Page 42 of Towles

Manning didn’t budge, but he knew Beast was right. I walked right by him and his deputies.

“April,” I said when I got to holding. I was surprised to see her so calm. I held a finger to my lips for her to stay quiet. “I’m going to get you out, and then we can talk about what’s happening. Manning doesn’t know shit.”

Waters came back with a deputy, who unlocked the cell.

“You okay?” April asked.

“Never better.” I grabbed her hand and led her outside. Beast and Watcher followed.

There was nothing I could do for Rose at county, so we returned to the club. On the way, April wrapped her arms around my waist, reminding me I had a purpose. Reminding me it was okay to fall apart a little.

15

April

Iwalked into the house and left the two Prospects outside. I hated having babysitters, but I understood what the club was trying to do. The only person to ever pose a danger to me was dead, killed by the man I now loved. I felt like the world was working in my favor, finally.

Police tape covered the entrance to Paul’s office. We were still married, so the house and everything he had were coming to me. Did I deserve all the money and all the stuff? Did I deserve the years of abuse?

I walked upstairs and grabbed a suitcase from the closet. I laid it on the bed and stopped in front of the mirror on the bedroom vanity. I sat in the chair and began brushing my hair, watching the woman in the mirror, who was no longer afraid of the man who used to walk up behind her and do as he pleased without ever pleasing her. I wished I could feel something other than relief from his death.

Did I now have the happiness I’d been wanting? I put the brush away and started packing jeans, tees, panties and bras, and sexy lingerie Paul never knew I had.

Of course, there would be lots of questions about Paul’s death. Me riding around on the back of Ethan’s bike didn’t help matters. I didn’t care. That was the life I wanted, and I deserved the things I wanted.

I put a bag of toiletries in the suitcase and found a perfume I thought Ethan would adore. I took nothing else. When the time came, I’d sell the house, the cars, and Paul’s stocks. Especially the stocks, since they always came before me.

Before I left the room, I sat on the bed and looked around. Something was wrong. The house seemed different. I stood and checked the bathroom. Piss floated in the toilet. Paul, OCD, never forgot to flush. And the seat was down.

I returned to the bedroom and heard a faint noise in the downstairs kitchen. The Prospects? Ethan had changed his mind and decided to check on me? The thought gave me a smile. Maybe he’d fuck me hard on a bed that never saw a hard fuck.

I went down the steps, avoiding the one step that creaked, and looked around the corner when I reached the bottom—nothing in the kitchen. I then turned the corner and saw two figures sitting on the couch in the living room.

“Hello? Ashtray?”

“Not a chance.”

A light came on, and I froze. Rose sat on the couch, and the man next to her had a gun pointed at her head. Skittles was right. The MC is a gift that keeps on giving. Last night’s gift had been amazing. This? I suspected this was what I could expect on a regular basis.

“Say a word. Scream. Fart. I’ll kill her.” He stood and waved me into the living room with his gun. “Your guys are off on a wild goose chase. Here’s what we’re gonna do, bitch. You’re going to sit right there next to sweet little Rose and keep your cunt mouth shut.” He had Rose’s phone in his hand. “Give me your phone, bitch.”

I handed the man my phone and glanced toward the front door—too far to run.

“That would be a mistake,” the man said. “You’d get you both killed.” He chuckled and nodded at Paul’s office. “Wouldn't be the first person you got killed in this house.” He grinned. “That’s right. I know what you and that muscle-bound asshole did.”

“What do you want?” I asked quietly. “I can help you.”

“You can’t help shit, lady.” He motioned for me to sit next to Rose, and I did.

“Tyson, let her go,” Rose said. “She didn’t do anything to you.”

“Right, Rose. I’m taking out your entire fucking family. You don’t walk out on me.” Tyson ran his fingers through his hair. He sniffed several times and grunted. Staying with Ethan meant always having men like Tyson around. The club attracted bad people the way candy attracted kids.

Tyson pulled a small baggy from his pocket and sat the gun on the table. Rose and I glanced at each other. The table was too far for us to reach the gun. Tyson dumped the white powder on the table. I’d never done Coke; my only experience with it was seeing people on TV make lines with a credit card. Tyson didn’t bother with a card. He snorted the messy pile and yelled like a madman. He punched the TV, and blood broke through his knuckles.

“You’re in my home,” I said. “Please leave.”

Tyson chuckled and grabbed the gun. He flipped the table over. Perfect. Paul loved the table. He pointed at me. “I’m going to text your old man and have him meet you here. Tell him there’s a fine piece of cunt waiting on him.” He typed the message and hit send. He smirked and pointed at me. “This was your husband’s home.”

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