Page 27 of Satisfied
“I’m okay,” I say, reaching over to take her hand and bring it to my lips as I turn back to the road, pushing down my concerns for now. I’ll wait until she’s fallen asleep tonight before I try something I’ve been thinking about. Although I didn’t want to explore this avenue, I intend to hack into Jack Midfield’s parents’ devices and see if they’ve had any communication. One way or another, I’ll get the fucker. For now, I focus on her. “Did you enjoy the cookout?”
“I did.” Abby beams. “It was so cool seeing all those tough guys with their families. Club life isn’t really what I thought it was.” She chuckles. “The food was to die for, and I’m glad I got to smooth things out with your sister. That was embarrassing for both of us.”
“She likes you.”
“I like her too,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “Do you guys do this every Sunday? The cookout?”
“The club hosts one on the last Sunday of every month. I don’t attend all of them, since I’m not a full member.”
“Would you like to be?”
I ponder her words, thinking about my motorcycle that’s already been ordered. It’s not a rule that you have to own a bike to be a member. It’s more of a lifestyle, though an enthusiasm for bikes is a big part of it.
Before I got entangled with the Rebels, I’d never considered joining a motorcycle club, but I’ve thought about it more over the last couple of months, and I believe I’m ready to take on more than just auxiliary roles for the club.
“Maybe in a couple months,” I tell Abby as we pull up to our building’s parking lot. “I’ve already placed an order for my motorcycle, and it could be a while before I get it. Even longer before I become a member of the club.” I park the car and step out, waiting for Abby to round the hood and then taking her hand as we head for the entrance.
“How do you become a member?” she asks as we walk into the lobby. Out of habit, I look around to make sure I don’t spot any unfamiliar faces, walking closer to Abby to cover her side. “Do you fill out an application form and then wait for the president to approve?”
I chuckle at the thought of Saint in his office flipping through application forms of people seeking to join the club. “No, I don’t know about other clubs, but to become a Rebel, you have to be invited or chosen by the existing members.”
“Wait, like they vote?” she asks as we step into the elevator, her curious eyes searching mine as I step in after her. “That’s so cool. Luckily for you, the members seem to like you.”
“Why do you think that?”
“They were all joking with you at the cookout. You would think they’d be wary of the guy who stole from them.”
The laughter that breaks out of me is as surprising as it is delightful, putting an air of ease into the moment, and maybe that’s why I let my guard down and loosen up a bit. I’m still laughing as we step out of the elevator and walk down the hall to our door. I’m turning the key when Abby’s scream tears through the air just as I’m hit with a searing pain, a shock that steals my breath.
“Ransom!”
My vision blurs, a kaleidoscope of colors swirling before my eyes, and I stumble, my knees buckling. I hit the ground hard, the world tilting. The attacker moves, and the world sharpens with horrifying clarity when I make him out. The manwho’s been causing Abby misery for weeks. He’s holding a bat, its polished wooden surface gleaming under the dim hallway light.
Fuck.
I dropped my guard, figured she was safe because we were in the building, but the fucker must have been waiting. So stupid of me to be so careless and put Abby in danger, and so fucking cowardly of this fucker to attack me from behind instead of facing me like a man. But then again, what do I expect from a man who hits women.
Fucking fuck!
“Go,” I croak out, the words ripping from my throat, a desperate plea. “Run, now!”
“Ransom!”
I fight the encroaching darkness, the urge to succumb. I can’t. Not now. Not with Abby in danger, crying out my name the way she is.
The fucker steps over me, and my blood runs cold as he moves toward her. I grab his shoe weakly, and his eyes shift to me, giving Abby precious seconds to rush into the apartment. The man yanks his leg from my grip with an annoyed hiss before walking into the apartment after Abby. I hear a door slam as my vision wavers, falling into darkness.
The next time I open my eyes, the man is pleading with Abby to open the bathroom door and let him in. I can just see his legs from where I lie in the entryway.
“Please, baby, I just want to talk,” the fucker says in a grating voice that gives me a bigger headache than the bump I feel at the back of my head. “Can you just come out so we can talk? Everyone back home is worried about you.”
“Just leave me alone, Jack.”
A growl is followed by a loud thud, and I imagine he just kicked at the door or wall. “Open the fucking door, Abby!” heyells, kicking at the door again. Then I hear him take in audible breaths, calmer when he speaks next. “Look, Abby, I know you’re worried that I’ll do something to you, but I swear I won’t touch you. What happened before was a mistake. The devil…yes, it was the devil who pushed me into sin, but see, I’m all better now. I promise you.”
“I’m calling the cops,” she says from the other side of the door.
I silently plead with her to call the Rebels instead. She has Kyle’s and Hound’s numbers on her new phone, and even CJ’s if she can’t reach them. The cops will arrest this man, but I know he’ll be out in a couple of hours. Restraining order or not, nothing will stop him from coming back. God, if I could just get to my feet, but my head swims and I nearly black out again when I try to stand.
