“Shh, baby, shhh,” Kayla crooned. Ana was having none of it. She wailed and threw her arms up and down and Kayla’s heart was breaking.
“Let me take her for a second,” Chloe said softly. “You need a break.”
Kayla let Chloe pull Ana onto her lap and then scrubbed her eyes. She’d been crying too, out of anger and fear for her baby mostly, though also for them, and her eyes were swollen.
“I’m sorry,” she said to Chloe again.
Chloe bounced Ana, who still cried, and looked over at Kayla. “It’s not your fault, Kayla.”
“It is. If you hadn’t been with me, you wouldn’t be here.”
“I’m glad I’m with you,” Chloe said fiercely, and Kayla believed she meant it. Her heart swelled with gratitude and love for her friend. “I’ve been through this shit before, and I know we’re going to be fine. Ryan and Zach will find us, Kayla. They will. I have faith.”
“I hope you’re right.”
She didn’t have Chloe’s faith, though she wanted it. But life was always a shit sandwich for her, at some point, and she’d been overdue. When the passenger window had busted in on her, she hadn’t realized what was happening. But then she’d looked up and found herself staring at the barrel of a pistol. That was when the rumble of motorcycles finally registered in her brain. She’d heard them before Chloe’d slammed on the brakes, but she hadn’t been on her guard like she should have been. She’d assumed it was a plane flying overhead and hadn’t bothered to look.
She hadn’t been diligent, and for that she couldn’t forgive herself.
Come on, Kay-Kay! What could you have done even if you’d managed to figure out the sound was motorcycles? They already had you.
Her face stung with the cuts she’d gotten from flying glass, and the dried blood was beginning to itch. Chloe had ripped off one of her sleeves and dabbed at the cuts as best she could once they’d gotten thrown in here. None were deep, thankfully. Both Chloe and Ana were unhurt.
Kayla shot to her feet and paced back and forth, fear churning inside. The room was small and dingy and there was nothing they could use for a weapon. She’d looked. Chloe had looked. There was a dirty bed with nothing but a mattress, a table with a chair—they’d considered the chair, but it was too unwieldy—and one window high up on the wall. Chloe had already pushed the table over and stood on it to look outside.
“Woods,” she’d said. “Nothing but woods.”
The Kings had caught them on an isolated stretch of road where they usually took a short cut to the highway that would take them to Ella’s place. They’d been surrounded, and someone had bashed in her window. Another of the brothers stood beside Chloe’s door and motioned at her to open it. When she did, he’d yanked her out and shoved her into the backseat. Then he’d taken over the driving.
They hadn’t cared that she and Chloe saw where they were going. A bad sign to her way of thinking. When they’d made it to this weathered building in the back of beyond, Dal Gentry parked his black and chrome Harley Fat Boy and swaggered over to yank her from the car.
“Hello, bitch,” he’d growled in her ear. “Have a nice ride?”
“I said I’d get the money,” she’d growled back because she knew better than to show fear in front of these men. “You’re making a mistake.”
He’d barked a laugh. “No mistake, bitch. The terms have changed.”
Kayla rubbed her hands up and down her arms, shivering. She didn’t know what the terms were because he hadn’t told her, but he’d taken her phone away and forced her to give him the code. She’d debated lying about it, but he’d nudged his chin at one of the other men—yet another one she didn’t remember—and said, “Gimme the brat.”
Chloe started singing to Ana, but it didn’t really help. Her little sobs were weaker now, but she still cried and slapped her hands at Chloe. She’d done the same to Kayla.
“Za!” Ana wailed anew, and Kayla’s skin prickled with fresh heat as anger roared to life inside.
She stormed over to the door and started banging on it. “Gentry!” she screamed. “Bring me that fucking diaper bag you asshole! If I can’t take care of Ana, then you won’t get any money out of her at all! No rich bitch is going to pay top dollar for a damaged kid.”
She was breathing heavy, ready to sink to the floor and sob, when the door jerked open. It wasn’t Gentry who stood there with the bag though.
“Steve?”
He sneered. “Yeah, it’s me. Shut that fucking kid up, Kayla,” he said as he threw the bag at her.
He slammed the door and Kayla snatched up the bag, hurrying over to the bed to dig out one of the prepared bottles of formula. Thankfully she’d made a couple up so that Ella would have them ready to go. There were some snacks and pureed vegetables as well, though nothing that was going to get them through more than a day.
Kayla growled in frustration as she fumbled for the correct bottle since she’d included a couple of empties with powder so Ella could mix them if necessary. She still hated James for the fact she had to bottle feed and being imprisoned by his club only made her resentment worse.
“Slow down, honey,” Chloe said softly. “Here, give it to me. You take Ana and I’ll get it for you.”
Kayla took Ana in her arms and Chloe got the bottle, shook it up, and handed it over. Ana took it greedily and the wailing ceased. Chloe and Kayla looked at each other, breathing easier for a minute.
“Thank God,” Kayla said.
“Who was that guy? You knew his name.”
Kayla snorted bitterly. “He’s Ana’s uncle. Not that you’d know it from the way he behaved, right?”
“Oh
