Tia’s voice is bright and warm even through the tinny speaker. The sound of it brings a rush of emotion so intense I have to bite my lip to keep from sobbing.
“Ash? You there?”
“I—” My voice breaks. I swallow hard and try again. “I need help. I’m at Hangman’s Tavern with my father. I can’t—” The words stick in my throat, but I force them out anyway. “I need help.”
There’s a beat of silence, and I’m certain I’ve made a mistake. That she’ll tell me I’m overreacting, that she can’t get involved in family drama.
“Stay put,” she says instead. “I’m coming with Estelle. We’ll be there in fifteen.”
“But…”
“No buts. Find somewhere safe to wait. Text me if you need to, but we’re coming. Period.” The sounds of movement come through the line, keys jangling, a door closing.
“Does Tony still work at the Hangman?” I hear Estelle shout from far away.
“Fifteen minutes, Ash.”
“Ten,” Estelle counters.
The call ends, and I stare at the phone in my hand like it’s a foreign object. It was that easy? Just ask for help and someone comes?
Fifteen minutes. I need to find somewhere to wait that isn’t here, where Papa or Mack or that bartender might come looking for me.
I splash cold water on my face. I can do this. I peel back the bathroom door. The guys in the hall have moved on from jerking off. Blond is on his knees now, cowboy hat toppled on the floor. His head bobs like crazy. I’ll have to step over them to go back out into the bar. I back down the hallway and around another corner a big steel door with an exit sign. It says “Emergency Exit. Alarm will sound.”
I take my chances, hold my breath, and push the door open. There’s no alarm. Maybe it’s a silent one?
The night air hits me like a shock, but the air tastes clean. The music from inside is muffled now. I press my back against the brick wall beside the door. How long before Papa comes looking for me?
Minutes drag by like hours. Every sound makes me flinch. I check my phone obsessively. What if they don’t come? What if Papa finds me first? I edge away from the back door and around the side of the building. I don’t want to stand out in front, but it’s scary and dark back here.
Headlights sweep across the parking lot as a giant SUV pulls in. Relief floods through me, so intense that my knees nearly buckle. They came. They actually came.
As the SUV rolls to a stop, I hear, rather than see the bar door open. The crappy ass music spills out.
“Lynn!” Papa’s voice cracks like a whip in the narrow space. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
His face is half-lit by the neon sign, half-darkened by rage. He takes a few steps toward me. I back up. The SUV’s tires screech. That makes Papa rear back.
The passenger door snaps open and a tiny blond omega that I’ve never seen before pops out. She has her hair in a high pony and is wearing pink fuzzy PJ bottoms, bunny slippers and a baby doll T-shirt that says “Smells Like Trouble” across her giant rack.
Papa is momentarily stunned.
“Ashy!” She squeals. I am now stunned too.
Estelle crawls out of the SUV next and pulls herself to her full height.
“Babe, let’s go.” She wiggles her fingers for me.
I take one step but stop when Papa hisses my name.
“Get in the car, Ash,” Estelle says in a tone that would make an alpha’s knees shake. I take one step. So does Papa. I freeze.
“Do I need to call my Uncle Enzo? I hear you’re on the outswith him.”
That makes Papa pause, but only for a second. He takes another step.
“Oh, maybe you need to be introduced to my little friend here. Meet Smith and Wesson.” Estelle’s voice is so calm and casual it would be easy to ignore the giant handgun she pulls out from her waistband.
