Never Enough: The Vipers MC (8 page)

There was no use wishing. I leaped out of bed, mama bear instincts jumping into action. I picked up the baseball bat I kept close by, then raced to David’s room. The fire escape was just off the living room, further down the hall. Whoever it was wouldn’t be able to see me from that angle.

“Sweetheart? Up. Get up. Come on.” I picked David up, putting him over my shoulder, then raced down the hall to the bathroom. He was heavy with sleep, only partly conscious, and I heaved him into the bathtub. It was the only room I could think to hide in—and it had an additional lock on the door, since the one below the knob was a little sketchy and my little guy used to like walking in on me while I was on the toilet.

I realized I needed my phone to call the cops. I looked down at David, who rubbed his eyes and looked around as though he thought he might be dreaming. I could understand why he would think that—nighttime trips to the tub weren’t exactly the norm. I held a finger to my lips. “Stay here and don’t say a word,” I whispered, then fled to my room. My phone was on the nightstand, my heart in my throat. I raced back to the bathroom before the living room window opened, locking both locks on the door and jumping into the tub with the lights off. I slowly, carefully closed the curtain, wincing at the slight noise of the rings against the bar above the tub.

David whispered in his confused, little boy voice. “What is it, Mama?” He was clearly terrified, his little body shaking from head to toe.

“Don’t worry, baby. It’ll be okay.” Hands shaking, I was just about to call 911 when I thought twice. They could get there quickly, but then what? Would I have to tell them about the money I owed the loan shark? If they caught the man inside the apartment, they might know who he worked for and put two and two together. Once they knew I was in debt to a criminal, they might take away my son. I would have nothing.

I couldn’t let that happen. Instead, I texted Grayson. He would be better in a situation like the one I was in. He was used to working outside the law.

My fingers shook as I typed the message, and I kept having to erase letters as I mistyped them. I groaned in frustration, breathing rapidly as my panic escalated. Finally, I managed to type
Come quick!!! Please!!! Somebody’s breaking into my apartment!!!
I sent it, praying he would see it. What if he were in the shower, or sleeping, or doing whatever it was he did with his time? I didn’t dare call him, didn’t dare make a sound if I didn’t have to. I stared at the phone, willing him to see the message.

Moments later, a reply. I closed my eyes and thanked God that Grayson was paying attention to his phone.
Are you sure?

Yes. Positive. I heard the living room window open. I’m in the bathtub.
I cupped my hand over the phone, trying to hide the glow of the screen in case the robber was outside the door. I held my breath and strained my ears but could hardly hear over the beating of my heart.

I’m on my way. Stay there. Don’t do anything. Do you have a weapon?

A bat
, I replied.

It’s better than nothing. Be there in five. Stay there, don’t move, don’t make a sound
. I nodded as though he’d said it to me and could see my response. “Please hurry,” I whispered.

“Who was that, Mama?”

“Shhh…” I picked him up, holding him in my arms, rocking him. My mouth was at his ear. “We have to be so quiet now. Okay? Don’t say a single word. It’ll be okay.” I wrapped my arms around him, cradling him, determined to protect him. His head was against my chest, and I willed myself to calm down so he wouldn’t hear the frantic thudding of my heart against his ear. I held a hand over his other ear to muffle the sounds of the intruder going through our apartment. Every time something crashed, we both jumped.

What could he want? I didn’t have anything of value. There was little chance of carrying my TV down the fire escape. I didn’t have jewelry, either—I’d given the diamond ring back to Grayson when I left him, and even if I’d inherited anything from my mother when she died, I would have pawned it long before then out of sheer desperation.

He had to know I didn’t have money or valuables. What, then? Was he just trying to scare me? Was he trying to hurt me? The messages were escalating. Joe Green, or whatever his name really was, didn’t play games for long. He wanted me to be sure he would get what he wanted, one way or another.

Living room…kitchen…bedrooms…It was only a matter of time before he got to us. I prayed with all my might that Grayson would get to us first.

Chapter Nine

Grayson

I had ridden fast all my life, ever since I first got on the back of a motorcycle when I was thirteen years old. One of my cousins had saved up for years, working in a garage after school and on weekends. When he finally bought it and rolled up in front of my house, I had almost broken my neck flying down the steps to see it.

I had begged him to let me ride behind him—I didn’t know back then only girls usually rode behind guys, unless it was like an emergency or something. I didn’t know why Kyle didn’t want me to ride. Finally, I got down on my knees with my hands folded. He’d hauled me to my feet and told me to stop embarrassing him, then let me get on behind him. I thought I would die from excitement—he wasn’t the only one in the family fascinated by bikes and the people who rode them.

They say you never forget your first time, and that was true. Nothing would ever come close to the feeling of freedom. The speed, the heart-pounding excitement. I know I had a mile-wide grin on my face the whole time.

