Page 45 of Storm

“Wake the fuck up,” I hear it again, another slap to the face. Then I feel cool liquid being splashed on me. I lick my lips and taste the water.

“He’s not dead.” Is that Patch?

“Patch?” I mumble his name and get a laugh in return. Are they here? Is this a dream?

“Am I still fuckin’ dreamin’?” I grumble, my voice sounding scratchy.

“If you’re dreamin’ about this shit hole then there’s somethin’ seriously wrong with you, brother.”

“You’re here?” Laughter once more.

“Yeah, motherfucker. We’re here. We’re gonna get you up and out of here,” he adds as something or someone tugs at my wrist. I can feel the weight of the chain as it comes loose and leaves my arm. I sigh when I feel hands on me.

“Can you stand?”

“Haven’t stood in a while,” I tell them.

“Okay. We’re gonna lift you, and get you the fuck outta here.” I nod my head as my eyes slowly open to slits. Not enough to see well, but enough to see that the guys are all here.

“The assholes that took me?” I ask as I’m lifted off the ground. I groan from the pain as I’m carried toward the steps.

“Not here. Some chick named Jenny called us.”

“She got out?”

“She’s upstairs,” Tide tells me.

“She comes with us,” I mumble as my head drops forward.

“Got it,” Patch adds as I’m taken up the steps. I can feel when we leave the house, the light of the sun burning my fucking eyes after being in the dark for so long.

The guys place me in the back of what I assume is the van before they close the doors. I take a few deep breaths before forcing my eyes to open partially.

“Fuck,” I grumble.

“That’s gonna hurt. Keep them closed,” Tide tells me.

“Kenzee?”

“She’s safe. We got her out.” Thank fuck for that.

“Said they torched the house,” I say as best I can.

“They lied. They didn’t.”

“They want her,” I tell them.

“Stop talkin’, Storm. No one is gettin’ to her. We’re gonna make sure of that,” Patch says this time. I let my head drop back onto the seat behind me and keep my eyes clenched shut. She’s safe.

That’s the one thing that plays over and over in my head. Kenzee is safe. She’s where she belongs at the clubhouse.

A part of me blames myself for this shit. If I hadn’t been so insistent on staying at her place, they never would have been near her to begin with. That’s all on me, and I know it. I should have made her stay at the clubhouse, knowing it was safer there but I didn’t know this fuck was after her. How could I have? Doesn’t change what I feel though, and I know this is on me.

The ride takes a bit before we pull up at the club. When the engine dies, I sit up and force my eyes to open once more. I feel like I died six times now. My body hurts and not in a good way.

The back door opens, and Tide is there helping me out of the van and onto my feet.

“You want me to carry you?” he asks. I shake my head.