If I have to go back to Alabama, I’m going to do it on my own terms, not on Brick’s or the Iron Norsemen’s. The twisted part of me wants to rub the fact that I escaped the Devil’s Crusaders in Silver’s face. My little piece of revenge. I stagger to my feet and search for my backpack. It’s on the floor near the kitchen.
I open it and dig out my cell phone. Without thinking, I dial Checkers and he answers on the first ring.
“Starlet?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Where are you?”
“Let me talk to Silver.” I can hear hooting and laughter in the background, like there’s a party going on.
“He’s busy.”
“Checkers,” I say, running short on patience. “Tell him to take his dick out of the passaround’s mouth and accept my phone call.”
The background noise gets muffled and I know Checkers covered the phone with his hand.
A few seconds later, Silver gets on. “Starlet?”
“Why do you want to marry me, Silver?”
He sighs. “Jesus Christ. I don’t have time for your emotional bullshit. Does it matter?”
“Yes,” I say. “I refuse to live the way Sammy and I did. If there’s the smallest chance of happiness…”
“Think you killed that chance when you ran away.”
“Then there’s no reason for me to come back.”
“Listen,” he says quietly. “Every day that goes by and you’re not home, you’ll pay for it with blood and pain. You shit on Sammy, your father, and this club when you walked away. I’m not going to make any promises, Starlet. Please me, and there might be a chance for us to make peace. You’re gorgeous, that makes it easier to accept, but I know you’ve got an attitude. Been around you a lot of years, girl. That fake smile and submissive nature you wanted everyone to believe in never fooled me. This is like a business transaction—honoring your father’s name and legacy by giving him the grandchildren he always wanted. Sammy couldn’t get the job done,I will.”
Not even sure how to take his words. “Jesus.”
“He’s not here. Just me, and I’m wearing the president patch now. You belong to me, better not forget it again. Where are you?”
I wrestle with the notion of telling him. Once I do, there’s no escape, not that I have a way out now. Better from my lips than a stranger’s. “Shreveport.”
“How’d you get down there?” He sounds so pissed. “Did one of the old ladies help you? One of the brothers? Tell me.”
I don’t answer.
“Where in Shreveport?”
“The Iron Norsemen’s compound.”
There’s a long pause. “What the hell, Starlet? If I find out one of those motherfuckers touched you…”
Oh, he touched me. Fucked me. Held me. Protected me. Gave me hope. If I told Silver the truth, it would solve all of my problems—he’d kill me. For a brief moment, the idea of death appeals to me. Not too sure I can brave a lifetime married to Silver. Or a day without Brick. “No one touched me, Silver. I just needed a place to go where I felt safe.”
“Stay put, Starlet. I’ll be there by tomorrow afternoon.”
