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Now I was alone, scared, and tired of running.
I missed my husband and daughter. I missed the club.
I knew I was risking everything by coming here, but I couldn’t do this by myself anymore. I refused to trust anyone again, and definitely not the police. If they found me first, they would run my fingerprints, would know I wasn’t who I was supposed to be, which would only bring more questions. Questions I couldn’t answer. Questions that would bring death and destruction. More importantly, those looking for me would know exactly where I was at.
Huddling, sandwiched between the brick wall and the dumpster, I wrapped my arms around my knees and waited as the night’s rain drenched me to the core. Something in my gut told me that he would be looking for me. Maybe it was wishful thinking or hope, but my gut told me he was out there, right now, searching for me.
That when he found me, he would help.
I loathed bringing my troubles to him, but I didn’t know who else to trust. I’d given myself to the man once, hoping he wouldlove me and protect me. I just prayed he felt the same way he did back then.
So much time had passed since we were last together, but seeing him at the hospital and the worry in his eyes, I knew I was right. My only deterrent was returning to the clubhouse. The one place I considered my home away from home. I loved everything about my life with the club. I loved the brothers, the family, the security they provided. Then one day it all disappeared because someone I should have trusted wasn’t who he seemed, and I allowed my fear to override all reason.
No matter how I looked at it, I had only two choices: keep running and let the chips fall where they lay or return home and accept my punishment for leaving them all, because if I didn’t do something soon, I would be lying next to my family in the morgue.
I don’t know how long I stayed huddled next to that dumpster, waiting for Caleb to help me or condemn me, but when I heard the pipes of his bike, something inside me cried out in relief.
He came for me.
“LARGO!” he shouted, as I heard his boots splashing through the puddles down the dark alley behind his building, Davenport Tower.
I loved this building.
I watched for months as he poured his heart, sweat, and tears into designing one of the city’s most exclusive buildings. When it was time to open the doors, I was beside him, supporting him when he cut the ribbon. My husband was an exceptional architect and designer. One of the city’s best, and I was so fucking proud of him.
“Largo, honey!” I heard Fury shout.
“Where is she?” Malice asked. “Shame said she’d be here.”
“Largo,” Mercy clearly said. “Baby, it’s me. Come out. I’m here, sweetheart.”
I don’t know why I didn’t run to him. Every fiber of my being urged me to move. To leave my hiding spot and beg his forgiveness, but I couldn’t get my legs to move.
Fear froze me to my spot.
Fear he would walk away.
Fear he would turn me in.
Fear he would kill me.
Quickly covering my mouth, I tried to hold back my fears when a whimper escaped, and that’s when I knew I had just given my hiding spot away.
“Sweetheart,” he whispered, kneeling before me. “It’s me, honey. It’s me.”
Shaking my head, I cried, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Gathering me in his arms, he cradled me close to him as he stood. “Malice, take my bike back to the clubhouse. Fury, help me get her into the truck.”
“I’ll do it,” I heard Montana growl as he walked over.
“Couldn’t let me handle this, could you?”
Montana said nothing when he stared at Caleb.
“Fine, but you’re driving,” Caleb growled.
Montana threw his keys to Fury. “Get back to the clubhouse. Tell Bane he’s needed.”
