Unbreakable: Unrequited Part Two (Fallen Aces MC Book 2) (20 page)

I nod, listening but not really paying attention. Time is ticking, and I haven’t been able to get in touch with Sully after we collected Elena the other night. I’ve got no idea what Carlos is up to, what he’s planning, or where he’ll show up. The guy has to be fuming now that he knows Elena’s gone. Yet another reason keeping me from heading back to my parents’—I’ll lead him straight to her if he’s had eyes on me.

Callum still talks about his latest conquest—some doe-eyed sheep the properties have conned into hanging around—when I spot Fingers come in from the garage. He catches my eye and lifts a stubby digit to scratch the left of his nose. I follow the lead and drift my gaze across to his left to see Corinne leading the way down the stairs, followed closely by a set of tree trunks for legs. Her most recent customer drops off the last step with the swagger of a man who’s just had his cocked sucked seven ways from Sunday.
Grime.
Fucker is here, after all.
Damn.

A sharp elbow in my side snaps my attention back to Callum, but he doesn’t look where I am. He nods toward our second problem. Apex is out of his office and he’s heading for Abbey. He comes to a stop behind her, caging the poor girl in against the table she clears off. Abbey’s shoulders curl inward, and her chin damn near punches a hole through her chest. Apex laughs, and the fucking broken girl looks as though she wishes it were possible to vanish into thin air.

I shunt a boot against the wall and push off, weaving my way around the pool table, and past Corinne as she heads to the ladies room. A yelp sounds from Abbey as Apex slams a meaty hand around her upper arm and drags her toward his office. I increase my speed, hell bent on getting there to intervene before the twisted fucker can drag her away from prying eyes, but come up short when the brick house that is Grime moves in my way.

“Where you headed?” the interloper grumbles.

“Didn’t think it was any of your business,
nomad.
” I sidestep.

As does he. “Been told your club has a fuckin’ vermin problem.”

“Yeah,” I sneer. “I’m starin’ right at it.”

Apex’s door closes with a slam.
Fuck.

“Did you hear the news?” the big lug taunts. “Votin’ is in two days.” He leans down, his thick fucking skull right in my face “I know what my first order of business will be when I take a chair at that table.”

“Nomads can’t be voted in as officers.”

He scoffs and straightens out to look me over, head to toe. “Yeah, I know.”

Fucker turns and walks away, showing me his brand new Lincoln patch.
Well fuck me.
Shit’s worse than I thought. I spin on my heel and stare straight at Callum who simply shrugs. He hobbles over and points to Apex’s door.

“What the fuck was that?”

Fingers joins our impromptu meeting mid-room and shakes his head. “He’ll be givin’ her the ultimatum.”

“Be a fuckin’ whore, or ship out,” I mutter.
Asshole.

Fingers nods. “Girl’s been out of her mind. You know how much she hates to be touched.”

“Yeah.” What the fuck is this club coming to? It’s a safe haven for nobody; a home for nothing but the seed of doubt and mistrust.

Things have to change.

“You seen Beefy?” I ask Fingers.

He nods and gestures to the back deck. “Having a late-night bite before he turns in.”

“Thanks.” I give the boys a pat on the shoulder each and head out.

Beefy is reclined in one of the plastic chairs. A red Solo cup hangs from a limp hand as he stares up at the stars. “My pop told me that by the time we see a star, it’s been dead for years. That what we look at is history, right there.” He lifts a thick finger to point at Orion’s Belt. “If it’s dead, why do we still appreciate it? Isn’t dead stuff supposed to be ugly and filled with sadness? Why do stars make us happy?”

“How much you had to drink?” I ask, dropping down to my ass beside his seat.

He rolls his neck to look at me. A slow smile spreads across his lips, splitting them to reveal yellowed teeth. “Enough.”

Do I even bother? Is there any worth in talking to him while he’s like this? Thoughts of Elena force me to move ahead anyway—the sooner this shit is done, the sooner I can get back to her and make forever ours.

“You know Apex prospected for the Blood Eagles?”

Beefy damn near falls off his chair in his haste to sit up straight. “Say what?”

“He wanted to be an Eagle before he came to the Aces.”

“Who told you this?” Beefy pops a fat elbow as he rests one hand on his knee.

“Devon.”

