Overdosed: Fury's Storm MC (34 page)

BOOK: Overdosed: Fury's Storm MC
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“Be honest with me. I need you just to be honest now, all right? Don’t be trying to get out of it. Did she ask you?”

 

“Yeah, so what?” Now he was getting irritated. I knew I shouldn’t push him, but what choice did I have? This could mean the future of the club. He looked scared, too. Like a trapped animal.

 

“Fuck.” I looked at the table, taking a deep breath. I couldn’t let anyone else see how pissed I was. And I was very, very pissed off at Kat right now. In my head I slammed a chair against the wall until it shattered, then I swept a row of bottles off the shelves behind the bar. Nothing would have felt better than that right now. I was livid.

 

“I gotta go.” I went straight to the door and to my bike. I had to get to her.

 

Once I got on, I realized I had no idea where she lived. I pulled out my phone and looked up her name. Kat Edwards. One of the first results was for a violin teacher. What the hell was this about? I clicked the link.

 

There she was, on her own little website. Talking about the way she offered kids lessons so they could learn to love music as much as she did. Blah, blah, blah. A bunch of kids holding violins. Oh, she also performed publicly. I thought I should follow her to one of her performances and see how she liked when I tailed her around town

 

There was a number listed under contact info. I took a chance, entering the phone number into the search engine. And there it was. Her home address.

 

If a person was going to be as determined to get themselves into trouble as she was, the least she could do would be to leave her address unlisted. It was like she was asking for it.

 

And she was about to get it from me. I took off as fast as I could for her house.

Chapter 9
 

Kat

 

 

As soon as I got home, I went straight upstairs to a hot shower. I had to get the feel of that man’s hands off my body. It felt like my clothes carried his stench, though that was probably my imagination. The mix of smoke, booze and sweat were stuck in my head. I smelled him all over me, and washed my hair twice to get rid of him.

 

Once I’d finished scrubbing my skin as hard as I could without taking it off, I wiped the steam off the bathroom mirror with a towel. Who was that haunted girl? The one with the dark circles under her eyes, who looked so jumpy and full of dread? That couldn’t be me. I looked as though I’d aged ten years in two days.

 

What the hell was I doing? I stared at my reflection, questioning everything that had happened. If I wasn’t careful, I’d end up in trouble just like Sabrina was. And what help would I be to her then? Getting myself killed wouldn’t bring her home. I had to be more careful.

 

As terrified as I was, I could see that quitting wasn’t an option. I’d told that man—whoever he was—that I would leave the club alone. At the time, I would have told him anything he wanted to hear. I might even have believed it at the moment, when I was terrified. Now that the moment was over, and I was thinking more clearly, it was obvious I was closer than ever to finding out what happened to my sister. Why else would I have a knife held to my throat? The guy had threatened to
kill
me. He was scared.

 

But so was I. I knew I couldn’t cross him again, because next time he’d go through with killing me, or at least seriously hurting me. I would be easier if I knew who he was. Maybe I could ask Gabriel. If I described him, he might know who threatened me. That would mean admitting I’d been to the bar, though, when he specifically told me to stay away. That idea was out. Besides, since when was I considering Gabriel my protector? What a joke. He was easily the most dangerous out of all of them.

 

I watched as my eyes filled with tears. I wouldn’t give up. I couldn’t. Sabrina needed me. Why couldn’t she have listened to me when I begged her to be smart and stay away from the club?

 

I thought about all the little firsts she’d experienced, the ones I’d been lucky enough to witness. Her first steps. Her first words. I taught her to ride a bike. I remembered the way my heart was in my throat when I first let go of her. She’d gotten all the way to the end of the block before she realized she was alone. Then, of course, she fell. I remembered bandaging her knee later on.

 

Her first day of school. I walked her there, since Mom was at work. I was late for school, but by then the teachers didn’t seem to pay attention. They all knew the score. I was raising a kid.

