“Remington? Hmm...Don’t reckon we’ve met before.” When we’d made it up to the door, her smile quickly faded, and her eyes widened with disapproval. “Oh, good Lord almighty! What happened to her?”
“She had a bit of an altercation with a couple of assholes, but she’s on the mend.”
“Did you have something to do wit’ dis?”
I gave her a scathing look as I snapped, “Come on, Ada. Damn, you know better than that.”
“I know. I know. I shouldn’t have asked such a thing.” Ada May stepped over to Remington and placed her hand on her arm. “Don’t you worry, child. I’m gonna fix you right up.”
“Thank you, Ms. Ada.”
“Come on. Let’s get you inside.” Ada motioned us forward as she opened the door. While her trailer didn’t look like much on the outside, the interior couldn’t have been nicer. The living room had an oversized sofa, a couple of comfortable chairs—including Ada’s favorite recliner—and a flatscreen TV mounted in the corner of the room. Flower arrangements and pictures were scattered around the room, and a large sunflower painting hung over the sofa. The kitchen was small but clean like the rest of the house. It was clear that Ada had taken great pride in her home, which was Viper’s intent. He wanted her to have everything she needed and more, and that’s exactly what she got. With a worried look on her face, Ada motioned her hand towards the living room. “You can put ’er dare on the sofa or carry her on to one of da bedrooms in da back.”
I looked down at Remington and asked, “What do you think?”
“The sofa’s fine.”
“You got it.”
I carefully lowered her down on the couch and she’d barely gotten settled when Ada came rushing over with a pillow and a blanket. She patted Remington on the leg and said, “I got just da thing for those awful bruises. You just wait right dare.”
Ada scurried off to the back of the house, and Remington never said a word. A solemn look crossed her face as she used her fingers to brush her hair out of her eyes. I knew this whole thing was tough on her, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. “I’ve gotta help the brothers. You gonna be okay here for a little while?”
“Of course, she is,” Ada May answered for her. “Now, you go on and do what ya gots to do. She’ll be just fine.”
Ada pushed past me as she sat down on the coffee table in front of Remington and opened up a tiny bottle of lavender oil. Sensing my hesitation, Remington glanced up at me and smiled. “I’ll be fine. Go help your brothers.”
I nodded, then rushed outside. By the time I made it to our storage unit, Menace, Widow, and Country had finished at the strip club and were there with Hawk. They’d just unlocked the storage unit’s door, and Menace was logging in the code to open the hidden subfloor. The unit looked like all the others. It even had what appeared to be a regular concrete floor, but with one click of a button, the locks would disengage and reveal a set of stairs that led to an underground shelter. Once Menace opened the door, we all got busy unloading the SUVs. I was reaching for one of the duffle bags when I heard Widow grumble, “This is some bullshit.”
“You ain’t lying,” Country replied as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “What’s with the fucking heat today? Damn. It’s hotter than two rats fucking in a wool sock out here.”
Hawk chuckled as he asked, “What’s wrong, Country? You afraid you might break a sweat?”
“Break a sweat? Hell, I got swamp ass for days,” Country complained. “My taint is screaming for some corn starch.”
“I hear ya, brother.” Rafe shook his head. “My ass is—”
“Yeah, yeah. We get it. It’s fucking hot,” Axel snapped before Rafe could finish his thought. “Just move your chafed ass already, so we can get out of this goddamn heat and back to the clubhouse.”
Clearly unfazed by Axel’s scolding, Rafe grabbed a couple of duffle bags from the truck, and as soon as he started down the stairs, he chuckled and said, “Chafed ass. Swamp ass. Grumpy ass. Yeah, we got ’em here today, fellas.”
“Shut it, smartass.”
Laughter broke out as Axel grumbled cursed under his breath and grabbed another duffle bag. As we continued our descent down the steps, I could feel the cool, damp air on my skin, giving me a small reprieve from the scorching heat. Once downstairs, everyone started placing the bags on the shelves that lined the concrete room. It looked like a tornado shelter more than an actual safe, but it did the job. With the contents from the SUVs unloaded, we all trudged back upstairs, and Menace quickly locked everything up. When the brothers started to disperse, Axel walked over to me and said, “Viper wants you to stay here with the girl.”
“I need to be at the clubhouse in case something goes wrong.”
“You need to be where Viper tells you to be.” Axel’s eyebrow lifted when he added, “You made the decision to bring the girl to the clubhouse, so you deal with her.”
As much as I wanted to, I knew better than to argue. Trying my best to swallow my irritation, I gave him a nod and watched silently as my brothers loaded up into SUVs without me. After they were gone, I glanced back over at Ada’s trailer, and that’s when it hit me. I’d rather be at the clubhouse with the fucking cops than in that trailer with Remington. I just didn’t know why—or at least, I didn’t want to admit that I did. Either way, I was fucked.
Remington
“I’m guessing you can’t tell me who done dis to ya.” Ada hadn’t stopped talking since the minute Shotgun walked out that door. There were times I couldn’t even tell if she was talking to me or just to herself, but she was extremely sweet nonetheless. Her soft wrinkled fingers gently swept over my face as she applied lavender oil on my bruises. I had no idea if it would actually help, but it felt wonderful. There was a little bite to her tone as she grumbled, “You gotta be a sorry kind of fellar to put ya hands on a woman. People ain’t got no home raising no more. Got no respect for others or demselves. Ooo-wee. I sure could teach dem boys a thing or two.”
“I’m sure you could, Ms. Ada.”
“I tell ya what’s wrong wit’ da world today,” she pursed her lips. “Folks quit whooping der chil’ren. All dis time-out nonsense. Hmph. Should’ve gotten a switch after ’em and den we wouldn’t have so many disrespectful chil’ren.”
It was clear from the way she spoke that Ms. Ada May believed every word, and to be honest, I wasn’t so sure that she wasn’t right. My parents were pretty relaxed in the discipline department, but I never gave them a reason to behave otherwise. I found it doubtful that the men who attacked me the other night could say the same. “You might be right about that.”
“Might be? Pfft. No, honey. A good whoopin’ is exactly what deez chil’ren need.” When she was done dabbing the oil on my face and arms, she gave me a quick scan as she asked, “You got any more bruises I need to know about?”
“No, ma’am. Just a few stitches and bruised ribs.”
Ada’s expression grew angry again. “I sure hope Viper and dem boys of his take care of whoever did dis to you.”