Page 115 of Where We Promise

“I want to wait here with my friends. Jamie will understand.”

Miles, the only man I had ever known as a father figure, softened his features as if he understood. I was about to explain that he could help keep watch when he suddenly pulled Connor from my arms.

My gasp was short-lived as he put his finger to his mouth as if to tell me to shut up.

Mouth snapping shut, I glared as he held my son from me.

“Now come with me.”

I followed him watching my son, keenly aware that one wrong move might mean his life. We’d gone through a thin door, nearly naked to the eye. I would have never found it on my own on this side. On the outside, it merely looked like siding from the clubhouse. The door clicked back into place as Miles held my son and gripped my elbow.

“Why are you doing this? You were family to me, Miles.”

He kept his gaze forward as we walked. “You know my first love has always been this club. Tuck was always the president we were supposed to have. Getting him out of prison was a huge task, and when Fable managed to do it, we were all excited about the prospect of a new chapter starting for all of us original members who remembered what it was like in the old days.”

My letters. I felt so stupid.

“Did you tell Tuck what I wrote to you?” I glared up at him, and he looked over his shoulder for a brief second.

“He asked to see them…the way you described the property, and clubhouse. You mentioned the back gate where the other members were. That and Jefferson helped fill in the gaps from what he could remember about this place. They upgraded all this recently, according to him, but this cellar hasn’t changed. We hadn’t even considered hitting this place until your letter arrived, they were an inspiration. Especially after we heard that you had Luke’s kid.”

I was going to be sick.

All of this…everything, it was all my fault.

We strode around the house as silence fell between us. Betrayal had any words I might have had for Miles turning to ash in my mouth. I was so angry with him, with myself. I thought Miles was someone I could trust. My mother had trusted him…I even think she had loved him.

How could he—my feet nearly faltered as I froze in place and Miles had to drag me the rest of the way.

Tuck Holloway stood there waiting. His watery eyes dropped to the bundle in Miles’ arms and then swept over to me.

“Forgot what a looker you are, Penny.” Tuck trailed me from head to toe salaciously.

I cringed and fought to get out of Miles’ grip.

“Hand her the baby. We need to get this over with, fucking Death Raiders showed up to help them. Fable is going to murder Silas when he finds out he showed up to help.”

Miles locked eyes with me as he gently set my son back into my arms before turning back toward Tuck. “Fable didn’t ride with us…where is he?”

“Oh, he’s around…but Miles, why don’t you go ahead and lead the way so nothing happens to the little baby or your precious adopted daughter.”

Miles flicked a quick gaze to me, and then to Tuck. I wanted to tell him no, not to go…it was clearly a trap, but Miles merely turned on his heel and went anyway. Ten strides away from us, Tuck pulled out his gun and shot Miles in the back of the head.

I didn’t cry. I kept my face forward and pulled my son closer to my chest. Tuck had me alive and was parading me for the sake of Jamie. All I had to do was get to my husband and everything would be okay.

Tuck pushed my back with the barrel of his gun as I walked up the steps to the front of the house, and in through a damaged door. Glass was everywhere, tattered pool tables were flipped over, couches were shot to hell, and there were dead bodies everywhere. I caught sight of Silas Silva with a busted lip, and his gun pointed down at someone on the floor, right as I entered. Everyone seemed to freeze.

Where was Jameson? My eyes moved around the room frantically while I tried to keep my footing, so not to trip.

People lowered their guns and stared at Tuck when he started speaking.

“Jameson King. Tear off your president patch, throw it at my feet and I might let your bride walk away from this. The boy comes with me, no matter what, but I may spare your new, pretty wife.”

I heard shuffling from the side, and Jameson came into view. He was on the floor, bloody, covered in dust and debris, and…oh my god, he’d been shot.

Jameson slowly got to his feet, and then he limped over to us.

His eyes were wide with fear…there was something else there too. Like a silent goodbye.

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