Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 123155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“What kind of a situation?” my mom asked worriedly.
“Dad with you?”
“He’s right here, hold on.” The sound changed when she put the phone on speaker.
“I’m here,” my dad said. “What’s going on?”
“I’m at a friend’s house,” I replied, rocking a little as the baby started to stir. “And I’m pretty sure they’re dead.”
“Say what?” he snapped.
“I was up in their daughter’s room, rocking her to sleep, and I heard gunshots downstairs,” I whispered. “Then my friend was screaming, more gunshots, then quiet.”
“Oh, shit,” my mom mumbled.
“Where are you now?” my dad asked, his tone changing to the unnatural calm that always presented itself when one of us was in danger or hurt. I’d heard it countless times growing up, but it had never comforted me as much as it did right then.
“I’m hiding in the closet.”
“You think it’s a good spot to stay?”
“Well, I’m behind a massive fur coat,” I said, pushing it back from my face a little. “And they’ve already come in here looking and didn’t find me.”
“Christ,” he hissed.
“But I’ve got a week-old baby with me,” I said, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. “So, this isn’t a long-term solution.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
“Holy hell,” my mom said. “That poor baby.”
“Yeah, I know,” I replied, rubbing my cheek over the top of her head. Her world had changed in an instant. I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat.
“I’ll send someone to get you,” my dad said, ignoring the side conversation between my mom and I. “Text me the address.”
“I don’t know the address. I’ll drop a pin and send it.”
“I’ve got no fuckin’ clue what that means,” he snapped.
“Cam can help you,” I said with a sigh. “Please don’t tell anyone else about this, okay?”
“What?” my mom asked. “Why?”
“Because I don’t need everyone all up in my shit,” I replied, trying to keep my voice low and calm. It was a familiar argument, even though the circumstances were far from normal. I’d escaped from that life for a lot of reasons, but leaving behind the people who’d talked shit about me both to my face and behind my back was one of the main factors.
Did I think the whole club would come down, guns blazing? Absolutely. I was one of theirs. A club member’s kid, who’d grown up before their eyes. Did I want them to come down here with their snide comments and dirty looks? Not even a little bit.
“Do you have someone close that can come?” I asked my dad, leaning against the wool coat behind me, then jerking back upright when the hanger squeaked along the rod it was hanging on. “Because I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to stay in here.”
“Yeah,” he replied. “I’ve got some people that owe me favors. You got a piece on you?”
“Always,” I replied. “But I have no idea how many people are in the house.”
“You know of a safer place you can hide?”
“I could probably find one,” I said, reaching up to wipe at the sweat on my face. Jesus, it was warm in there. “But this house has cameras everywhere. If they’re in the office, they’d see me moving around.”
“They got cameras, they can go back through them and see that you’re in the motherfucking house,” my dad replied. “Fuck.”
I closed my eyes in defeat. He was right. After a couple silent seconds, he spoke again.
“We’re gonna assume that they aren’t doin’ that because they haven’t found you yet,” he said, his voice grim. “They decide to do that, you stay put. Take ’em out one by one as they come through the door. Don’t fuckin’ miss, Cecilia.”
“I won’t,” I replied around the frog in my throat. I was so fucked.
“Your mom’s got our shit packed and we’ll be on the road as soon as I can line up someone to come get you out. I’ll keep this shit quiet for now because there’s nothin’ the boys can do at this point, but if I have to pull the others in, I’ll do it. Don’t care if that pisses you off.”
“Okay,” I said through gritted teeth, trying hard not to cry. Crying wouldn’t help the situation. Crying would only upset my mom more than she already was. Crying would make me lose focus. It would make noise. And frankly, it was a waste of fucking time.
“We’re coming, baby,” my mom said, her voice firm. “You stay safe until we get there.”
“Send me those coordinates,” my dad ordered. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” I whispered.
“Love you more than your dad does!” my mom called right before the call disconnected.
I rolled my eyes and sniffed as quietly as I could as I sent location pin to my brother Cameron’s phone. After he replied with a thumbs up, I set it down next to my thigh and shifted, trying to get comfortable. It wasn’t easy in the confined space.