 

The first boyfriend. Oh, that had almost killed me. She was only twelve, and it was all innocent enough, even though I knew twelve-year-olds could be pretty sexually savvy, even more than they were when I was that age. I’d read up on the trends for kids her age, like the color-coded sex bracelets—she wasn’t allowed to have them, not even the innocent ones—and the cringe-worthy trend of getting drunk by soaking tampons in booze so the smell didn’t show on the breath. It was a real eye-opener, but I’d done my best to keep her on the straight and narrow by staying ahead of things like that.

 

Then came the first heartbreak. That was just the worst. I was still young enough for my own memories of heartbreak to be fresh. I remembered struggling not to cry right along with her.

 

Somebody was trying to take her away from me. I couldn’t step aside and let them get away with it, even if it put me in danger.

 

I was startled by the sound of the doorbell, jumping and shrieking a little. My heart took off at a gallop. He’d followed me here. I should have known he wasn’t going to let me go so easily. He’d only waited for me to relax so that I wouldn’t be on my guard. Now he was going to attack me where nobody could disturb us this time.

 

I looked around for a weapon, but I was in the bathroom, so there wasn’t much to choose from. My eyes fell on a curling iron, the hair dryer. Hairspray? Would it work like mace?

 

I picked up my phone instead, creeping down the stairs with it. The doorbell sounded again, then again. Whoever was there was in a hurry.

 

“I’m calling 9-1-1!” I shouted, digging my nails into the palm of my free hand to keep my voice from sounding scared. I dialed the number, my thumb poised over the “Call” button. “I mean it! I’m doing it right now so you’d better leave!”

 

“Kat, it’s me. Open the door.” Gabriel. I breathed a sigh of relief, then thought twice. Was he any better than the alternative? I didn’t know if I could trust him any more than the rest of the club. I had to give this some thought. Maybe he’d found out I’d been there earlier, and he came here to punish me. He sounded pretty angry. I’d gone too far this time.

 

Then I remembered how he’d kissed me. He couldn’t want to hurt me, not if he kissed me the way he had. If he wanted to, he could have hurt me in my car, or taken me to his house to do it. He was here because he wanted me to be safe. I had to believe that.

 

I opened the door. I wanted to know how he found me—was it really that easy? Could my friend with the knife find me, too?

 

Before I could say a word, he pushed his way into the house and shut the door. There went my heart again, faster than ever. He was enraged, his face bright red. I shrank against the wall, instantly regretting letting him in but knowing he could easily have broken the door down if he felt like it. He leaned in, one hand on either side of my head.

 

“What the fuck were you doing at the bar?” He was close to me, nearly screaming in my face. “Didn’t I warn you? Do you think this is some kind of game?”

 

“No! I don’t!” I nearly peed myself, I was so terrified. I was shaking, flinching away from his fury. Just like the guy at the bar, he meant business.

 

“Then why can’t you listen? Why do you keep coming back for more when I’ve done everything I could to warn you?” He punched the wall, nowhere near my head, but it was still enough to make me scream softly, almost curling up in a ball. I felt the wall shake behind me.

 

“Because I have to find Sabrina.” I was whimpering, my hands over my face. Like a wounded animal. The defiant part of me, the one that kept getting me into trouble, screamed at me to stop acting so whipped. I was too scared to listen. I was afraid he’d hit me next if I didn’t stay still and quiet.

 

“But don’t you get it? You’re gonna get yourself killed! This isn’t a fucking game, Kat!” He was roaring, and when I dared to sneak a glance at him I saw how the way his eyes were glaring at me. There were beads of sweat on his forehead. I’d heard about his temper, hadn’t I?

 

He moved away, pushing off the wall where he had me trapped. I watched as he paced the room, reminding me of a jungle cat. He was just as dangerous as one, for sure. I was too afraid to speak, or to even move a muscle. I was afraid of what might happen if I did. The slightest thing might set him off.

 

A vision flashed in front of me. My mom, in the corner, on the floor. One of her “boyfriends” standing over her, screaming at her. I took Sabrina and ran up to my room with her, locking the door. We had huddled together on my bed for a long time. I still didn’t know how that situation played out for Mom. I’d been singing to Sabrina, the radio turned up, my voice drowning out what was happening downstairs.

 

Now I thought about my sister. Had that been her, just before she vanished? Curled up in a corner on the floor, with some thug screaming down at her?

