This is how we do it. We pretend the world hasn’t gone absolutely fucking bananas, until maybe, for a second, it hasn’t.
I glance out the window as Reagan whisks the eggs. The paint is ugly and it’s loud. Reagan bumps her hip into mine and grins. “We’ll get this crazy, you know?”
“We?” I raise my brows.
She smirks. “Oh, hell yeah. She is messing with the wrong bitches.”
I laugh. “You’re not wrong.”
I look at Travis, who’s already got the frying pan going, and he juts his chin at me, a challenge and a promise all at once.
Yeah.
We’ll get her.
Sipping my coffee, I tip my head to the side, wondering what the commotion is outside. Up until now, it has been a quiet morning. I came to see Chief before helping Reagan move into her new apartment. He has just gone to speak to Bill, and they left for a ride. So, I expected full silence, but that isn’t what I hear.
The yard, empty, now fills with bodies. A lot of them.
Demon stands at the front, a grin on his face so big it makes me freeze, coffee mug in hand.
“Chief, get your fucking ass out here!”
The bellow slices through the quiet. I move without thought, dropping my coffee before rushing out the door and stumbling onto the porch. There are too many men, and too many guns, and the feeling that creeps into my stomach is enough to make me want to vomit. My heart slams against my ribs.
Chief rounds the corner, and when his eyes land on me, his face drains of color.
“Mischief, fucking get out of here. Now!” he roars.
My legs stiffen and suddenly I can’t move, even though I really need to. Three of them detach from the group and surge forward. Panic sears through me, and I bolt down the steps toward my car. Freedom is a heartbeat away, until a hand clamps my arm. I spin and lash out, scratching and clawing at everything I can get my hands on.
Whoever is holding me curses and lets me go.
Relief flickers, until someone else takes his place. I kick, my feet hitting his shin, but his friends close in. Demon is standing, laughing, like a fucking wild maniac. He lifts a sleek pistol. I taste copper; I must have bitten down on my own tongue. Dread grips me. My eyes dart to Chief, guns pointed at his head. If I run, he dies.
They’re making sure I know that.
I stop fighting. Someone shoves me to the ground, gravel biting through my jeans. “I want you dead, Chief,” Demon taunts. “But I want you to watch your daughter suffer unimaginable pain first.”
“Let her go,” Chief snarls, chest heaving.
Demon kicks me in the ribs with steel-toed boots and my scream rips through the air as his second boot smashes down. Dirt and blood mingle in my scream.
“Stop. Fucking stop.” Chief’s cry echoes through the air.
“Just one more,” Demon grins.
He drags me up by my hair, and my scalp bursts into fire as he slams his fist into my face. Stars erupt behind my eyelids.
“Fucking stop!”
Chief’s roar is so loud, it breaks me into a million pieces.
Demon pauses. “Hurts, doesn’t it, Chief? When someone fucking destroys what you love.”
Chief’s hand twitches, like he is more than willing to take a bullet if they stop. “Kill me,” he spits, “just don’t hurt her.”
“That wouldn’t be fun.”