Page 73 of Harper's Song

25

Harper

It’s not easy holding onto to hope or even anger when you’re chained to a bed, alone in an empty, dark house where no one can hear you scream. Especially not when you’re expecting the worst because you already know it’s going to happen.

The pins and needles in my arms and legs gave way to cramps, then numbness. It was in the cramps stage that fear took over, no matter how much I tried to fight it.

I slept, but only after I willed myself to think of nothing but the last week Jax and I spent at the country house, reliving every moment. The birdsong and soft morning sunshine that woke me. The kisses that followed. The songs that flowed out of me, all perfectly in sync with the natural beauty all around us and the pureness of our love. His strong arms around me as we watched the sunset every night. And the fire warming my naked skin after we’d made love until we couldn’t anymore.

Will we ever have that again?

If by some miracle I get out of these chains before it’s too late, I’ll make sure that’s all our life will be from now until forever. Just love and beauty and peace.

Scraping against the door wakes me in the dead of night. Cold air is coming in through the open window and it’s so dark I can barely make out the door.

Which is slowly opening. The hallway on the other side is dark too, but what little light there is catches on the silver sequins on Cherry’s shirt.

She’s barefoot, walking on tiptoes as she enters the room. She puts her finger against her lips to signal me to be quiet as I move to look at her and the chains rattle.

She walks all the way to the bed and shows me a small gleaming metal key, points at my chains and mimics unlocking them, then signals me to be quiet again.

As if I’d make a peep and jeopardize this, my most burning wish come true.

Outside the window a diffused band of silver is starting to push up the darkness. Sunrise will follow and I will be free to watch it. Just like I dreamed.

Then the roar of bikes rends the nighttime silence before Cherry’s even done unlocking the first of the chains holding me tight. The bikes come out of nowhere when they come. That’s what it always seems like. I never hear them approach, only hear them when they’re already here. As though they ride in from some underground lair or something.

“Hurry,” I tell her but her hands are shaking so hard she can’t fit the key in the lock.

The bikes have stopped downstairs and the thunderous sound is just echoes now, the dust a cloud obscuring the beautiful silver light outside.

She manages to unlock both my wrists before the door crashes open and Reggie is standing there, flanked by two men, followed by many.

“You stupid old whore,” he yells at Cherry, runs at her and grabs her by the hair. He punches her in the face three times fast then hurls her at the wall.

She hits it with a thud and slides down, her eyes shut, her face bloody, her body lifeless.

“You psychotic fucking asshole!” I scream at him.

His chest is heaving and his eyes are shooting pure black hatred as he advances on me.

“You don’t know the half of it,” he whispers.

And I’m sure he’s telling me the absolute truth. The rest, I don’t ever want to find out.

* * *

Jax

Two vans, ten guys. That’s what we took. Ice, Tank and Ace came with us. So did Chance, Ruin, Creed and Edge. And Grizzly who told me in no uncertain terms that we’ll be having words later over me taking Harper away while she was on his watch. That won’t be a fun conversation. But it’s the least of my worries.

Ten of us should be enough to check out an empty farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, on arid ground, bordered by a sorry excuse for a mountain range and a pine tree forest. The house is one of those wooden, two-story houses straight from Wild West, frontier times with a porch in front and lacy curtains on the windows. But as run down and abandoned as they come.

We parked at the edge of the forest, about half a mile from our actual destination according to the coordinates, along a narrow country road that looked like it hadn’t been used in years. Tufts of grass grow out of the cracks in it, tall and lush, and even a tiny pine tree here and there. Nature taking its own back.

Then we took a hike through the forest. And reached this dark farmhouse just as dawn was breaking somewhere behind those rocky, crumbly mountains beyond it. With the possible exception of Chance, there’s a lot of bad blood under the bridge that’s my relationship with the guys here. And the rest of the Devils for that matter. But somehow I felt it clearing as we trudged beneath the trees to reach our dark and quiet destination.

But before Tank was done laying out the best approach plan, a roaring snake of bikes came over the mountain and down a dusty, winding path straight to the front door.

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