“We know what’s going on,” Words’ mom states bluntly, in a manner only women of her age can get away with. “Someone’s shooting the hell out of the Kings of Anarchy.”
Both Jenni and I send her a scathing look to suggest, perhaps now’s not the time for such honesty. We all jump together as rapid firing sounds. I cast a wary look toward my son, but the headphones seem to be doing their stuff, and he’s calmer now.
The door suddenly bursts open, and I think we can be forgiven because we all scream. On the other hand, the teenager on the outside jumps out of his skin and looks like he’s going to back out and run.
Recognising him, I call out, “Ace, get in here.” At my words, he steps in with relief.
“Dad told me to stay put, but?—”
“Short told me the same thing,” I admit to him. “But company’s best in this situation.” I can tell by his face that he agrees.
“Lock the door,” I tell him, but as he turns to do so, more people burst in.
I thought I’d seen the club girls wearing very little during the day, but at night, their clothing, or lack of it, is almost obscene. It makes me want to hide both Trip’s eyes and Ace’s. Jenni catches my stricken glance and nods, obviously thinking the same thing as me. She raids the closet and grabs a handful of t-shirts belonging to the true occupant of this room. Tempest, I think, if I remember rightly. After giving them a pointed look at Ace and my son, Trixie slides into one of the shirts and encourages the other girls to cover themselves up.
Decency might have occupied my brain for a moment, but now my mind starts racing again. I’ve got Trip to look after, even if the unthinkable happens and my man doesn’t make it back to me. And Jenni obviously has her daughter to protect in the same way.
I voice the idea that comes into my head. “Let’s barricade the door.”
“You’re saying my son isn’t going to win?”
As patient as I can be under the circumstances, I reply to Cathy. “I’m hoping against hope the Kings will come out on top and send the MDMC packing. But just in case, I think we need to look out for ourselves.”
“Blocking the door will only delay the inevitable,” Cathy states, her eyes narrowed. “Ifthe Kings don’t end up the victors, then we’ll be faced with the bastards who killed them. We should be concentrating on how we’re going to talk our way out.”
But I know exactly how that would end for Trip and me. “Making it hard for them to get in would buy us some time,” I retort sharply. “If it comes to it and it’s not the Kings at the door, then we can escape via the window. We’re only on the second floor.”
“It’s a ten-foot drop.” Cathy’s still arguing with me.
But Jenni’s eyes are lighting up. “We can knot together the bed sheets. There are at least two – the clean one on the bed that Tempest put on for us, and the dirty one he threw in the hamper. And I think in the cupboard he got the new one from, I might have seen more.”
Relieved that at least one other person sees merit in my plan, I stare at the bed. It’s a sturdy-looking California King. “We can use the bed to anchor the rope.”
“What are we waiting for?” Trixie asks.
Jennie moves to the heavy chest of drawers and starts to heave. Alice Jane attempts to help her, but it doesn’t budge until I, too, put my weight to it. When Cathy, with an expressive huff and a loud exhale, adds her weight to it as well, and Ace lends his shoulder, it starts to skate easily across the bare wooden floor.
I exchange a proud look with Ace, Jenni, and Alice Jane, while Cathy looks on scornfully.
“You realise we’re only going to have to move that again when the Kings come to set us free.”
I swing around to confront her, but something stops me. There’s a look in her eyes that belies the words coming out of her mouth, and I change what I was going to say. Her expression is the type I’ve seen many times before, usually worn by a relative accompanying an accident victim into the ER. A desperate optimism that all will come right with the world, while the evidence in the broken body being wheeled in tells a different story.
I place my arm around her. “I love your confidence, but we should come up with a plan B.”
“Listen, lady, I didn’t give birth to Words just to have him leave me due to a stupid fight with another MC.” She continues to grumble, “Who’s going to look after me in my old age if he’s not here to help me? It would be fucking…” her eyes flit to Jenni. “Sorry, Alice Jane, don’t you go learning new words from an old biddy like me. But it would be fucking inconsiderate of him to leave me paying for his grave. Should be the other way around.” She shakes her head and adds scornfully, “And that would be an inconvenience, seeing as he’s the only undertaker in town and can hardly cremate himself. I don’t even know how to work the damn thing.” She glares my way. “Nah, he wouldn’t do that to me. He wouldn’t fuckin’ dare die.”
Knowing it’s all bravado, and she’s only too aware of the risks her son and all of the Kings are running, I hug her closer to me, then lean in and speak into her ear. “How are you at tying knots?”
She cackles a laugh and pushes out of my hold. “You sure you’re settled with Short? ‘Cause my boy Words could use a good woman, and I reckon you’ve got the spunk to deal with him.”
Me? I’m just a timid, abused woman. Or, maybe that’s who I was. Maybe it’s Short who’s put the fight back into me, who’s given me hope and removed the tether tying me to my family. Perhaps I’ve got time to discover what type of woman I could be – if we get out of the predicament we’re now in.
I fist my hand and lightly punch her arm. “I’m sorry, but Short’s the man for me.”
Cathy winks. “Just saying you’ve got options is all.”
“And I’ll take that under consideration, but now, let’s get on with tying sheets.”
