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s of his own gang to come and deal with this shit.
I heard, “Cross, need some help at the house.” There were a few more mumbled words and then he shoved the phone into his back pocket.
“It doesn’t sound to me like you called the police.” Arms crossed, I stared at him, demanding an explanation with my silence.
“The club can handle it.”
I could tell by his expression that he believed it, but they were his friends not mine. The Reckless Bastards hadn’t earned my loyalty yet.
“No offense but I don’t need this handled that way. He broke in and I defended myself, end of story.”
“The cops will never believe—”
“I’ll make them believe it and that’s that. Don’t even think about going behind my back on this.” My biggest fear in all of this was that when the dust settled I’d still be running from Genesis. I couldn’t let that happen. No matter what.
“I need you to trust me, to trust us on this.”
I shook my head, letting him know just how impossible an ask it was.
“I don’t. I’m sorry but I don’t and I can’t afford to. Your friends have made it clear how they feel about helping me and I’m fine with that, but that means I get to decide how I handle the shit that happens to me.”
I poked him in his chest just to make sure he got the message.
“Only that baby in your belly means it happens to me too, don’t you forget that!”
A knock on the door had us both jumping apart and staring as Cross entered the house with who I assumed to be Jag and Savior.
“Are we interrupting?” one of them said.
“Like it matters,” I mumbled, bending to pick up my phone and call the police. “Lasso made a mistake calling you, the police will be here soon.”
Cross, in a show of power, stared at me and took a seat in the living room while Lasso and his friend followed suit. “We’ll wait with you. Just to be safe.”
It didn’t matter. Not to me anyway. I knew Lasso was pissed about their reluctance to help but it was easier for me on my own. I didn’t have to consult anyone else on my plans and I could leave whenever I wanted. Now I had ties, dammit. “Do whatever you want,” I shrugged.
***
The phone rang, making me drop a stitch in the new booties I was knitting for the Olympic soccer player growing in my belly, at least that was what he or she was practicing for today. I ignored the phone because I didn’t want to talk to anybody.
The ringing stopped for about thirty seconds before it started up again. And again. And again. My patience was so fucking close to snapping that I yanked the phone off the table and answered without looking at the screen. “Yeah?”
“Come home and your boyfriend lives.”
Genesis. “Fuck off.” I hung up the phone and let out a primal scream that was so filled with pain and frustration there was a good chance it would split me in half. I couldn’t let him get to me because that was what he wanted, to get in my head. To make me afraid.
The ringing started up again and I let it ring because I couldn’t decide what was the better option, the incessant fucking trill of my old school ringtone or Genesis and his pathetic words. I answered when it rang again because I knew it wouldn’t stop, not until he said what he had to say.
“What?”
“Remember when we went to Catalina for the first time? You squealed like a little girl at the glass bottomed boat.” This was the calm before the storm Genesis, where he pretended everything was all right and that he was a normal sane man.
“I remember.” It started out as a great little getaway. “I also remember you losing your shit because a guy offered to buy me a drink. And you ruined the rest of the weekend because you turned into an overly aggressive alpha dick to everyone. Me included.”
He growled until it became an all-out roar. “You always remember the bad shit!”
I laughed. “Because it was all bad shit with you, Genesis. You’re unstable and insecure and I’m not interested.” Five. Four. Three. Two.
“Then you both will fucking die!” There he was. The unstable asswipe I was used to dealing with. “That’s too bad, Rochelle. We could have been good together.”