That first ride had been like magic. I never looked back. Other guys were into cars, like the guys I knew from the neighborhood, the kids I went to school with. I didn’t give a shit about any of it, not even the coolest classic cars. I wanted a bike. Until I met Jess, that was all I ever wanted.

I used to drag race when I was a kid, too stupid to know any better. My first bike was a victim of racing, totaled against a wall when I slid out of a turn. I’d jumped off at the last second—I only broke a leg instead of my whole body. I would never forget the way it felt to really let go, to let the bike do what it was built to do. The wind in my hair, on my face. The exhilaration.

That was how I felt when I sped away from my apartment building, straight to Jess’s brownstone. I knew the way—I had looked it up, studying the quickest route in my head, going over and over it until it was like second nature. It was one of the only things I could do so far to help her. I had researched her neighborhood, the ways to get to it, her building. The closest police station and hospital, just in case. The other people who lived there. I’d told myself I had to be prepared in case she needed me. That preparation was about to pay off.

It was late, so the traffic on the street was a little lighter. Good thing—not that I wouldn’t have gone between cars, run lights, done whatever I had to do to get to her. I just didn’t feel like getting pulled over by the cops when I did. They weren’t exactly the Vipers’ biggest fans.

It was a ten-minute ride under regular speed. I managed it in six minutes, racing up the stairs to the building two and three at a time. The only thing I could think about was her. What was he doing to her? Was I too late?

I knew which apartment was hers. She had no idea how much I knew about her. I had even studied the floorplan, just in case something like this ever happened. I wouldn’t tell her, since I knew she’d think I was stalking. She was the type who wouldn’t think to thank me even when I was saving her ass from a burglar.

I listened at the door, pressing my ear to the wood. I heard a shuffling noise. Feet on the floor. No struggling, no crying. Good. Unless he killed her already, or knocked her out. The thought got my blood boiled. I stepped back, then laid a solid kick to the door. It flew open.

The living room was dark, the hall bright. It took a second for my eyes to adjust—when they did, I saw a dark figure jumping back in surprise. I lunged at it, not caring who it was or even if there was more than one person looking around. I saw red. I wanted to make him pay, whoever he was.

We fell onto the floor, me on top. I pushed myself up, hand on his throat to hold him steady. He was a big guy, but I had surprise on my side. I slammed my fist into his face once, twice.

He bucked me off so hard, I went flying. I was on my back, dazed, shaking my head. He got to his feet, kicking me in the ribs. Shooting pain. I rolled away, standing, facing him.

He breathed heavy behind a black ski mask. I saw his piercing eyes staring out at me, though, like two pieces of metal in the dark. I watched him move toward me—slowly. Very slowly. Sizing me up.

“Why don’t you get the hell outta here?” I growled. “If you didn’t take anything, no harm done. I won’t even go after you.”

He laughed, then moved surprisingly quick for a big guy. I barely jumped out of the way before he lunged for me. He hit the wall, books falling off a set of shelves there. A few of them hit him on the head. He cursed, kicking them aside.

“I tried to give you a chance. Remember that,” I said, then I flew at him. I took him down again, pinning him up against the wall. I took him by the shoulders, banging his head against it over and over until he went limp.

I got up, looking around the room. I wasn’t breathing heavy from the fight—it took almost nothing. He was out of shape, I wasn’t. It was the rage going through me. I had to hold it back, and it wasn’t easy to do.

I didn’t see Jess anywhere. The doors at the end of the hall were both open. I knew they were the bedrooms. She was in the bathroom, she’d told me. I didn’t see much damage, but then again, didn’t know how the place usually looked. I heard a groan from the floor. He was coming to, moving his head back and forth, muttering.

I went to him with my fists clenched, crouching in front of him. “Who the hell are you? Who do you work for?” I stared at his face, trying to see his eyes again. Gray. Like steel.

He wouldn’t say a word. I stood and kicked him in the ribs.

“How’s it feel?” I growled, then kicked him again. He groaned. “Tell me who sent you here, asshole.”

“My boss,” he muttered.

“What’s your boss’s name?”

“I don’t know.” Another kick. He curled up in a ball, holding his hands out to me. “Please, I mean it. I don’t know his real name. Nobody does. He has a million of ’em.”

“A million? Really? You want me to believe that?”

“He has a bunch of offices and a million names. If he finds out I told you about him, he’ll fucking kill me.” He sounded serious. I knew the sound of a man sure he was going to die.

“Okay. He’ll kill you. What the fuck do I care? You came here to kill her.” I crouched down, pressing my knee against his ribs. He cried out in agony.

“No! I wasn’t gonna kill her! I was gonna scare her, maybe steal somethin’ if she had anything worth stealin’. It don’t look like she does.”