He snorts a laugh and relaxes into his chair again. “So the fallen have risen, huh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He told you why he was kicked out?”

“Said he didn’t want to do what Apex told him to.” I decide to spare the details in case that wasn’t for public consumption.

“Uh-huh. He went with his tail between his legs. Didn’t hear a peep out of the fucker for years, and now, when the club turns to shit, he slithers out of the woodwork.”

Tail between his legs out of sadness most probably, not shame. “He’s not interested in comin’ back.”

“Why he talkin’ then?” Beefy narrows his dark eyes on me. “Why he tellin’ you all this?”

I shrug. “Perhaps he doesn’t see the need to keep secrets secret anymore. What payback is he gettin’ by stayin’ loyal to a club that disowned him?”

Beefy tilts his head briefly. “You have a valid point.”

“So is there truth in what he said? That Apex’s woman is Eagles bloodline?”

Beefy sighs, a darn sight more sober than when we started mere minutes ago. “That I know. It’s one hundred percent factual.”

“And his son?”

He twists in his seat, glaring down at me. “His what?”

“They have a kid together.”

Beefy slowly shakes his head; his mouth opens and then closes. “I . . . is he sure?”

“Apparently the reason why we never went to war in ’97. His old lady and kid were still at the Eagles compound, and our brothers—Devon included—busted her out.”

The plastic legs of his chair clatter as he jumps the seat around to face me. “You’re tellin’ me that he was in
exactly
your position at one point in his life, and now he refuses to do the same favor for you?”

“Exactly what I’m sayin’,” I whisper, leaning a shoulder forward for effect. “You can’t tell me that there is an ounce of him still working for the good of the club if this is how far the lies go.”

“Why the fuck aren’t we hittin’ them hard now then?” Beefy’s eyes go wide as he figures the links out for himself. “Asshole’s got his own beef with them, so he’ll plan on goin’ in there solo, won’t he?”

“Would be the only thing that makes sense right about now.”

I scoot back, giving the enormous man room as he lunges from his seat with an effortless ease I’ve never witnessed in the years I’ve known Beefy. “Where the fuck is he?”

“In his office with Abbey.”

Beefy tips his head to the side, expression twisted and pained. “Abbey?”

“Can’t say I’m too happy about that either.”

“What the fuck now?” He wanders over to the doors to peer inside in the general direction of Apex’s office door.

“Property girls have been puttin’ pressure on Abbey to become one of the whores, spread her legs for our visitors and that.”

“Abbey’s not a fuckin’ whore. She’s just a kid.”

I lift both eyebrows and tip my head at him. “Exactly.”

“Jesus, enough is enough.” The timber floor vibrates with his purposed strides towards our president’s door. “Mighty, I might need you here, boy.” One of our newer prospects—a guy with the neck circumference of the average male’s thigh—crosses the room at his senior’s barked order.

I hang back and sit on the arm of one of the sofas as Beefy slams a heavy fist against Apex’s door.

“Fuck off,” comes a voice muted by the thin wood.

“I’m givin’ you till ten, boy, and then I’m kickin’ it in.” Beefy cocks his head, waiting on the response.

The door edges open, a red and enraged Apex the only thing visible through the gap. “Who the fuck do you think you—”

Pres stumbles backward as Beefy’s foot hits the door. The splintered ply swings open and rebounds off the cabinet behind, showing a clearly upset and hysterical Abbey cowering in the corner, her top half ripped off.

“What the ever-lovin’ fuck, Apex?” Beefy jabs an arm in Abbey’s direction as he addresses Mighty. “Get her the fuck out of here and find Fingers. Get him to figure out what the fuck happened.”

Mighty moves in to help Abbey up, but jumps back when she lets fly with her nails, and bared teeth. “Bitch is crazy.”

“We know that already,” Beefy sighs. “Just get her out.”

Apex paces the whole time like an anxious dog, blocked in the room by his desk and Beefy’s position. “What you gonna do, Beef? What you think you’re gonna do?”

I cross the room to help Mighty with Abbey, hoping that she might at least calm down to follow directions if she sees me. Apex’s cool glare settles on me as I walk through the doorway.

He lunges, held back by Beefy’s thick arm across his chest. “You slimy fuckin’ asshole. It’s you,” he hollers. “You’re the one who’s behind this.”

