Splintered Courage Page 10

  “Finally, alone at last. I knew that would keep him occupied for a little bit.” He says as he stalks to me. This dude really must think he’s something. He makes me want to gag. He comes up to me flush against the wall. He grabs my face and forces a sickening kiss that I refuse to return. I snag his lower lip with my teeth and yank my head back. “You stupid bitch” he roars as he wipes the blood from his mouth. He returns to me, “Oh, so you like it rough, do you? Tit for Tat? Blood for blood? Just how rough do you like it little girl?” He clenches my center in a vise like grip through my shorts. One thing I can’t stand is a thief. You should never take what isn’t yours. I swing my head forwards and crack it against the bridge of his nose. He steps back with his eyes watering, when he can refocus he stalks back my way “I am going to make you pay for that you little whore.” I don’t give him time to continue. With my hands wrapped around the bottom of the chain, I clench my abs, bringing my legs up as high as I can in one swift motion. I wrap them around the twerp’s neck and squeeze with all my might. Idiots should have chained my feet too. He claws at my legs trying to get air. I’m not done yet. If he will do it me, he will do it to someone else. With my mind made up, I force all my weight and turn at the hip while I still have ahold of the chain. I can feel my grip starting to give. I hear the snap, then quiet. He falls to the ground in a heap, his cold soulless eyes staring at me. Except, I know they don’t see anything. His days of praying on those weaker than him are done. No more. I let go of the chain, letting my wrists hold my weight once again, as the gravity of what I’ve done sinks in. What’s done is done. I harden my heart and take my foot and push his body as far away from me as I can. Then, I do the only thing I can. I wait.

  Weston

  Garret called everyone back as soon as possible. We all loaded up in the Hummer and headed toward Watesboro. Chandler has pinged her location. I will forever be indebted to Garret for giving Gemma that watch. We didn’t tell her we modified it to be equipped with a GPS tracking device and a on demand microphone. On call we can pick up what is being said, as well as, pin point her location. I can feel the bile rise up at the things that son of a bitch was saying to her. I want to watch the life extinguish from his eyes with my hand around this throat. It’s been quiet for a while. Sometimes that is worse. Garret recognized the other voice. He identified him as Leo one of the members of his old MC. Leo had a thing for Garret’s old lady, whom is also Gemma’s mom. According to Garret, Amelia didn’t feel the same way for Leo. She only had eyes for Garret. Leo must have been reason for Gemma’s hidden existence all this time. Amelia probably knew Leo would retaliate. All we can do is speculate since she’s gone. I hold the Hummer down trying to reach our destination as quickly as I can. No matter how fast we get there, it will never be fast enough. They already have her. I can guarantee over my dead body, they are not going to keep her though.

  Garret has me park a block over from the abandoned warehouse. Garret, Chandler, Jake, Jason and myself are all dressed in black and packing our heat of choice. I opted for my Springfield XDM 45mm. I’m not fucking around. This thing could knock big foot for a loop. Chandler is going to stay in the vehicle and monitor her watch and the area. Jake and Jason are going to scout the perimeter and then man the doors. The rest is up to me and Garret. We will go in and we will get her out.

  Light as a feather we hunch over and jog to our respective positions without making a sound. I don’t want to take anyone’s life but I will if necessary. For now, a good pistol whip to the temple to enough to lay out the first guard cold. Jake and Jason nod their all clear. Garret and I nod to both of them. Chandler informs us through our micro Bluetooth communication devices that it’s still quiet in Gemma’s room. We open the door and keep our backs along the wall with our guns before us. Quiet as a mouse we navigate the old office area of the building. Gemma is being held in the old boiler room on the far side of the building. It’s quiet, almost too quiet. We are fairly certain the Tortured Rebels didn’t bring many reinforcements with them. The MC isn’t huge in the first place. We know several of them are already down for a fact. Once knocked out outside, they have been restrained by the Nichols duo, Jake and Jason.

  With surprise on our side we take down three more Rebels. We drag and lock them in one of the old offices. It won’t keep them forever, but it will buy us some time. I never wanted to make an enemy with these people but you don’t mess with what is mine.

  I can see the door to the room where Gemma is being held. My heart thunders in my chest. Please let her be ok. Chandler interrupts my internal panic, “I hear something, I believe Leo is in the room with her. It’s faint, so he must not be standing too close.”

