Raw: The Ultimate Mc Collection (36 page)

“I didn’t fucking sell you!  I told you that - I —,”

“—you rented me?  What the fuck does even mean?” I screamed. 

“Look, you really think you want the truth? You think you’re old enough now that you can just escape and start over?  You’re nothing without me, Lacey!  Nothing, you understand?!”  she was in my face, as much as she could be as I towered over her. 

The two men were standing by the door, blocking any escape I might attempt, watching our fucked up scene play out in front of them, a look of shock on their faces.

“You want the truth, you little bitch?” she continued.  “I gave you to Monty because I knew he could make more money off your sorry ass than I could.  He had rich friends, I didn’t.  He lent you out to them, and he split the fee with me.  Sure, he thought he was buying you fair and square, but after the first time, I went back to him, and…
renegotiated
…our agreement.” She paused, her eyes peering into mine searchingly.  “I blackmailed him.  He gave me a cut of the profits, or I’d leak it to the press. He was about to run for Mayor, it was the last thing he could afford getting out about him, and he caved.  It was quite easy, actually.  I should have done it from the beginning, but it all worked out in the end.”

“Oh, did it?” I asked, sarcastically.  “For who? You?  Monty? You certainly weren’t concerned about me. Fuck you!”

“Oh, but, baby, don’t you see?  Everything I’ve ever done was for you!  I only wanted the best for you, that’s why I pushed you so hard.  I knew you could be successful with Monty, that’s why I sent you to live with him.  I wanted you to be comfortable and live a life of luxury…the life I never had.  I didn’t want to see you struggle the way you made me struggle.”

“Life of luxury? I made you struggle?! Are you out of your fucking mind?  You turned me into a whore, Mom!  A fucking whore!”

“Oh, baby, you are just looking at everything wrong.  There’s nothing wrong with a woman using her body to help her get through life.”

My blood ran cold, and my fists clenched at my sides, the words scraping from my throat like they were clawing their way through the depths of all the pain I had stuffed away.

“I wasn’t using my body, Mom.  I was forced.  I was raped!  They took it all from me, Mom.  You took it all from me.”

“No, baby, you took it from me!  Before I got pregnant with you, I was beautiful, I had a future.  But no, your loser father knocked me up and left me and what was I stuck with?  A crying baby, and a ruined body!  My future flew out the window when you were born.  You were my only hope, Lacey, don’t you see?  If I couldn’t succeed with you, then I couldn’t succeed.  And then what did you do?  You ungrateful little bitch, you just decide you can refuse to follow our dreams, just turn your back and decide you didn’t want to do it anymore? You couldn’t play by the rules, could you?”

“What rules, Mom?  The rules of you constantly high on coke and blowing the judges to fix the pageants?”

“I was just trying to help.  You threw it all away, Lacey.  So, no, I didn’t take anything from you - I did no such thing.  I helped you.  Just like I’m going to help you now, baby.”

“You aren’t doing a fucking thing to help me now, and you never have.”  My eyes trailed down to her throat, and the urge to wrap my fingers around it overwhelmed me.

“Oh, baby, yes I can!  Monty’s dead now!  Well, of course you know that, don’t you?  I must admit, baby, I was a little surprised to learn you killed him.  So violently, too!  But the bastard deserved it, didn’t he?  He was a bit of prick, wasn’t he?  Waste of good pair of shoes, though,”  she said, her voice slicing through me.  “Anyway, that’s all water under the bridge, isn’t it?  The thing is…Monty and I had an agreement. If anything ever happened to him, you belong to me again.”

I shook my head, the full realization of just how fucking crazy she really was finally dawning on me.

“You’re insane,” I whispered. “I’m free now.  Free from you.  Free from Monty…free from that fucking awful life that you condemned me to.”

“No, baby, no….you see, that’s not how this is going to work.  I gave birth to you, Lacey.  That counts.  That counts big time.  You can’t just walk away from me.  I own you. I'm your mother.  I’ve always owned you.  Not Monty.  Me,” she reached up to touch my face again, and I slapped her hand away harder this time.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”  I screamed, stepping away from her, my voice high and panicked.

“Lacey!  You fucking listen to me, you little bitch!”

“Why should I?” I said, stepping back to her, leaning down, my face mere inches from hers.  “You’re a fucking pathetic mess.  I’m not afraid of you anymore.  I used to be, sure, but I’m bigger than you now.  I’m older, I’m smarter.  I don’t have to put up with your shit…with anyone’s shit.  You have no fucking hold on me anymore, Mom.”  I shook my head.  “Not Mom. Never Mom. I’m fucking out of here.”

I turned toward the door, the two goons staring at us, both of them looking even more shocked at the ugly mother-daughter reunion.

“Lacey, you aren’t going anywhere.  Not yet.” I heard the gun cock, and I turned back to see her pointing it straight at me.  “Not till you put this dress on and then we are both going to present you with your new owner.”

Her words stopped me in my tracks.  I shook my head slowly, her intentions slowly sinking in.

“You were planning to sell me again?”  I whispered incredulously.

“Well, like I said, not sell - just…rent,” she winked playfully, the gun still pointed straight at me.  She was so fucking lost in her own world, so far away from any normal sense of reality, that it was almost laughable.  If it wasn’t my fucking life we were talking about, that is.  “I have a very wealthy man waiting at the Hilton that’s shown some interest.  But you have to look your best! Hey, remember when we put your hair up in a French braid for the Miss Teen Oregon pageant, and you had those little tendrils left hanging around your face?  That was so classy, we should do that again.”

She rambled on aimlessly, and the world began spinning around me.

Was this really happening?
 I looked at the door, still blocked by her men, whoever they were.  
Bodyguards? Pimps?  Were they planning on taking a turn with me, too?

