Overdosed: Fury's Storm MC (19 page)

Jamie

After a half hour of waiting once the kitchen was clean, I knew I was about to lose my mind. I needed to be away from there for a little while, if only to clear my head. I couldn’t pace back and forth all night in Lance’s office like a deranged person.

Erica stuck her head in through the open door. “Are you okay?”

My head snapped up. “No. I need to get out of here for a minute.”

Erica looked like she was about to protest. I held up a hand to stop her.

“Lance doesn’t need to know. I just have to go back to my house, check on things, get some more clothes together. Stuff like that. When I packed, I thought I was only packing through Sunday night. Now, who knows?”

She looked suspicious, though she didn’t have any reason to be. I was telling the truth, and Lance’s absence was the perfect opportunity to get out of there for a little while.

“Really, what am I going to do? I’m not even asking to take Gigi with me. Just switching out clothes, picking up the mail. That’s it.”

“I guess so,” she said, chewing her lip. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, though.”

“What would happen to me?” I shrugged, honestly unsure why any of them seemed to think I was in danger. I was the last person on anybody’s radar. I wasn’t even part of the MC world, the way they rest of them were. Heck, Erica was probably at greater risk than I was…though I wouldn’t tell her that.

“Okay. I’ll cover for you with Gigi.”

“Thanks.” I gave her a quick hug, then grabbed my coat and purse before slipping out the front door. The first deep breath of fresh air was like heaven after breathing the stale air in the clubhouse for days. I didn’t know how any of them survived during lockdown, I really didn’t. I’d never considered myself an outdoor person—I was more of a homebody. I had just never spent that much time cooped up before, without being sick.

It was nice to get behind the wheel of my car again, to feel in control of my life. Amazing how little time it took to feel like I’d lost control. Only a couple of days. On Friday evening, before showing up at the MC’s front door, I was one person. By Monday afternoon, I felt like somebody else. A different girl. One who had to get permission to go home and pick up a few things. I said a silent prayer as I drove, hoping Lance was able to find Rae and put an end to the madness.

What then? What would happen to Gigi? She’d be totally in his hands. I didn’t like the idea at all. I might have slept with him, but I didn’t trust his parenting skills. What would he do, lock her away in her room? She was already going crazy, and it had only been a week. He couldn’t make her stay there forever. It was too far from school, too, unless he planned to transfer to another school. My heart ached at the thought. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t say goodbye to Gigi.

There had to be a middle ground, something I could work out with him. I might not have been a blood relation, but I cared too much about that little girl to be pushed out of her life. I wouldn’t let him do that to me. I had to be smart, work with him, around him—anything necessary to get what I wanted: Gigi’s happiness.

But who was I to assume I knew what would make her happy? A degree in early childhood education didn’t make a parent, or even an expert on development. Loving her didn’t make me an expert either. Still, I was convinced I knew her better than he did. I knew what was best for her, best for any child. And it wasn’t spending night and day in an MC clubhouse, surrounded by trashy women and criminals—even if they were nice people, that was still who they were.

The closer I got to home, the calmer I felt. The tension of the past few days slipped away until I felt rather Zen-like as I pulled into my driveway. I even had an appetite, in stark contrast to the way I felt while sitting down to dinner.

It was like stepping into a different world, entering my house. Everything was just the way I left it. I breathed a sigh of relief and, for a split second, considered staying. I didn’t have to go back to the clubhouse. I didn’t ever have to go back to that world. It would be easier if I stayed away—after all, it would mean never having to see Lance again. It would be better if I didn’t.

Better for whom? I asked myself the question as I puttered around, running my hands over my TV, my couch, the photos on the end tables. Photos of my parents in happier days, before I lost them to a drunk driver.

It would be better for me, of course. I didn’t need the complication of falling for a criminal. I hated that world, hated everything about it. It went against everything I believed in. I’d spent my life walking the straight and narrow, being a good citizen, doing the right thing. That was the way my parents brought me up. I looked at their smiling faces, frozen in time, and wondered what they would think of me sleeping with a man who had most certainly hurt a lot of people in his short life. He was a thief, a violent man. He might even have killed people. I was too afraid to ask.

He was also the little boy whose mother couldn’t take care of him. Whose foster father abused him, put out lit cigarettes on his bare skin. Who was so badly burned, his teacher cried when he saw the result. He was that person, too. If he’d never been that person, he might not have been the man he grew into. He might have had a chance. He was smart enough. He had charm, charisma. He was a natural leader. He could have grown up to be a CEO instead of the president of an outlaw motorcycle club. Life turned on a dime.

I picked up my favorite picture with my parents, the one taken on the day I graduated college. They had thrown me a party at their house on Long Island, and all their friends had come. Many of my friends had, too. In the picture, Mom stood on my right, Dad on my left. The three of us wore huge, cheesy smiles. For all their money and social standing, they were still two regular people. Just enjoying their daughter’s graduation party.

They were dead a week later. They had just left the driveway, on their way to a movie, when a drunk kid on his way home from the beach broadsided them. Dad died right away, as the collision was on his side of the car. The force sent the car slamming into a tree, which killed Mom. Just like that, it was all over.