“I think you did enough damage on your own, Apex.” I give the fucker my back and kneel down before Abbey. “You in there, girl?”

Her wild eyes dart around the room. Tears stream down her face, although she doesn’t cry . . . she yells. Her voice cracks under the pressure; her deafening roar echoes about the room. It’s pure, frustrated energy.

“Easy, now.” I hold up both hands to her. “You know I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”

She stares at me a beat and for a moment I think I’ve got her . . . until she growls. Never have I heard such an animalistic sound from a fucking human. It breaks my heart to think what insanity has made her this way.

“Mighty and I are goin’ to step back and let you out, okay?” Because what do you do to a cornered animal? You give it room.

“Do us all a favor and put a bullet in its skull,” Apex grumbles from behind Beefy. “She’s a waste of fuckin’ oxygen.”

I stand and spin to face the asshole, my shoulders squared and my fists at my sides. “Perverted fuckin’ assholes like you are the reason why she’s like this. Would you say the same about your child? Just put a bullet in it because he’s a waste of oxygen?”

His pupils enlarge, and his teeth grind under the pressure. I’ve struck a nerve already raw from injury.
Suck on that, fucker.

“What the fuck’s goin’ on in here?” Fingers asks from the door. “I could hear her from the garage.”

Abbey’s growls turn to whimpers as she crawls across the floor to Fingers’s feet. He reaches out and does the oddest thing. He holds his hand over her head an inch from her hair. The guy never touches her, but the gesture is enough to calm her frayed nerves judging by the way her eyes soften and her breathing becomes deeper. “Come on, girl. I got a swing-arm that I need your help with.”

She nods up at the older man, and pushes to her feet.

Fingers turns and walks across the common room, Abbey close behind.

“What the fuck did I just witness?” Mighty asks.

“Compassion,” I say. “Nothing but selfless understanding for his fellow man. Something a few people around here could learn a thing or two about.”

Elena

I’ve woken no less than ten times since King’s mom left me to rest, and each time the sky’s still been as black as the pits of hell. Selfish desires fight against my need to protect our unborn child. King and I have fought for a future together, but then our baby also deserves a chance at a safe start to life.

I’ve flip-flopped over what to do all night, or should I say morning. Each time I think I have it worked out my conscience plays tricks on me and I find the flaw in my plan, reverting back to Plan B.
I need to leave.
The one thought that’s constant throughout all of this.

I slip from the bed, and into the clean clothes Addie left out for me. A pair of worn jeans and an aged John Deere T-shirt cover the bruises and scrapes left over as reminders from my escape. Even if I can get my mind focused on moving forward, the physical reminders will drag me back to that hellhole for weeks to come.

The house is silent save for the solid tock of the grandfather clock in the entrance. The door to King’s parents’ bedroom is pushed to, the gap not enough to see anything through. I can only assume they’re still in bed.

Carpet on the stairs muffles the sound of my feet; my aching hips and back mean controlling my weight is a struggle. If the stairs were bare wood, I’d wake the dead with how hard my heels hit it. No lights are on downstairs as I drop off the last riser to the floor with a dull thud. First stop is the kitchen; if they have a rack to hang all the keys to the vehicles on, this’ll be where it is.

I inch around the corner and start with the pantry. My hand pats the bare wood inside of the double doors and finds nothing. Beside the fridge, in the cupboards, on the wall by the door—why can’t I find the damn keys?

“Would you like a coffee before you go?”

I yelp at the sound of King’s dad’s voice. “What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” His smile is barely visible across the dark room. “I’ve got cows to get to a dairy shed. You?”

What the hell do I say? “Places to be.”

“Yeah, sure, and my son belongs to a recreational club where they all ride their Harleys for fun.”

I swallow hard, unsure if I should just back out and make my way back to bed, or find the door and go.

“Looking for these?” He holds a set of keys up that chime against one another. “Give you one if you can give
me
a bloody good reason why you’re walking out on my boy.”

I fight the pressure in my chest and answer. “I’m not walking out on him. I’m trying to
protect
him.”

“How? If he thought he needed your help, he would have said.” He sighs, placing the keys down on the table with a loud clunk. “Look, Elena. He left you here for a reason, and that’s because it’s safe for
you
. This crazy husband of yours doesn’t know about us—I think—so he wouldn’t know to come looking here.”