“No. I don’t think so,”  I replied, shaking my head as I turned my gaze on the bed.

“Lacey, you will do as I say, or else!”

“Or else what?  You’re going to shoot me?  You’d be destroying your meal ticket, if you did that, wouldn’t you?”  I asked, realizing she wouldn’t dare shoot me, as I picked up the pair of red stilettos off the bed, and turned back to her.

“You’ll do as I say, Lacey, or Ronnie and Eddie here will make you.”

“Don’t you understand, Mom?” I asked, closing the distance between us, the gun pressing against my chest, cold and hard. “Nobody makes me do anything any more.  I’m not your little girl anymore.”

I’m not sure what I was thinking, if I was thinking, if I was even capable of coherent thoughts at this point, but in a split second, my arm raised up, knocking the gun from her hand, and sinking the stiletto into her neck all in one smooth movement.  Her eyes widened in surprise, and dark ribbons of blood began spurting out of her neck as I sank it in a second time and pulled it out again.

She fell to the ground, and I fell on top of her, my arm flailing, up and down, in and out, her neck and face slathered in thick, sticky, warm blood.  The shoe fell from my hands, the heel almost broken off, dangling from the shoe like a broken limb.  I picked up the other shoe from the ground where I had dropped it, and using all the force that my body would allow, stabbed it right into her eye.

“Stop fucking looking at me!” I screamed at her ugly dead eyes.  “I fucking hate you!  You ruined me!” 

The words bubbled from me as I continued stabbing her, over and over as she lay dead below me.

“Fuck this shit, I’m outta here, man,” one of the men at the door said.

“Yeah, I didn’t sign up for a fucking murder,” the other man snarled, turning to the door.

I didn’t hear them.

I was still screaming.  Still stabbing.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Riot

I paced the parking lot like a hungry lion.  The hour passed by in a blur of frustration.  By the time I felt the vibrating roar of the entire herd of the God’s bikes approaching, I was wound up like a cobra ready to strike.

“Holy shit,” Diana whispered as the Gods turned into the parking lot.  “The cavalry has arrived.”

“You’d best get in your car and get out of here,” I said to her.

“Are you fucking kidding?  This is the best break I’ve ever gotten on a story.  I’m filming this shit,” she said, pulling a camera from her trunk.

She had explained herself during the wait, told me how she had friends on the Portland police force, and that Grace was a kind of revered legend, the work she was doing, while still very hush-hush, was still whispered about.  When Diana found out about the Mayor’s slaying, and that a young woman was the suspect, she had ventured out to Tillamook on a hunch.  A hunch that had paid off in a big way.

“I don’t think so,” Slade said, as he walked up to us, the first one off his bike.

“No filming during club business, miss,” he smiled at her, using charm instead of force, just like he always did when he wanted a woman to do something.  “Probably best you stay in the car, okay?”

And just like always, Diana fell for it.  Her eyelashes fluttered, she began stuttering and she put her camera back in the trunk, walking to the side of the car as if in a trance.

I shook my head, and walked right over to Ryder, as Slade followed.

“They’re in Room 117.  It’s been quiet so far.  I can’t see through the curtains, but the reporter says she’s positive that’s the room.  The car’s parked over there.  Definitely not cops.”

I didn’t wait for him to reply, I just turned and started toward the door.

“Wait, Riot! Goddammit!”

I thundered back to him.

“I’ve waited long enough!  It’s time to fucking get in there, for fuck’s sake!” I growled, not caring anymore that he was my President.  All I cared about was Lacey.  “What would you do if that was Grace in there?”

“I wouldn’t let Grace get in that situation in the first place,” he replied, his lips drawn tight and angry across his face.

“Yeah, well, not everyone is fucking perfect like you, Ryder.  I fucked up, okay?  I let her get under my skin, and now I’m paying for it, alright?  Do you see me, man? Do you fucking see what I’m going through?” I yelled.

“Yeah, brother,” Ryder replied, his eyes narrowing.  “I see you. I get it, but we need a fucking plan first.  You’re not alone in this, Riot. We’re a fucking brotherhood, or did you forget that?” Slade, Zander, Doc, and Thorn stood behind Ryder, reminding me of who I was.  He was right.  He was always right.  The man of few words, and yet, the best thoughts.

“Okay, man, you’re right,” I nodded.

“So, we’re looking at two men for sure, and maybe more.  Zander and Doc you go to the left side of the door, Thorn and I will go the right.  Riot, you knock, and don’t stand in front of the fucking door, whatever you do. Slade, keep an eye on the other rooms and watch our backs.  As soon as the door opens, we barrel in and take out anyone between us and Lacey.”

I nodded, my body ready to come apart at the seams.

“Let’s do this shit,” Slade said.

We surrounded the door. Six guns cocked, drawn, ready to fire.  As long as Lacey or one of my brothers didn’t get hit, I didn’t give a shit what happened to anyone.

I raised my fist to the door, and before I could knock, I heard Lacey’s screams, and then the door opened.

The first man walked out, and Slade put a bullet in his head right away.  He fell to the ground in a heap.  His partner followed, with Zander’s bullet slicing through his head, leaving a bloody trail on the door as he fell on top of the other guy.

I ran in the room, and stopped in my tracks.

Lacey was covered in blood, leaning over a woman’s body, gripping a broken, bloody shoe, her arm flailing up and down, slicing into the woman over and over.

I ran to her, grabbed her, but she was frantic, hysterical.  Her eyes were wild, and the Lacey I knew wasn’t there.  This was someone else, a wild animal trapped in a cage, clawing frantically as they tried to escape.

She swung at me but I ducked, the shoe slicing through the air over my head.