My voice is just above a whisper, when I say. “Your dad came by.”
“What the fuck?” He shouts out, causing me to pull the phone from my ear for just a second. “What the hell did he do?”
“Nothing,” I rush out my explanation. “He just stopped by.”
“That fucker had a reason for stopping by, and I can guarantee it wasn’t to chat with your ass,” He growls out, before lowering his voice. “What did he want?”
“I’m not sure,” He really didn’t hurt me, didn’t even threaten me. Still, I know his words were meant as a threat. I just don’t know how to explain this to Bowie.
“Is Tag with you?”
I nod to myself. “Yeah, he’s right here.”
“Let me talk to him.”
I hesitate a second too long, so he barks his order out again. “Let me talk to the fuckin’ kid.”
Without saying goodbye, I walk over to Tag and hand him the phone. As soon as it’s at his ear, he’s explaining everything to Bowie. “He wants her, but your claim kept him back for now.”
“Fuck!” I can hear Bowies roar, even though I’m no longer holding the phone.
They talk for a few more minutes, while Tag mumbles yeah time and time again, followed by a promise to keep me safe and hangs up the phone. His eyes come directly to me and he says, “Follow me.”
I do so without a word, down the hall than through a door. He leads me down to the basement and walks to the corner where a key pad is placed beside a metal door. “If he shows up again, you go in here. Don’t wait for me, just get your ass inside.”
“I can’t leave you out here to get hurt.”
The boy that was in the truck with me is gone and a man is in his place. His eyes are full of determination as he says, “You can and you will.”
He starts pushing the keys. “The code is 44295, memorize it.”
I hear a click, right before Tag pulls the door open. He walks inside and motions for me to follow. For some reason, the thought of going in there sends a chill down my spine. Marcus would lock me in my room for days if I did something that he didn’t approve of, but I doubt this room is going to have a cushy bed and an attached bathroom.
Tag calls out for me to come on, so I force myself to step inside. The room we enter is nearly as large as the entire first floor of the house. Every single wall is lined with wooden crates. I’m not sure what’s in them, but I doubt I want to know. Other than that, the room is completely bare.
Tag points at another key pad, this one placed on the inside of the room. This one is similar to the one outside, but this keypad has two large buttons below it. “When you come in here, you press the red button. Once you do, the system is armed. No one is getting through that door, unless you push the green button.”
“How long do I have to stay in here?” Just imagining myself locked in this room has bile clawing its way up my throat.
“You stay in here until Bowie or Tin-Man shows up. I don’t give a shit who in the hell is at that door, you keep the fuckin’ door armed. You wait for one of them to give you the all-clear before opening it.”
Knowing they are out of town and I could be stuck in here for days is making the idea of being in here even more frightening. “What about you? Can’t you tell me when it’s safe?”
“No, don’t trust what I say. A man will do a lot of things when he’s in pain that he wouldn’t do normally,” He shakes his head, looking almost ashamed.
I close my eyes and try to block out the image of Cash hurting Tag to get to me. I draw in a cleansing breath before opening them again. I don’t tell him I will leave it locked, because I know I could never allow anyone to hurt him, so I ask a question instead. “Maybe, I should leave. I could just stay at a hotel until Bowie gets home.”
He shakes his head again. “If he wants you, he’ll find you no matter where you go. For now, this is the safest place for you.”
I look around the room, and wonder what in the hell I’ve gotten myself into.
He’s Back
Bowie
I slam my phone down on the bar and run my hand through my hair. We arrived in Nashville two days ago. What was meant to be a short layover has turned into a two-day waiting game. The Sixes are having trouble with a rival club, and they need me to hold off the drop for a few more days, so we’re stuck here. I’m tired as fuck, worried about my woman, and there is not a thing I can do about either fuckin’ thing. “Damn it!”
“What the fuck was all that about?” Rollo asks as he settles onto the bar stool next to mine.
I look at him, letting him see the anger in my eyes. “Cash stopped by the house to see Shay.”