Page 76 of Claim Me

This strike is against my knee, taking me to the ground. The cops yank me back to my feet and then act as if they’re patting me down.

They keep yelling for me to stop fighting and demand I tell them about any weapons. Then, the baton strikes me again.

The cops want me to throw a punch. That’s why they haven’t cuffed me yet. They know we’re being recorded. When a cop tries to take someone’s phone away, other bystanders start arguing about their rights.

I sense Tommy knows the situation has gotten messy. Rather than shove me into the cruiser and take off, he loses his temper and swings wildly.

I struggle not to fight back. Taking a beating isn’t something I ever learned to do, but throwing a punch would give Tommy what he wants.

At first, I distract myself by imagining what Zoot will do to these fuckers. But that doesn’t calm my bloodlust enough.

Instead, I remember the first night at Caveman’s house. Dot got Bubby and me pajamas with feet on them. Lorrie was dressed in a long flannel nightgown. I don’t remember her ever looking as beautiful as she did that night. Even though I was in terrible pain and could barely see through my swollen eyes, I felt hopeful and loved.

With Siobhan, I feel that way every day. As Tommy brings the baton down on my body again, I imagine her before me. Siobhan smiles in that goofy excited way she gets.I’m the man she loves. She sees me and doesn’t look away.

My current pain is temporary. The love in Siobhan’s eyes will keep me warm for the rest of my life.

SIOBHAN

My hands shake as I race to Natasha’s house. So far, I’ve passed two police cruisers. One slows down as if to make a U-turn and follow me. I take the next right, zig-zagging my way back to Willow Brook and hoping to stay off their radar.

“How far out are you?” Natasha asks when I call her while waiting at a light.

“Ten minutes. Traffic is a beast. I might have a cop tailing me.”

“Security is ready to handle them.”

Though I’d love a pep talk from Natasha, I know the kids will hear me freaking out and react accordingly. Right now, they’re quiet and sitting normally in their seats. Kiera calmed down Deirdre while Glen soothed Nora. They currently stare out their windows, likely looking for police.

“Daddy!” Kiera calls out as we near our neighborhood.

I notice Sync speeding by in the opposite direction.

“He’s going to help Indigo,” I tell the girls who twist around to see him disappearing into traffic. “Everyone in the club is going to help him.”

My stomach aches when I think of those fucking assholes hitting Indigo. Tears burn the back of my eyes, but I don’t dare cry.

Another motorcycle flies past me on the opposite side of the road, heading toward the Play Hut. I only get a glimpse, but I suspect it’s Tack.

With the Backcountry Kings in play, my job is to get the kids to Natasha’s house.

Entering my neighborhood, I spot two patrol cars parked at separate street corners. I tell the kids to hide. I also scoot lower as I pass the cruisers.

My heart races. My stomach feels tight. The baby kicks wildly. I rub my belly and stay focused. We’re only blocks from Natasha’s place. The kids remain hidden. I hear the twins whispering to each other about Sync.

In my rearview, I see the cruisers’ lights start flashing. The two cops race to catch up to me. My inner speed demon takes charge, and I hit my gas pedal. I take a shortcut, looping around before reaching Natasha’s block. The cop might know where I’m going because hedoesn’t follow me, instead taking the more obvious route to the house. My shortcut allows me to reach the open gates a few seconds before the cops turn the corner.

Security waves me into an empty spot in the garage. As the door lowers behind us, a black-clad security guy gestures for me to exit my SUV. I guide the children inside where Natasha meets me in the kitchen.

“This is madness,” she says and hugs me. “Bear got the call. He’s on his way to the Play Hut. Don’t worry.”

Jacinda and Hector welcome their friends and promise everything will be okay.

“Bear ride away,” Jacinda tells them. “He is very strong.”

I smile at Natasha, but the tears still fight to break free. “They were hurting him,” I whisper. “They tried to stop me and take the kids.”

One of the security men enters. His expression is dire as he speaks to Natasha in their native Czech tongue. She replies in a curt tone bordering on hostility. The man nods and returns outside.

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