Prologue
Katrina
“Kat, it’s time to go,” Slyce whispered. “Grab Frankie. We need to move.”
I jumped up from the bed. “What’s going on?”
“There are men outside. It looks like they’re wiring the place up to blow. We need to move now.”
“Blow? As in explode?” I hissed. “Who would do that with people inside?” I rushed to Frankie’s bed. “Wake up, baby.” I gently shook her shoulder until her eyes fluttered open.
“Mom, stop.”
“Francesca Delilah, get out of that bed. We have to go!” I prayed the urgency in my voice didn’t scare her, but I needed her to take me seriously for once. Raising a preteen was not for the faint of heart.
“Fine,” she huffed and threw her blankets off. “I need to get dressed.”
“There’s no time,” Slyce commanded. “Put on your shoes; we’ll get you some new shit once we’re gone.”
Frankie glared at Slyce. She didn’t like the woman’s brash demeanor. I couldn’t say I was a fan of it either, but she’d been protecting us since she got here, so I owed her.
“Frankie, we need to go; this might be our only shot.”
“What about Bunny?”
I threw my head back and stared at the ceiling, silently willing my eyes to stay dry. Looking at my daughter, I said, “We don’t have time to look.” I grabbed her by the shoulders.“There are men outside trying to blow this place up.” Her eyes widened in fear, and her face paled. I hated scaring her. She’d already been through enough. But I trusted Slyce enough to know she wouldn’t bullshit me.
“Okay,” she said quietly, her voice somber. She spun around and dove under the bed, pulling a box out. She threw off the top and grabbed the small stuffed bunny. It was no bigger than the length of her hand, but she’d had it since she was two, a gift from her biological father before he walked away from her.
I’d never kept secrets from Frankie. She’d always known she was adopted. She knew her mother had gone to prison for hurting her, and her father had signed his rights away.
And she knew that bunny was from him.
After my ex-husband, Richard, went to prison, Frankie and I moved to Arizona. I did everything I could to keep Richard from finding us when he got out. Always used cash, which had gotten harder and harder. We were happy and safe for a few years. It was just the two of us.
Then I met Clay.
He seemed nice. I worked at a diner, getting paid in cash under the table. It was such a cliché, but there weren’t many places that would pay in cash. He’d been coming in for months before I finally agreed to go on a date. I’d known him for almost a year when I finally allowed him to meet Frankie.
Allowed was a strong word. It was an accident, really. We were in the grocery store and suddenly there he was. Looking back, he must have been following me. Hindsight was 20/20, as they say.
He pulled out all the stops and convinced me to move in with him. That was when I found out the truth. That he was in a biker club. I didn’t know how to get out. I’d only gotten away from the last bastard because the police were involved. TheDeath Dogs didn’t involve the police, and God help anyone who did.
I knew it was stupid. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Clay was controlling, but he wasn’t abusive. Not physically, anyway. He protected me and Frankie from the others. Then one day he just never came back from a run.
By then, we were living in Wyoming. I’d thought my life was over, then Slyce arrived one day. She took one look at me and somehow knew we needed help. I would forever be grateful to her.
“We need to go now!” Slyce repeated, the tone of her voice displaying her irritation. I grabbed Frankie’s hand, and we rushed out into the darkness.
We started running, Slyce in the front and me practically dragging Frankie behind me, her little hand clutching the bunny she held to her chest.
My legs burned, and my breathing was rapid as I held on to my little girl. Shouts rang out behind us, and I looked over my shoulder. A man was running after us, with five more behind him.
“SLYCE!”
She slowed but didn’t stop as she lifted her gun. “Keep going!” she shouted. The sound of gunshots made me stumble, and then the ground shook. Heated wind pushed us forward, and we tumbled to the ground. I pulled Frankie into my arms, tears no longer holding back.
“Mom,” she whimpered.
