Page 2 of Arrow: Riding Rebels MC

“Are you calling me stupid? I know where it is, but I want to know why it isn’t on the table.”

I couldn’t get an answer out before I was tasting blood.

Gideon flung me from the bed, and I hit the side of our dresser. My neck snapped back, and I rolled over onto my back. He didn’t know it, but Gideon was feeding right into my plan. I just needed to get to the closet. If I could get to it without passing out, then my baby and I would be on our way out of this hell.

I looked up and made tears form, and he smiled.

“I would never call you stupid.”

God must have really wanted me to sell it because I was hyperventilating.

“Nah. I think you like when I beat your ass because you’re always talking slick at the mouth.” I tried to sit up but was pushed right back down. “You know, I could kill you and no one would question where you went. You’d be looked at like an unfit mom and wife. Don’t play with me, Cecilia, because I could really fuck up your life, baby.”

“You mean more than you already have?”

Gideon’s body went still as he stared at me while my lips parted because, had I really just said what I’d been thinking?

The pain I was in was now an afterthought. I scrambled to my hands and knees, then bolted for the closet. I had just a few more feet to go before I was snatched in the air by my hair. My screams fell on deaf ears as my husband of seven years beat on me like I was a grown man his exact size. I needed to fight for my baby and me, so for the first time since the beatings started, I hit his ass back. Stunned, Gideon dropped me, and I took off on a full sprint toward the closet.

I’d gotten my hand wrapped around the metal bat just as he pulled on my ankle and yanked me toward him.

“Bitch, are you crazy?”

A blow to my stomach knocked the wind out of me, but I recovered quickly.

“Only because you made me this way!” I brought the bat down and started swinging.

So much blood and sweat filled my eyes, so I couldn’t see where my blows were landing, but I was making enough contact for Gideon to let me go. His screams and metal against bone were like music to my ears. After years of abuse, I was finally getting my lick back, but there was no way I could stand around to enjoy it because it was time to go.

Gideon groaned, chuckled, then said, “I hope you’re ready to die. You think you can do this to me and live—” He fell into a coughing fit, and I used what little strength I had to roll over onto my stomach.

The pain felt worse than it had ever before, but I clenched my teeth and pushed through.

Gideon was still moaning, but I could sense that he hadn’t moved. Once I was on my feet, I turned in his direction and swiped the wetness from my forehead and eyes. I had him down, so the correct thing to do would have been to grab my son and run, but years of abuse taught me to either kill him or knock him out.

For good measure, I hit him once in the stomach, in both kneecaps, and his hands.

“Now, who’s the bitch?” I dropped the bat, and my shoulders fell.

I had to fight the urge to do more damage to him because Gideon needed to feel what I’d felt all these years, but I had my son to think about. There were three bags tucked in Hendrix’s closet full of things he and I would need while we were trying to get away. My movements weren’t as fluent as I needed them to be, and every time I inhaled, I hissed.

“Oh, my sweet boy,” I whispered as I entered his room.

I kissed his forehead and was disgusted at the sight of the blood I’d left behind.

“Come on, mommy’s baby. It’s time to go before daddy wakes up and takes me away from you for good.” For the first time all night, my tears were real. “I’m so sorry.” I sobbed into his little neck.

I got Hendrix settled into his car seat, grabbed the three bags, and headed for the top of the stairs.

Every fiber of my being wanted to go back and check to make sure Gideon was still down, but I couldn’t risk it. It took melonger than it should have for me to get downstairs. I had three hundred thousand dollars in one of the duffel bags and an early 2000s four-door sedan. I was leaving everything behind.

Gideon and his people would find me—there was no question about that—but I wasn’t about to make it easy.

“All right, Henny. Mommy needs to stop and rest here.”

I parked on the side of the road under a tree.

This wasn’t ideal with an infant, but I needed some rest. Based on the clock in the car, I’d been on the road now for only two hours. My swollen eyes were heavy, and the more minutes that passed, the harder it was to keep my eyes open. I was low on gas, but there was still a slight chill in the air, and I had to keep us warm. For about five seconds, I contemplated leaving Hendrix in the back seat while I stayed up front, but I needed him in my arms.

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