Pres?
“Alright,” Coy says once the third and last guy is over the threshold. “Allie, you’ve already met Poster Boy.”
Poster Boy smirks and nods his head at me.
Ugh, maybe it’s wrong of me, but I find myself glaring back at him.
I know, I know he’s the one who got me into this mess.
Coy jerks his chin to the bigger of the other two. The guy is so big and tall, he must have been fed Miracle Grow as a child. “This is Hammy.”
“Ma’am,” Hammy says respectfully before he smiles, leans back on his heels, and shoves his hands in his pockets.
“And this is Steve,” Coy says, nodding to the third.
Steve lifts his hand and gives me a little waggle of his fingers. He’s not quite as big as Hammy or as muscular as Poster Boy, but he’s still not a small man by any means.
These three are probably going to give me a run for my money when I try to get out of here.
Coy looks to me, his eyes meeting my eyes as he growls, “I’m trusting you brothers to protect my ol’ lady and son while I’m gone.”
Ol’ lady? Is he referring to me? Am I an ol’ lady now?
“You got it, Pres. We won’t let them out of our sight,” Hammy says a little too enthusiastically for my tastes. Clearly eager to please.
Just what I need.
Steve nods his head in agreement, matching Hammy’s enthusiasm. “We’ll treat ‘em like our own.”
The smirk falls from Poster Boy’s lips and a little tendril of tension appears out of nowhere.
Coy looks to Steve and gives him a dark glare. I watch him start to open his mouth and then stop. He clenches his jaw so hard, I’m surprised I don’t hear his teeth cracking.
Hammy nudges Steve hard with his elbow.
Finally realizing his mistake, Steve mumbles out, “Sorry, Pres. I mean like—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Coy snaps, cutting him off. He growls a little and reaches up, raking through his hair as if he’s frustrated. “Just take good fuckin’ care of ‘em.”
He gives me one last look, a look that warns me to behave, then he stomps out of the house.
Hammy lets out a breath when the door slams shut. “Shit man, that was stupid.”
“Fuck, I know,” Steve grumbles, his shoulders slumping.
Poster Boy gives them both a look of disgust. “One of you needs to check the backyard and keep a lookout on the porch.”
Perking up and obviously ready to redeem himself, Steve says, “On it.”
Before either Poster Boy or Hammy can have any say on the matter, Steve is hustling past me, offering me a smile and nod as he heads to the back of the house.
Poster Boy shakes his head.
“What do you want me to do, brother?” Hammy asks.
Poster Boy looks to me, his eyes sizing me up and considering how much trouble I’m going to cause him. I’m not surprised at all when he says, “Keep an eye on the Pres’s son.”
Echoing Steve, Hammy seems to puff up and nods. “On it.”
And I have to fight back a smile. Maybe this will be easier than I expected. Poster Boy is definitely still going to be a problem, but the other two, I know their kind. Lord knows I’ve met enough of them being married to Mikhail.
They’re yes-men.
Incapable of thinking for themselves, they need to be told exactly what to do, and will have a hard time reacting when something unexpected happens.
It’s totally going to work to my advantage.
Once I figure out a plan, that is.
“Ma’am,” Hammy says as he walks past me, heading for Levi on the couch.
Completely engrossed in his cartoon up to this point, Levi finally looks up from the TV as Hammy gets closer to him.
He probably felt the whole house trembling. The guy is freaking huge.
“Hey there,” Hammy says, offering Levi a friendly smile.
Levi scowls, his brows pinching together. “Who are you?”
Hammy sticks out his hand. “I’m Hammy.”
Levi looks down at his hand for a second. “Hammy?” he repeats, confused.
“Yeah,” Hammy nods and keeps his hand stuck out. “Your pa asked me to come over and help keep you safe.”
Levi looks nervously at me. “My pa? I don’t have a pa…”
Not liking the distressed look on his face or the way his bottom lip is starting to tremble, I start walking back over to the couch.
“He means your dad, Levi,” Poster Boy calls out.
“Yeah,” Hammy says and nods his head quickly up and down, looking a little nervous himself. “Your dad, the Pres.”
Levi blinks and seems to digest the information. “Oh.” Then, ever curious, he asks, “The Pres? What’s that mean?”
Hammy looks like he wants to sigh with relief as he pulls his hand back. “It means he’s my boss. The President of the motorcycle club I’m prospectin’ into.”
Levi’s face lights up. “My dad is a president?”
“Yup,” Hammy grins and bobs his head.
“And you guys have a club of motorcycles?” Levi asks, his voice raising with excitement.
“You betcha,” Hammy says and walks around the couch to sit down as Levi starts to hurl question after question at him.
Standing near the couch, I listen in on the conversation, interested myself and a little amused as Hammy struggles to provide answers that are appropriate for a child.
When Levi finally gets bored with the topic and turns his attention back to the TV, talking excitedly about his cartoon, I tune them out. After watching the two of them, I’ve come to the conclusion that Hammy seems harmless enough and start focusing on trying to figure out a way to get us out of this house.
I can see Steve through the sliding glass doors leading to the backyard. He’s sitting in a chair on the porch, looking down at his phone and smoking a cigarette.
He seems so engrossed in his phone, I doubt he’d notice if Levi and I left.
The other two on the other hand…
Hammy is talking to Levi, there’s no help for that, but I’m pretty sure he could be easily tricked into letting his guard down.
Poster Boy, though… Ugh. The entire time I’ve been standing here I’ve felt his gaze on me.
I cast a quick glance over my shoulder, and just as I suspected, he’s leaning against the wall near the front the door, arms crossed over his chest, watching me.
Shit.
How am I going to trick him?
A dozen possibilities filter through my brain, but I end up dismissing them one after another.
A fire is too risky.
And accidentally injuring myself seems pointless.
I’ve already been beaten and terrorized and they haven’t taken me to a doctor or hospital yet. The last thing I want is to end up in the system anyway.
No, I know nothing I’ve thought of so far is going to work. I’m just going to have to wait for an opportunity to present itself.
Hoping some caffeine will fuel my brain, I shuffle over to the kitchen. As expected, Poster Boy follows after me. I sense his presence behind me as soon as I grab a mug and fill it up with coffee.
Trying to ignore him so I can focus, I grab the folded-up copy of the Courier-Journal Coy left on the counter and carry it over to the table. Sitting down, I snap it open and pretend to read it while I’m really brainstorming my escape.