3
Piper
Sitting up on the bed, the urgency to pee has me crossing my legs. Rolling my head, I search for some relief from the ache strangling my muscles. This fucking cuff has my whole body hurting.
Candy shut the lights off and closed the door behind her before she left hours ago.
I can’t sleep though. I glance out the dusty window, the yellow lights outside casting just enough light for me to see the bed and wall.
Why hasn’t the club come yet? They should have found me by now. I look down at my free hand, biting my lip. A memory coming to mind. When I was a little girl and I would sit in my room and look out my window waiting for Cherry, my mom, to show up.
The feeling of isolation and fear settles in my stomach just like when I was a kid. I cup my flat stomach, I will never let them take my baby. I will be here for my child from the day she’s pulled from my womb. I swear it.
My thighs clench, the need to pee warning me it’s going to happen without my say so.
Sighing, I bang my hand against the metal headboard. The noise loud.
“I need to pee!” I shout. I jerk my cuff again and again until the door to the room finally opens and the light flicks on.
Using my hand, I try to block the harsh light.
It’s Stacks.
“I need to pee,” I clip, my eyes squinting from the sudden brightness. He’s shirtless, wearing a pair of low-slung jeans with holes in them. My eyes fixate on the tarantula tattooed on his chest. Its beady eyes and fangs show so much detail it looks like he actually has a spider crawling on him.
Barefoot, he strides into the room and bends at the knee, unlocking my cuff. My arm falls like a dead weight. I grab it with my other hand and rub the soreness burning my wrist.
My skin is an ugly purple, my fingers puffy and red.
He looks at me with an impatient grimace. “Well, go,” he implores rudely.
Standing on unsteady legs, I slowly make my way to the bathroom. It’s an old room, the paint chipped and distressed. If I weren’t a prisoner, I’d say it had the potential to be something really beautiful. Then again, my house would give an interior designer a heart attack. I’ve just never had the itch to decorate. The idea for a country themed baby room blooms in the back of my head. Little daisies on barn wood walls. I know that doesn’t really sound like something I would handpick. Jesus, I’ve been pregnant a minute and my mind is already turning to mush. Hands on the buttons of my bottoms, I flip my hair over my shoulder, about to sit on the toilet when I notice Stacks leaned against the bathroom wall staring at me.
“Um, are you seriously going to watch me piss?” I hold my pee.
“Don’t flatter yourself, I don’t get off on watching pregnant bitches go to the bathroom.” He growls, crossing his arms.
My brows narrow. “Well, I can’t go with you watching me.”
Pushing off the wall, he closes the gap between us and snatches me by my sore wrist.
“Then you don’t have to go that bad.”
“Wait!” I pull back. “I’ll go.”
He releases my hand and steps back. “Then go.”
I shimmy my pants and panties no lower than I have to and pee.
I keep my eyes on the toilet paper across from me, making sure not to make eye contact with Stacks. The sound of my pee hitting the porcelain awkward enough.
I wipe and stand. Washing my hands with warm water only as there’s no soap. The counters are bare of anything. No brushes or hair products of any kind.
I dry my hands off on my shirt and turn, Stacks and I stand toe to toe. Our eyes locked. His irises are blue with flecks of emerald green. I hadn’t noticed that before.
“So are you some kind of biker or something?” I ask, making conversation.
He turns, breaking eye contact and ignoring my question.
“I can’t fucking do this every time you need to go to the goddamn bathroom.” He growls, shaking his head. He obviously doesn’t have any children because that would require having to take them to the bathroom during the time of potty training.
I frown at his tone. It’s not like I want him in there with me any more than he wants to be, but I’d be a liar if I said I wouldn’t have looked for something to help me escape if he wasn’t in there with me.
He points to the bed like he’s telling a dog to go lay down and I stall.
“Come on, I’m tired.” He rushes me, pressing his large hand on the small of my back. It’s bigger than Saint’s, more calloused too.
Rolling my eyes, I sit down on the bed, rubbing my sore wrist.
“Please, can’t you lock the door or something?” I promise I won’t try to climb out the window.
“No,” he clips, snatching my hand, he cuffs it to the bed, but not as tight as before, thankfully.
I growl, irritated. I hate him.
Just as he reaches the door, I lift my head off the pillow, a devious look pulling my face into a smirk.
“See you in an hour, Stacks.” He glances at me over his shoulder with a confused look.
“You know us pregnant ladies, we have to pee all the time,” I say sarcastically. I won’t have to pee in an hour, I don’t feel any different than I did yesterday or the day before but if I can fuck with him... then I’ll be yelling for him in an hour.
His lip curls just as he flicks the lights off and slams the door.
Saint
Sitting on a bed of a truck we’ve been working on, I tilt the bottle of vodka back, the warm liquid burning all the way down and coating my stomach.
No word on Piper.
No word on my baby. We’ve looked all around town, and called everyone who is anyone. Nothing.
Big Chief was taken into custody for questioning on what went down last night. I guess he didn’t cooperate with their questioning and copped an attitude, landing his ass in the back of a cruiser. I’m surprised Zane wasn’t arrested with how much he was yelling and getting in their faces.
With Chief in their hands we have no clue if his truck has Lojack on it, we wait.
Waiting.
Baring my teeth, I yell and throw the empty bottle of vodka across the parking lot. Hopping off the back of the truck bed, I pace. Angry. We should have found Piper by now, had some word on where the fuck Rad has taken her.
“Hey! You’re going to clean that up.” Turning on my heel ready to start a fight, I find Shadow glaring at me.
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re worried about broken glass, but not finding Piper?” I slam my fists on my chest, marching towards Shadow with a death wish.
He points to me.
“You better back down.”
“Or what?” I’m half drunk, angry. I’m pissed about waiting around and not doing fucking anything. All this rage pent up has me ready to throw down with anyone, even if it’s the president of my club. I’ve been waiting for someone to push me so I can release the hurt and rage battling each other within my ribs. Shadow just opened the fucking door.
A foot away from Shadow, a fist slams into my mouth. I swing back, landing my knuckles into the side of his head. He’s quick on his feet turning suddenly behind me and throwing me up against the club’s door. I’m seething, out of breath, and ready to fucking choke someone.