He was right about that. “That’s all you were gonna do? Scare her? You weren’t gonna hit her or anything?” I picked up his head, bouncing it off the hardwood. He cried out again.

“I swear, man. I wasn’t gonna touch her. I don’t do shit like that. That’s what other guys do. Not me. I don’t hurt women.” He was babbling, desperate for me to believe him. I didn’t know whether I should.

“Okay, pal. I’ll let you go. I want you to promise me you’ll never come back here again. I swear to Christ, I’ll be waiting here for you if you do.”

“I won’t. I swear I won’t. I’ll just tell the boss I scared her and there wasn’t nothin’ worth stealin’. That’s not a lie.” No, and it wasn’t a lie that she was scared to death, either. He had done his job.

“Get the fuck outta here, asshole.” I got up, opening the door wider for him to crawl out. He literally crawled out on his hands and knees, whimpering like a little girl. I thought about calling the cops on him—they’d probably get there before he made it to the elevator, the rate he was going. But I thought I’d give him a break. I wanted him to make it back to his boss, anyway, to tell him Jess wasn’t alone in the world. She had somebody to protect her. He couldn’t pull his bullshit games with her and get away with it.

I closed the door and turned, going back into the apartment. I knew she would never feel safe there again. Right away, I told myself she could stay with me. No—she should stay with me. End of story. No arguments. She would argue, too, knowing her. I wondered how many more men breaking into her apartment it would take before she agreed that she needed help. I wondered if there were enough men in the world to convince her.

“Jess?” I knocked on the only closed door in the apartment. “It’s okay. You can come out now.”

“Are you sure?” Her voice sounded so scared, I wanted to bring the asshole back in and kick the shit out of him for making her feel that way. I would never stop. Not after what he did to her—and he didn’t even lay a finger on her. If he had, he’d already be dead.

“Yeah, I’m sure. He’s gone. He’s not coming back.” I waited for her to open the door. There was noise. She was climbing out of the tub, pulling the curtain back. A lock flipped, then another. The door swung open slowly. I stepped back to give her room—it was everything I could do to keep from jumping on her, taking her in my arms, promising her it would never happen again. I had already wanted her so much before she called. Knowing how much danger she was in only made her more desirable.

What I saw was enough to freeze me solid. She wasn’t alone. There was a kid in her arms, holding onto her for dear life. She wouldn’t look at me. Why wouldn’t she look at me? When did she have a fucking kid?

“Who is this?” I asked, pointing at it. I couldn’t even tell if it was a boy or a girl. I couldn’t see its face.

“My son.” She whispered it, almost sounding angry. Like she wanted me to try to fight her on it. I wasn’t trying to fight. I didn’t understand a damn thing that was happening.

“Yours and who else’s?” Jealousy rose in me, spreading through me. My fists clenched. Who was she with? I should’ve known—she ran away to be with somebody else. Yeah. The size of the kid told me they were old enough. The shit got her pregnant, then probably ran off on her. So that was why she borrowed the money, to take care of the kid. Why else would she do it? Not for herself. If it was only her, she could get a job anywhere. She had to take care of the kid first.

Everything made more sense all of a sudden, and none of it made me any happier. I couldn’t believe she had betrayed me like that. Never, in all the time we were together—from the minute we started dating—did I touch another woman. I had plenty of chances, too. Women threw themselves at me. They like my looks, my bike, my position in the club. I was the next president. Everybody knew it. Axel had groomed me from a young age to take over for him. I practically had to scrape girls off my bike so I could ride it.

It had never mattered. All I ever wanted was her. None of them came close to her, the way I felt about her. She was better than any of them—not just in bed, not just the way she looked. All of her. She had my soul. She was part of me. And she’d been fucking around on me.

How long? Who was it? I wanted to track the son of a bitch down and end his miserable life. The need for revenge brought the taste of blood to my mouth. I wanted to hurt somebody.

And she had the nerve to stand there looking scared and innocent. She brought every bit of it on herself. It was all her fault for leaving me to begin with. I wouldn’t have done that to her. I wouldn’t have gotten her pregnant and left her alone, like some fucking coward. I would’ve taken care of her until the day I died, with or without a kid. I was prepared to do that. With a kid, it would’ve meant even more.

She didn’t say anything to me. She only stared at me, arms still around the kid. The kid moved a little, picking up their head to turn and face me. Blonde hair, short. A boy.

He looked at me, and the whole world shifted. I remembered only feeling like that once before, when I walked through the door and found her letter…and her ring. I moved back, away from them, hitting the wall. I couldn’t catch my breath. I thought I might be having a heart attack, or a panic attack. Some kind of attack. Nothing made sense. Everything fell apart around me.

The kid only looked at me, not saying a word.

His eyes. My eyes. And my color hair. My nose, my chin.

What the hell was really happening?