 

“How can I get through to you?” he growled, glancing at me. “How can I make you understand the shit you’re stirring up? What will it take for you to see how serious this is? What do I have to do?”

 

“Why won’t you help me?” I asked, still whimpering. “Why are you just telling me to stop when I told you already what it means to me that I find my sister? I don’t understand.”

 

“You’re right. You don’t understand. That’s why it’s best for you to go away and stay away.”

 

“I can’t!” I was crying, desperate. Why didn’t anyone want to listen to me?

 

“Then you’re gonna get yourself killed, girl. That’s all there is to it.”

 

“Then I get killed! But I don’t have a choice!” I had to make him see. He seemed like a reasonable enough person—maybe even more intelligent than the ones he rode with.

 

“You’re wrong! You have a choice. Make the right choice before it’s too late.”

 

“I don’t get it. You’re supposed to be the leader. Why can’t you tell your guys to lay off, or tell them to cooperate with me?”

 

“It doesn’t work that way!” He roared again. The defiant voice in my head told me he sounded scared. But I was still too scared, myself, to pay attention.

 

“I told you,” I said, trying to take another route, “that this is just me. You know? I’m the only one who cares. The police don’t anymore, thanks to your pack of criminal deadbeats. They let you do whatever the fuck you want, even if it means killing a girl. What do they care? As long as you’re not bothering them. Right?” He wouldn’t answer. I knew I was right.

 

Then my fear started to turn to anger. He wasn’t the only one with a temper.

 

“Why is it okay for you guys to threaten me like this? Why can’t you assholes control yourselves? Huh?” I walked over to him, getting in his face just like he’d done to me, except I was a foot shorter than he was.

 

“You have no idea,” he said. “None.”

 

“I do! I understand you’re a bunch of criminals who don’t give a shit about good people like Sabrina and me!”

 

“That’s life,” he said.

 

“But it’s not okay! Instead of you assholes not being fucking criminals who threaten and hurt people, I’m the one who’s supposed just to roll over and forget my sister ever existed!
That’s not going to happen!
” I was screaming, not caring who heard. Maybe one of the neighbors would call the cops. Good. Let them find this creep here. I’d tell them how he’d threatened me. Once they knew it was all because I was poking a stick in the club’s hornet’s nest, maybe they would do something to find Sabrina.

 

“Just. Stay. Out. Of our business.” He was completely calm, flat. Was I dreaming? Or hallucinating? How could he not care?

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I didn’t think before I acted, just lashing out. I shoved him. Granted, it was a lot like shoving a brick wall for all the effect I had. He stayed completely still, but it made me feel better so I did it again, then shouted, “How can you be so calm about this? Somebody in your club has to do with this! I know it! I know you do, too! How can you not care?” I pushed again and again against him as I vented, the words pouring out of my mouth. All of my rage and fear and heartbreak came out, and I pushed him over and over because I needed to hit something and he was the closest person to me. I needed him to react somehow.

 

But he didn’t. He stood still, looking at the wall. I might as well have been screaming at myself.

 

I looked around the room, my eyes finding a framed photo of Sabrina and me on one of the end tables. It was one of my favorites. She had just graduated high school a few minutes before the shot was snapped, and was wearing her cap and gown and the honors stole around her neck. I’d worked my ass off to keep her in school and make sure she had the little things she needed. She’d been babysitting for years, but I wanted that money to go toward school and a car. I made sure she had money for fun with friends, shopping, a prom dress. All those things that made school more than just a place to go every day.

 

“See this?” I held the framed photo up to Gabriel’s face. “This is my sister. And that’s me, next to her. I don’t know who you think you knew, but this? This is her. The real Sabrina. She’s the girl I put through school, even when it meant I couldn’t have a social life because I was working so hard. She’s the person I’ve spent my whole fucking life trying to set a good example for. She’s the only person I have in the world and somebody from your club took her from me. I know it.”

 

He wouldn’t look at the picture, turning his eyes away.

 

“Why won’t you look? Huh?” I kept following his eyes, holding the picture in front of him no matter where he looked. “Is it because you know? You know what happened to her?” I looked at the photo. We had both been smiling so wide. It was one of the best days of my life.

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