“Fine, Jesus,” she scoffs, her face turning red as she shoulders past me, and Millie offers me a shrug, following our sister.
Fucking hell.
Outside, the Marx men load SUVs with their things while the Sadists mull around their bikes, smoking and chatting, and even though they don’t seem to be in a hurry, they are still packing their shit onto their bikes.
Satisfied that everyone is doing exactly what I’ve asked, I go upstairs, taking two at a time, and pulling out my phone as soon as I step into my room, making the call to the only person I feel like I can trust to keep my ma, my sisters, and Tahli safe.
I tap my foot impatiently, watching from the bay of windows in my room as my club brothers start to hustle when our Prez barks something I can’t hear. I huff as the call tone rings, my phone pressed tightly to my ear, and I’m about to hang up when it finally connects.
“Speak,” he barks, and I hope like fuck that making a deal with the Devil is the right thing to do.
Taking in a deep breath, I respond. “I need your help.”
12
Ishould be used to the chaos that has become my life. I don’t know why leaving Ringo’s property has affected me so much. Probably because despite the constant threats and danger there, with him and his family, I felt safe.
It was the first place that felt like home, and I’m pretty sure Tahli felt the same way given how devastated she was when she was ushered into the cars that finally arrived to pick up her, Doreen, Alana and Millie late last night. My little Chook clawed at my arms as Alana peeled her off me, trying to separate us, and the moment she was dragged free, my heart sank.
It feels like it’s happening all over again. I feel like I’ve lost something.
I know I haven’t though. I trust Ringo. I trust his decision and know he would never put them in danger.
Ringo’s big hand squeezes my thigh as he rides, the rumble of the engine rather soothing as I tighten my hold around his waist a little more.
“Nearly there, Angel.” His voice comes through the speaker at my ear as he slides his hand up and down my thigh, soothingly.
He knows I’ve been crying. It was pretty hard to hide, and not just because of the mic embedded in my helmet picking up my sniffling.
The shuddering was pretty obvious.
God, I’m going to look frightful when I pull off this helmet. Maybe I can just wear it everywhere until I stop sobbing.
The unremarkable cars that collected the people most precious to me and Ringo had followed us most of the way after leaving Ringo’s property, but when we turned off the freeway to head into Fox Pines, they kept going east.
There are so many possibilities of where they could be taken. Will they be turning off and heading north towards the high country? Perhaps they are driving towards the Gippsland Lakes, or maybe they are driving right through and heading across the border to New South Wales?
Shit. Not knowing is going to eat at me, but the deal was no one would know where they are being taken, which is why I feel sick to my stomach with worry.
Releasing my thigh, Ringo steers us off the main road and onto the gravel driveway of the new Southern Sadists Fox Pines compound.
Reluctantly, I peel my head from Ringo’s back and watch over his shoulder as we weave up the driveway, the old barn and the series of shipping containers coming into view past the tall pine trees.
As we pull into the main area, my eyes instantly dart to the light pole in the centre of the large yard, and flashes of Wendy’s face fill my mind.
The way she still glared at me with hate past the blood and swelling in her face. The way there was still fear in her eyes despite that.
You did that, Abbey. You’re a monster!
“Abbey!” Nessy calls as Ringo shuts off the engine, and I shift my gaze to the fire drums, and where Nessy is sitting on Vender’s knee, his large hand resting possessively over her thigh.
I wave to her, glad she can’t see my face hidden under the helmet, because I don’t have a smile for her or anyone right now.
I feel drained.
I’m so ready for this shit to be over, but how many times have I thought that?
How much more can I possibly handle?
