They blare their horn and I press myself against the seat, trying to catch my breath from the near accident. The metallic taste of iron coats my tongue and I lick my lips to taste blood. That son of a bitch. I swore to myself I’d never allow another man to push me around, and of course, Vince comes into the picture. I feel as pathetic as I was when I was with Kimmy’s father.
Something about them makes me feel small as a woman. They have this… dark, lurking manipulation about them. This power that I can’t explain. Even the bikers I’ve met don’t hold this much evil. I know the Ruthless Kings do horrid things that are never talked about, but not once have I ever felt like I had to sacrifice a part of myself to be there.
With my ex and now with Vince, I feel as though I have to remain on eggshells. One wrong move, one wrong word, and I’m dead.
They have this amazing ability to instill fear, yet make someone feel special. It’s a poisonous cycle, one that kills slowly.
“You moved, huh?” he asks when I pull into the driveway, the tires crunching along the gravel.
“Yes, I had to for Kimmy. Your brother left us high and dry. He wasn’t a great provider anyway, so I had to do what was best for my daughter.”
Really, Alicia? You can’t even keep your mouth shut when a gun is pointed at your head?
He opens the back door and climbs out, leaving the gun pressed to my head as he opens my door, then yanks me from the driver’s side by my hair. “Listen to me, you fucking whore. He only stayed with you because he knocked you up. You were nothing to him and he doubted that little girl was his anyway because of her red hair.”
“She was his! I have red hair you fucking—” my words are cut short when he tosses me on the ground and kicks me in the stomach. I gasp and gag, both at the same time if it is possible, and dry heave over the lawn.
He keeps the gun pointed at me and flips me over with his boot until I’m on my back. “I can see why my brother hated you so much. You’re nothing but a damn headache.” He clicks his tongue in annoyance. “But if I have to deal with you to find him, I will. I’m not leaving until I get answers and you better hope they are answers that get me what I want, Alicia. Or so help me, I will peel the skin from your daughter’s body while you watch.”
He lifts me by the thick of my hair and shoves me forward. “Open the door and invite me inside, honey,” he spits, his blue eyes as cold as ice as they stare at me with lust, hate, and anger.
I notice the cut he is wearing. I can’t remember Vince being in a club, but if he is, it could mean they know he is here, and that could mean a war between the clubs. That’s the last thing Boomer needs right now, considering they were at war with the old Ruthless Kings Chapter here in Atlantic City not too long ago.
The keys jingle together while I insert the silver key into the rusted iron doorknob. I have to wiggle the handle and the key at the same time before the door opens. I’ve always hated this place. I hate the bad neighborhood it’s in; I hate how it doesn’t have a security system; I hate the landlord.
I hate everything about this place.
Vince places the barrel against the back of my neck. “Grab the chair and tape.”
“Tape? What the hell, Vince? I’m not going to do anything. I’ll cooperate and I’m telling you I don’t know where your brother is. He left town. It shouldn’t be a surprise.”
That earns me another hit with the gun. This time the handle lands on my shoulder and deep pain blooms across the muscle. I fall forward, catching myself on the kitchen counter with an agonized groan.
“He might have left you, but he would have never left me. When I got out of prison, we had plans together. He might have hated you, but he didn’t hate me.” A chair drags across the floor and I’m pushed into it. He finds one of Kimmy’s pink jump ropes that she keeps lying around, no matter how many times I tell her not to.
It’s so we don’t trip over them, but right now, I don’t care about that. I just want to not be tied to a chair. I’m not going to fight him anyway. He has a gun and I barely know how to karate chop. I’m not unaware who has the upper hand here.
He ties the rope around my midsection and pulls it tight, creating a knot in the back. For a kid’s rope, it’s pretty secure. I can barely wiggle.
I knew I should have gotten the cheaper rope instead of splurging on the one she really wanted. It’s neon yellow with sparkles all over it.
How can I say no all the time to her? It isn’t fair. So, I bit the bullet. I guess in a way it was worth the investment. Not only is it a great rope, but it can double as a weapon to secure someone.
Noted.
Vince opens the drawers in the kitchen and spills them on the floor, the forks and knives clattering.
“What are you doing?” I struggle against the rope, moving my shoulders around to try and get free, but this damn material is actually holding me in place. “There’s no reason to trash the house, Vince. It’s the kitchen! Nothing is in here.”
“Sounds like something someone who has something to hide would say, Alicia.”
I close my eyes and flinch every time I hear something hit the ground. Plates shatter. Food is dumped out of the fridge. The apples in the bowls on the counter get tossed on the floor. Cabinets slam shut and drawers are yanked open.
Vince finally makes his way to the living room. He goes through each and every magazine beside the recliner his brother never had a chance to sit in. He tosses each magazine in the middle of the living room, then heads to the bedroom. From here, I can see him tossing clothes in the air.
Nothing of his brother is here. When he died, I made sure to throw out everything he owned with his memory. There isn’t a trace of him left in this house. He didn’t even have any bank accounts. He only dealt with cash. There is nothing left of him to prove he isn’t alive like I say he is, but Vince won’t ever find his body.
Not unless he looks in every corner of the ocean.
And by now, that asshole is fish food.
“Where did he go?” He stomps through the mess in the living room and lifts his arm to point the gun at me. “Fucking tell me, Alicia. Or I’ll kill you right now and leave your little girl an orphan.”
“I don’t know!” I yell, tears dripping down my face at the sight of the barrel of the gun. “I swear, I don’t know. He left. He said he didn’t want to be here anymore, and he left.” I hang my head, so he doesn’t see the lies shining in my eyes. “I swear, I don’t know.”
“You better hope he’s okay. When I find him, we’re coming back, and I’m going to deal with you and that little brat you call your daughter. I’ll be back in two weeks.” He tucks the gun in the back of his pants and grips my chin with his hand, his fingers digging into the sides of my mouth. “So you better make the best of it, understand?”
I open my mouth wide and bite his finger as hard as I can when it slides in between my teeth. He cries out, yanking it out of my mouth, which earns me another hard slap across the face. A whimper leaves me, and my mind falls right back into the moments with his brother.
I don’t even like saying his name. I don’t want to think about his name. I don’t ever want to think about him again. He doesn’t deserve for me to speak his name. Ever.