And I prayed that Amelia kept her ass out of trouble while I was gone. Amelia and trouble never mixed well. I was pretty sure I gave that prospect a job that even I would have trouble doing. Amelia wasn't an easy person to deal with.
5
Amelia
Istrapped my helmet on and straddled my bike. Three days ago, everyone—including Cole—had ridden out on a run, and they hadn’t yet returned. And after the text I’d received from my dad, I figured they most likely wouldn’t be back until the end of the week.
And then last night, I had gotten a call on my phone from the fucking ATL president warning me to tell the club his message, or he would make me. They wanted a war with the Black Skulls and the Bloody Royals so badly, and I wouldn’t give them what they wanted.
So no, no matter how much I hated him and his fucking brothers, and how much I hated him for beating me and raping me, I would keep everything that he did to myself. The man was a sick bastard, and I wouldn’t let him destroy the clubs like he was slowly destroying me.
I knew he would follow up on his threat to ‘make me’, so I was getting the hell out of town for a while. I would probably just stay with a charter a few states over. It was all that I knew to do to keep the clubs safe. I just had to lay low until the ATL figured out that I wasn’t going to cooperate, no matter what.
Peanut was out running some errands for Katie, so I wasn’t under his watchful eye at the moment. Fucking Cole had taken it upon himself to fucking assign Peanut to me as if I needed a bodyguard. I didn’t fucking need anybody.
I started my bike up and was about to drive off when three bikes came through the gates. I stiffened immediately, my mind alert, praying that it wasn’t the ATL coming to ‘make me’ tell the clubs their message.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I muttered once I realized who it was.
Cole brought his bike to a stop in front of me, preventing me from driving off. He turned his bike off, and I proceeded to do the same, knowing I wasn’t going to get out of this confrontation.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked me, his eyes glaring into my own.
“Riding off into the sunset,” I snarked, taking my helmet back off.
I still wasn’t over him assigning Peanut to me. He knew that, too, because after I called him and chewed his ass out, I didn’t answer any of his calls or texts.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said with finality. “It’s too dangerous to be out by yourself.”
I rolled my eyes at him, sighing in frustration. I wore the same cut he did; I was a part of these clubs. When wasn’t my life in danger?
“Cole, danger is my middle name. Now, move. I need to get the hell out of here,” I snapped.
Gunshots suddenly went off as four bikes came onto the club grounds. Cole knocked me to the ground before I could fully register something was happening and started firing back immediately. I felt a hand wrap around my upper arm, and I screamed in pain at not only the tightness of the grip, but the fact that it was my arm connected to my bad shoulder, which really fucking hurt now.
Shit was never going to fucking heal properly at this goddamn rate.
“Cole, stop shooting,” a familiar voice spoke from behind me. The familiar, cold steel of a barrel pressed to my temple.
My blood ran cold, and it took everything in me not to panic. Fuck, I was a strong woman, but against this bastard? I may as well be some common bitch that couldn’t handle her own. Countless beatings and rapes could really take the fight out of a girl. All I wanted to do at that moment was break down, cry, and plead.
Cole leveled his gun at the man as everyone stopped firing, watching the confrontation against the ATL president and Cole. “Let her go,” Cole ground out through clenched teeth.
The ATL fucker just ignored what Cole said. “I’m assuming this beautiful woman didn’t give anyone my message,hm?” He grabbed my chin in his hand and turned my head to face him. I winced in pain at his grip. “No brains to go with that beauty, huh?” he asked me.
“Rot in hell,” I spat at him, desperate for him to not see the fear running through my veins.
He slammed the butt of his gun against my head, and I cried out in pain, swallowing vomit.
A muscle in Cole’s jaw ticked furiously. He was livid. “What message?” Cole snapped, not looking at me, instead keeping his eyes level with ATL president’s.
The president chuckled. “Go ahead and tell him, darling. I’ll let everyone here live—including you and pretty boy—as long as you give him my message.”
I furiously shook my head no. “Go ahead and kill me. I won’t let you drag the clubs down,” I ground out through clenched teeth.
He wrapped his hand tightly around my throat, almost restricting my airflow. “Now, Amelia, let’s try this again or I’ll put a bullet through his head,” he said quietly.
I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t allow Cole to be killed. I would never be able to live with myself.