And Lance could have been different if anything in his life was different. Hell, I could have been different, too. What if I wasn’t born to my parents? What if they died when I was little? What if, what if, what if? It was enough to drive a person crazy, and it tore me apart inside. As much as I knew he was bad news, I wanted him. That was the worst thing of all.

I couldn’t explain why I wanted him, but I had from the minute we met. It had been easier to scream at him, fight with him, challenge him. It was easier to hate him, to see him as my captor. Nothing but a nasty criminal. That way, I didn’t have to think about how handsome he was, or how funny he was without trying to be. I didn’t have to think about how much I wanted him to touch me, kiss me, make me his. It was so much easier that way.

I couldn’t go back, not when I knew how good it could feel to be with him. How incredible it felt to be in his arms, kissing him, feeling him inside me. I closed my eyes at the memory. It had been blissful. I’d wanted it never to end. But it had, because real life did that. It crowded in when we didn’t want it to.

I wondered what my mom would say if I told her about him. I stared at her photo, almost willing her to answer me. “What would you think about him?” I whispered. “What would you think of me if you knew what I was doing with him?”

That bothered me a lot, too, I realized. My self-image was crumbling before my eyes. I was a good girl, a nice girl, a people pleaser. Sleeping with a criminal.

I shook my head, telling myself to get a grip. I couldn’t let my thoughts run away with me. We’d slept together—big deal. It hardly meant we were in a relationship. It didn’t have to mean anything. Men and women slept together all the time without it meaning anything. It wasn’t like every other man I’d ever slept with had meant something to me. We were dating, I liked them. I moved on afterward. No big deal. It could be that way with Lance, too.

I took the opportunity to grab a shower while I was at home, reveling in the feeling of using my own bathroom again. Not that the shower at the clubhouse wasn’t nice, but there was something about being at home which soothed me. Amazing, seeing as how I’d only stayed there for four days. I’d gone on longer vacations that hadn’t left me longing for home the way my adventure with the MC had.

I dried off, going to my bedroom. I had to pack another several days’ worth of clothes. Before I did, I threw the clothes I’d worn into the washing machine for a quick cycle. While I waited, I fixed myself a snack and sat down to catch up on a little TV. It was so good to be home. Once again, I dreaded going back.

I had to, though. For Gigi’s sake. Why couldn’t I bring her to the house with me? I hated Lance just then for taking me away from my home. My couch, my living room, my kitchen. My TV. My bathrobe, which I could feel free to wear while I ate a bowl of cereal and watched TV with my feet up on the coffee table. I was the mistress of my domain. Why did he have to take that away from me?

I wouldn’t leave Gigi there alone. I couldn’t. The only reason I felt comfortable taking my time was that I knew she would be safe with Erica and Traci for a little while. I trusted them. I just didn’t trust the rest of them—they weren’t bad people, but who knew what Gigi could be exposed to? I didn’t want to leave her vulnerable to that. Besides, I needed to know what happened with Rae. It would drive me crazy not knowing.

With that in mind, I got up from the couch to put my clothes in the dryer. I washed out my bowl and spoon, dried my hair and got dressed in record time. I had to be at the clubhouse by the time Lance showed up. I didn’t want him to get angry when he found out about me leaving. Besides, it would get Erica into trouble, too, and I didn’t want that.

I gave myself a little pep talk as I drove back. My heart was heavy. I wanted to be with Gigi, and I couldn’t deny wanting to see Lance, but I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be back in my own world. Getting a taste of it only made me miss it more.

I hardly noticed when my phone rang, and remembered turning it to silent when Lance and I napped. I fished it out of my purse, sitting beside me in the passenger seat. An unknown number. I would normally have ignored it, but with the state my life was in I didn’t think it wise to ignore any phone call. It might have been Lance, for all I knew.

“Hello?”

I heard breathing on the other end of the line. Then, “Is this Jamie Hollis?”

“Yes. Who is this?” I pulled over to the side of the road, my heart racing. I didn’t know the voice, but I couldn’t miss the menace in it. Whoever it was, they weren’t just calling to say hello.

“We have the girl.”

I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. I looked around, my first instinct to get help. There wasn’t anyone around, of course.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, digging my nails into my palm to keep myself calm. I couldn’t lose it. If they did have Gigi, I had to be calm for her.

“We have the little girl. The one you’re so close with.”

“Who’s we? And if you have her, what’s her name?” My mind raced.

A chuckle. “Gigi.”

I closed my eyes, slamming my hand against the steering wheel.

I had to think. I couldn’t panic. I had to keep it together for her sake. I took a deep, shaky breath, willing myself to stay conscious and calm. “Why did you take her? Who are you? What do you want?”

“It’s pretty simple. You have to come and get her.”

“I don’t understand. Do you want money? I don’t have any money.”

“We both know that’s not true, don’t we? Not with the kind of house you live in.”

I shuddered. Who followed me? I looked around again, wondering if someone watched even then.

“Bullshit. You’re a fucking coward. Why don’t you show your face?”

“Now, no need to get excited. And stop with the words. I can tell how scared you are—you can’t fool me.” A laugh.

“You’re so smart, is that it? You think you know me? You don’t know anything about me, or what I would do to protect that girl.”