  This steels my spine. That fucker is going to pay for bringing havoc on our family. We inch towards the door. Garret on one side, me on the other. We silently agree to wait and listen instead of barging in gun blazing. I’m sure he knows we are here by now. The door opens and a huge tanker of a man stands in the doorway looking over his shoulder into the room. I use his moment of distraction as leverage. I put my foot on the bottom of the door and push with my gun aimed straight into his face. You don’t know how tempted I am to go ahead and pull the trigger to end this. His look of surprise is quickly replaced by a smug smile.

  “Oh, Weston is it? How nice of you to join us. Come in, come in.” He tries to get a rise out of me. I stalk forward keeping the gun trained on his face. Garret follows in behind me. We continue until he is forced farther into the room, away from the door and away from Gemma. I can’t afford to look at her right now. I can feel her though, her agony, relief, pride…courage. It’s rolling off her in waves. That is just how in tuned we are with each other.

  “Gentlemen, to what do I owe this pleasure?” He drawls on as if he is some dignified douche canoe. When his eyes land on Garret I see the instant change. The hatred flashes over his face. Still keeping my gun trained on the piece of shit in front of me, Garret goes to Gemma to make sure she is ok. I can hear them mumbling low amongst themselves. Leo and I continue to circle, both to wound up to idle. Then I start to trip over something in the floor…not something but someone. I glance down, realizing my mistake too late. Leo is out the door, gone in a flash. I sprint out the door to chase him. There’s no sign of him anywhere. He’s fast for an old man. Instead of chasing shadows, I return to Gemma’s room.

  Garret is inspecting a gnarly place on the side of her head. Dried blood runs the side of her face to under her chin. She’s still chained to the wall. Noticing the leather cut of the dead guy on the floor I search him for keys. Bingo. I release the cuffs and Gemma falls into my arms. I scoop her up and bring her to me. It’s time to take my baby home.

  Gemma

  Weston never let’s go of me as we exit the warehouse. He settles me in his lap for the ride home. I refuse to go to the doctor. All they managed on me was a hit to the head. Garret thinks it best to not get the police involved which I totally agree. I killed a man. Granted he was going to rape me and who knows how many others, but still there’s a fine line when it comes to the law. The line changes the deeper the pockets get too.

  After I’ve been cleaned up by Garret, he gives me a hug and a kiss on the head bidding me goodnight. I hate the look of remorse in his eyes. I know he blames himself. Truth is it goes back to my mother too. This could have happened regardless. From the looks Leo was giving me, it could have been much, much worse.

  Weston carries me upstairs refusing to let me walk. I think he just likes keeping me close. He takes me to his room instead of mine. I don’t protest, I don’t want to be alone tonight. He lays me on his bed. I see the pained look when he sees the bruise covering the side of my head. He oh so gently runs his fingers along my jaw as if I might break. If those guys didn’t break me earlier, Weston isn’t going to break me now. The only chance he has of breaking me is if he isn’t careful with my heart. That has the potential to shatter me. At a loss for words I wrap my hand around his neck and pull him to me. With my back against
the headboard, he positions himself between my legs on his knees. He rests his forehead against mine. We take a moment to just breath. I tilt my head back, rubbing my nose along his. I am not going to go another day not telling him how I feel. I lightly rub my mouth against his. Not willing to go farther yet. First, I have to tell him. Part of me was afraid I’d never see him again.

  “Weston, I knew you’d come for me,” I tell him. I place my hand over his frantic heart. “I felt it here, I just knew. I knew the moment you walked into the building. My heart recognized its other half. It felt whole again.” Weston closes his eyes, his nostrils flair to keep up with his rapid breathing. “Look at me Weston.” His eyes pop open finding my own. The deep green is swirling with emotion. Finding the courage, I never knew I had, I wrap my fingers around Weston’s strong jaw, “I love you Weston Marks.” I profess as a single tear rolls down my check. Weston’s eyes flash, he doesn’t say anything as his mouth crashes to mine. My heart swells and a fire grows.

  Weston relaxes against me, “I love you too Gemma Tate, more than I ever thought possible.”

  Epilogue

  Gemma

  We showed how much we love each other for the first time that night. Over and over again until we were exhausted in each other’s arms. It was raw, it was beautiful, it was us.

  We might have made it out of that warehouse, but we all know it is far from over. We still haven’t been able to locate Leo or any of his goonies.

  Nothing has been mentioned of the body in the warehouse, for that I am thankful. I do find it odd that since the incident, miss Chandra has been conveniently low key. I don’t tell Weston, but some nights the flash of red and the tinkling of laughter wakes me up, taunting me. No, this is far from over.

  THE END

  About the Author

  J.E. Sawyer lives with her husband in the mountains of North Carolina. When she’s not reading or writing, she’s tearing up the race track with her love.

  Website:

  www.jesawyer-author.com