoped it wasn’t one of those kid shows that Will watched. Fuck. There had been no indication whatsoever that the McCaffertys had kids. I didn’t know why it was messing with my head so bad.

  After all the preparation, stepping into the brothers’ living room was pretty fucking anticlimactic. If the way they sat in their recliners in their underwear were any indication, we shouldn’t have worried that they knew we were coming. They didn’t even notice us at first, they were so fucking toasted from their own supply.

  Slider and Dragon raised their guns and set them at the back of their necks at the same time.

  “You don’t fuck with family,” Slider whispered, his voice making me shudder.

  They startled and began to rise, but before they’d gotten more than an inch from their seats, the sounds of simultaneous gunshots had blasted through the room.

  They hadn’t given the brothers any time to plead their case or reach for the pieces I could see tucked down near the arms of their chairs. It was finally over. Thank Christ.

  The other men were standing near the door watching Dragon and Slider, looking relieved that we’d finished what we came for, and none of the dumb assholes were watching the back hallway.

  I saw her standing there in the dark an instant before Slider did and moved to call out, but before I could, her gun was in the air and pointed toward us. The sound of gunshots filled the room again and I couldn’t even look at Slider as he was hit in the thigh and dropped beside me. My eyes were filled with the beautiful woman in front of me who’d dropped her gun and was using her hands to try to stem the blood running from the hole in her chest.

  The hole I’d put there.

  “Shit!” Dragon hissed, unbuckling his belt as he dropped down next to Slider.

  I was frozen, staring at the woman as she dropped to her knees.

  “Carmella?” Samson asked, his face drawn in confusion.

  “Oh, fuck no.” Slider groaned from the floor beside me. “
What the fuck were you thinking, sweetheart?”

  My mind raced with questions, but I couldn’t make a sound as I watched her slump against the wall. What the hell had just happened? Who was she? Shit! Who the fuck had I just shot?

  The rest of the men poured into the doorway, their relief palpable until they took in Slider and the woman on the floor. I stumbled to the side and braced my forearm against the wall, as looks of confusion and horror crossed the normally emotionless men’s faces.

  What the hell had I done?

  Chapter 31

  Farrah

  I got to my feet shakily, keeping the quilt wrapped firmly around me as I faced the corner of the house. I couldn’t see anything at first, but within seconds a familiar shape stepped into the light and I felt my shoulders slump. Cody, thank God.

  “Hey, Ladybug,” he called out. He looked exhausted as he walked toward me. “Time to go home.”

  My feet flew across the scarred wooden porch as his steps sped up, and within seconds his arms were tight around me, his face in my neck.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his head, holding him against me, and he shuddered.

  “What’s wrong, handsome?” I asked.

  “Need to get you home, baby,” he answered gently, rearing back against my arms so he could look me in the eye. He let go of my waist before I was ready, and his entire body was jittery as he ran his hands over his head.

  I stumbled as he suddenly grabbed my hand and started towing me toward the back door, grabbing the quilt as we passed it. “What’s going on? What’s the hurry?”

  “Slider’s asking for you.”

  I dug my heels into the worn linoleum as we reached the kitchen, jerking my hand out of his.

  “And?” I asked, crossing my arms as he turned to face me.

  Gram and Lily stood from the table as we reached it, their eyes filled with a mixture of relief and concern as Cody and I stared at each other.

  “Farrah.” He paused, a large sigh lifting his chest. “Got shit taken care of, but we had some problems.”

  My heart started racing, but I tried to keep any trace of concern from my face. I didn’t care what happened to Slider. I hated him—no, that wasn’t right—I was indifferent. Yeah, that was better. He didn’t matter to me at all. He was a sperm donor.

  I couldn’t help swallowing hard as they watched me.

  “You’re okay? Grease is okay?” I asked, lifting my chin.

  “Yeah, Ladybug. We’re good.”

  “Then I’ve got no reason to leave. I need to pack and spend some time with Lily before I can go anywhere.”

  Cody made a frustrated sound in his throat, almost a growl, and my chin lifted even further.

  “I can get your things, Farrah,” Gram said.

  “I’ll be up next week and we can have a nice visit,” Lily said at the same time.

  My head jerked toward them, betrayal washing through me. They might as well have just kicked me out, but both of their faces were wreathed in concern as they looked between Cody and me. Gram’s hand had lifted to her mouth, rubbing at her bottom lip in a nervous gesture I was familiar with, and my stomach sank.

  “What? Is Slider dying or something?” I asked flatly.

  My words must have hit some trigger that I hadn’t known existed, because Cody snapped.

  “Get the fuck upstairs and get dressed!” he shouted, making me flinch as he leaned into my face. “You’ve got fifteen minutes, Farrah. Fifteen fucking minutes or I’m coming up there to get you.”

  I whimpered, my eyes wide as I took in his flexing muscles and red face. What had I done? I didn’t understand what was happening. When his arm raised to the back of his neck, I flinched again and then turned and ran, silent sobs shaking my body with each step I took away from him. He was scary. For the first time since I’d met him, Cody had actually scared me.

  I didn’t know how to process it, and so, with my quilt downstairs in Cody’s hand, my body did the processing for me. The panic attack hit me hard. I stumbled into the wall outside my room, falling to my hands and knees on the hardwood floor with a loud thud.

  “Cody!” Gram called from the end of the hallway. “Get your ass over here! Son of a bitch!”

