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“Then I’m coming with you. You’re not doing this alone.”
No way. “Em, Slash would be pissed. So would your parents. You can’t.”
She popped a hip and shook a finger at me. “The hell I can’t. I won’t leave you alone for that abusive prick to come after you.”
She wasn’t going to listen. I needed to form a plan because I didn’t know Fred’s current mood. He was unpredictable.
“How about you walk with me to the house? I’ll go in alone in case he’s cranky, and you wait by the back porch. If he’s calm, no worries. You won’t have to come in.”
“And if he’s not?”
“Then you call Slash and ask for help.”
“Fine.” She walked to her closet and pulled out a couple of thin jackets that would cover our club attire. The less attention we attract right now, the better. “Here. Put this on.” She handed me one and shrugged on the other, zipping it up until her flashy silver top and short skirt were concealed.
I zipped the blue jacket over my clothes and grabbed my purse, lifting the strap to cross over my chest. My phone vibrated again as another text came through. I typed a quick reply and hit send before stuffing it inside my purse. “Let’s go.”
“Wait. I want you to put Slash’s number in your phone.”
“Why?”
“Because if shit goes down and something happens, he can help. His club, the Feral Rebels MC, they’re the type of guys you want on your side. Slash will know what to do if you call.”
“Okay.” I added his number and saved it to my contacts.
We left Embry’s house and walked to mine at a brisk pace. I knew the longer it took me to arrive, the more fired up Fred would become. The text that I sent would help, but he would expect me to arrive within minutes, so I didn’t delay, hoping I could smooth things over fast and rejoin Em.
“Wait out back,” I whispered, gesturing to the gate. “I won’t be long.”
“Wait,” she hissed, ticking her chin toward the car in my driveway. “Who’s here?”
I didn’t recognize the sleek black Jaguar parked on the driveway. Five motorcycles were lined up on the front lawn. Fred didn’t know any bikers, and I’d never seen any come to the house. “I’m not sure.”
“Shit, Molls.” Embry’s eyes widened. “I don’t like this.”
“I have to go in. Maybe he’s so busy with whoever is here that he’ll be distracted.”
She looked doubtful. “I’m texting Slash.”
I bit my lip and nodded. “Okay. That’s probably a good idea.” Squaring back my shoulders, I left Em in the shadows and marched up the front steps, rushing into the house. The door smacked shut behind me as I entered.
Nothing could have prepared me for what awaited as I stood in the living room, staring at my stepfather as two bikers held him up. Fred’s limp body concealed the extent of his wounds until one of the bikers gripped his hair and yanked his head back.
I gasped when I saw his ballooned, blackened eye, split lip, and bruised face. His cheek was swollen, and a lump was forming on his jaw. He looked disheveled and groaned as I took a step back, fearful of the bikers and what they intended.
A hard body cut off my retreat as I smacked into it, spinning to stare at three more bikers. They all wore leather vests like the one I’d seen Slash wear, but these had different emblems: a blade and a coiled serpent.
“You must be Molly.”
I swallowed as I noticed the man sitting on our couch. He wore a dark suit and shiny black designer shoes. His dark hair had been slicked back. I could smell his heavy cologne from where I stood and nearly gagged. His arms rested on the back of the couch as he stared at me with dark, cold eyes. Black. Nothing like Slash’s eyes that held warmth like simmering coals.
His lips curled into a cruel smile. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” I whispered, clearing my throat before I spoke louder, “I’m Molly.”
“Good girl.”
I flinched at his awkward praise.
