Page 10 of Rough Road

She smiled at Sage then Grier. “You might not trust me, but I trust you, Grier.”

Grier shook his head and walked beside her to the stairs. “Risky, since five minutes ago, I was going to have you killed.”

“But you didn’t.”

Sage limped behind them. “Don’t worry about me. You two just go on. I’ll just crawl up the steps.”

Grier went back to help Sage. “What happened to your leg?” He needed Sage in one piece.

“Ham.” Enough said.

“Can you ride?” In the absence of Kye, he needed Sage.

“I could ride with two broken legs.”

Oh, thank God. It was going to be one long night.

And he watched every second tick off the clock until they had all the details arranged. Then it was time for a nap, and he wasn’t in the mood to argue with Hamilton who had insisted. He wanted to get on the road, find his woman and his daughter and get them back home where he could watch them, never let them go. But Hamilton made sense. A long ride, probably a gunfight or some kind of confrontation was coming, and he would need to be alert. What Hamilton couldn’t control was Grier’s brain and its inability to shut down and let the sleep come.

At one in the morning, they took off. And by four-thirty, a third bike joined them. Kye had come.

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Fiona’s list grew. Asshat, Tyler Sedotal, Body Odor Boy, and Sewer Breath. And that was just the start. The last two, her newest escorts, hadn’t called each other by name, and even if they had, the monikers Fiona had blessed them with fit better than anything anyone else could call them. Sewer Breath had thrown her, none too gently, into the back of an SUV, then blindfolded her with what smelled like BO Boy’s sock and they drove for what felt like days. And one of them snored, hopefully not while he was driving, but she couldn’t be certain because of the blindfold. Fortunately, the baby had slept right up to the minute the car screeched to a halt. Sewer Breath pulled Fiona out of the car and yanked the blindfold off her head. “Where are we?”

He ignored her question and shoved her toward an old plantation house in the middle of a lawn that was both badly in need of a mow and stretched as far as she could see in every direction, broken only by the narrow drive the car had taken. It was one of those two-story houses with white siding and black shutters and most of the windows were broken out, but in its day, it had probably been something much more impressive than now.

The porch was missing boards and the steps creaked and groaned as she walked up. BO Boy carried the baby seat and diaper bag, huffing and puffing like London had gained a couple of hundred pounds on their trip while Sewer Breath pushed open a squeaking door.

Fiona waited for him to catch up and she took the carrier and the diaper bag, and he smiled. “Thanks, babe.”

If she never heard that word again, babe, it would be a couple of years too soon. They’d stopped calling her Fiona or Princess a few hundred miles ago. But so far, they’d kept their hands to themselves, so there was that, at least.

She didn’t speak but walked into the house in front of him. Moth eaten curtains billowed in the light breeze and the air chilled Fiona so that she set the baby down, dug through the diaper bag, and pulled out a blanket to wrap around London. She changed her diaper and fed her as she walked to a window and looked out. Nothing to the north or east but lawn. Not a single clue to tell her where they’d driven.

There had to be a way out of there. Even if she couldn’t hear what her escorts were talking about, she could tell they were worried. Sewer Breath talked with his hands and he was gesturing like an air traffic controller who’d taken a bit too much speed. BO Boy chewed his thumbnail and if Fiona would’ve cared enough to look, she would have bet he was bleeding.

She’d had about enough of both of them. She watched them, pretending she wasn’t, keeping her head down, nuzzling the baby with her chin. But she didn’t miss anything. Not Sewer Breath shaking the phone at BO Boy, not the hiss of his words, not the way he slammed out of the room, flinging the door shut behind him. BO Boy pursed his lips and blew out his breath then turned to face her.

“He’s going to get food.”

Fiona nodded but didn’t speak. She needed to know more about him before she decided whether to play him tough or to play him sweet. Not that she had time to spend figuring it out. She didn’t even have a coin to flip to decide. “He’s not very nice to you, huh?”

“He’s the boss right now. He doesn’t have to be nice.” But he cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes. Those words hurt.

“Why’s he the boss? You don’t seem like you need someone telling you what to do.”

He scoffed. “I don’t.” He pushed his chest out and lifted his chin. Oh, yeah. She had him now.

“I’m just saying. I think you deserve some respect. And I’d…” Oh, Lord. She needed strength. “…be happy to tell Ty I think you deserve better than being that asshole’s whipping boy.”

“I ain’t nobody’s whipping boy.” There was some defiance. Just what she needed.

“Don’t tell me. Tell him. He’s the one talking down to you, right?” She shifted her head to the other side. “My guys know who I trust. No doubt. And when I’m with Ty, I’ll make sure his guys do, too.” He rolled his eyes. “You think I don’t have pull with him? I didn’t spend all those hours in that cabin with him sucking his dick.” Thank God. “We were planning. Plotting. Figuring out how to make you boys as rich as my boys.” This kid was buying every word. “You want me to tell him you should be one of the guys in the inner circle, I will.”

“And what do I have to do for you?”

“Again, it’s what I can do for you.” She leaned forward and moved the baby to her other breast, telling herself she would do what she had to do to protect London and if that meant a couple of peep shows to a kid who’d probably never even seen a woman’s boob before, then it would be worth it.