  I felt her arms go around me as I struggled to breathe, completely forgetting the normal exercises I used to calm myself down. Slider was dying? I didn’t care. I didn’t. Shit, he couldn’t die. I was having a baby. God, why did it hurt so bad? He was nothing. He was nothing. And why was Cody yelling at me? What did I do?

  My mind whirled in confusion, my emotions all over the place until I finally reached the point where breathing was my only concern. I felt my quilt wrap around me, and my body was lifted and carried into my room.

  “Breathe, Ladybug,” Cody urged as Lily pressed a small paper sack to my face. “You’re okay, baby. You’re okay.”

  Cody took over holding the bag, then the quilt was flipped over our heads, encasing us in a multicolored cocoon. The sun coming through my window streamed through the quilt, and I traced the stitching with my eyes. My entire body was stiff as I tried to ignore the way Cody was pressed up against me, holding the bag to my face.

  He did this. He was the one who walked into my sanctuary and gave me the first panic attack I’d had in months. He was the one who’d screamed at me.

  With the bag over my face, reminding me to take deep breaths, I was able to regulate my breathing faster than I’d ever done before, but it still took a while.

  “I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry,” Cody repeated into my hair, dropping the bag from my face to wrap both arms around me.

  I was determined to ignore him, too mad and confused to give an inch. But then, quietly and without any warning, his breath hitched in his chest and he moaned quietly, pressing his forehead against my crown.

  “Cody?” I whispered.

  “I missed you,” he said, his voice low. “Fuck, I missed you. I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

  I heard footsteps leave the room, and when the door closed quietly and I was sure we were alone, I gently pulled the quilt off our heads.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, my breath still unsteady.

  “Yeah, just tired. Fuck, I should be asking you that.” He took a deep breath. “I know you don’t wanna go, baby, but we need to head to Eugene. Slider needs surgery and he’s fucking refusing to sign the paperwork before he talks to you.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “I know it is—he’s a fucking idiot. But you still have to go, Ladybug. A lot of people are depending on him, and the man’s gonna lose his leg if he doesn’t get that shit taken care of—”

  “Okay, I’ll go,” I said, cutting him off. I didn’t want to hear any more about Slider. I didn’t know if I could handle it. “But I need to get ready first.”

  I climbed off his lap, my legs still a bit unsteady, and he reached out to grip my hips. Thank God for the sweatshirt I’d worn to bed last night, hiding the new bulges I was sporting. I hadn’t thought about it when I’d first seen him, too intent on getting as close to him as I could, but as he watched me gathering my clothes to take with me to the bathroom, I prayed that he wouldn’t notice the changes.

  This was the absolute last way I wanted him to find out about our child.

  “You look good,” he commented, leaning his elbows on his thighs.

  “Uh, thanks,” I mumbled back, hurrying toward the door. “I’ll be back in a couple minutes. I’ll go grunge today, so I won’t have to do my hair.”

  “Okay, Ladybug,” he said tenderly, his small grin completely at odds with his slumped shoulders. “Go fix your war paint.”

  I gave him a small smile before hurrying out of the room.

  As soon as I reached the bathroom, I closed the door behind me, locking it for the first time since I’d arrived at Lily’s. I hadn’t worried if one of the old ladies would walk in on me; we were all girls, after all. I wasn’t even sure if
the thing worked, but I was afraid if I tested it, I’d look like I had something to hide, so instead I just watched the door nervously the entire time I got ready. Thankfully, I’d packed a flannel shirt and some old baggy jeans in my suitcase, even though I hadn’t planned on wearing them, and by the time I was dressed and ready, my weight gain was pretty well camouflaged. I was ready . . . even if I didn’t feel ready.

  Cody didn’t say a word as I kissed Gram and Lily good-bye, and soon, my head was stuffed into a helmet and I was on the back of his bike, riding gingerly down Lily’s bumpy driveway. I forced myself to keep my eyes straight ahead, afraid if I glanced back for even a second, I’d completely lose it.

  Things were happening fast, and scenarios raced through my head the entire way home as I tried to keep my body from pressing into Cody’s back. I did a pretty good job of keeping a little space between us, but as we climbed off the bike in the hospital parking lot, my muscles burned in protest. He looked at me oddly as I pulled off my helmet, but I didn’t acknowledge it. I was already bracing myself for my meeting with my father, and I wasn’t doing a very good job of controlling my breathing.

  Shit, it wasn’t like he could do anything worse to me, right? I mean, the blowup at the club had been pretty epic and I doubted he could top that, especially laid up in a hospital bed with a bullet in his thigh. As Cody grabbed my hand and led me into the elevator I took a deep breath, praying that I could continue to do so. I just needed to get in and get out, no drama and no panicking.

  “You grabbed my quilt, right?” I asked nervously as the doors opened to a hallway full of bikers and their old ladies.

  “It’s in my saddlebag,” Cody assured me, squeezing my hand.

  My stomach started cramping, and I felt beads of sweat form on the back of my neck as the bikers parted like the Red Sea, forming a clear path to Slider’s hospital room. I felt naked as they stared at me, and tried to pull out my trusty mask, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t find the calm facade I’d used as protection for years. What was wrong with me? Oh my God.

  No. No. I refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. I lifted my chin as we passed by them, never meeting anyone’s eyes. I was just here to see the sperm donor. I didn’t need their approval. I could do it. I knew I could do it.