Page 8 of Rogue

What is it about this man that leaves me speechless? He’s not that wonderful, right?

“Number is in your phone. You need anything you call or text, it will be here in thirty minutes. I got cameras all around the outside of the house and sensors but no cameras in the house, so you have privacy. No one will come inside that house, if anyone does, there is a nine mil in the top draw of the buffet by the frontdoor. It’s loaded, no safety, and one in the chamber already. You shoot first and ask questions later, got me?”

“What if you come over? It’s your house.”

“I won’t be inside. I’ll touch base when I have more information. I come here, we talk on the porch. You need something, you have my number. Your location has been turned off and locked off. No one can attempt to search it. I don’t know you, so I’m not gonna tell you who to talk to, but wise up we don’t know shit about shit right now. Therefore everyone is the enemy until we clear that they aren’t.”

With my phone gently back in my hands, he gives my ass a pat and points to the front door.

I don’t know what to say. Stupidly, I walk to the door. What else am I supposed to do. Just like he said, I put in the code and the door opened. As soon as I cross the threshold, I head the rumble of his bike as I turn around to see him pulling off. When I shut the door behind me, I look through the peephole, his bike is to me as he raises a hand in the air pressing a button fob of some sort. Instantly I hear the alarm system speak.

SYSTEM ENGAGED. STAY MODE ACTIVE.

Well, he has everything under control while I have lost my damn mind.

With my back to the front door, I slide down it until my ass hits the floor. Dropping my head in my hands I let the tears fall.

CHAPTER 4

Rogue

At the end of the driveway, I pause to inhale. Why I brought her here I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea in the moment. Being here, though, it pulls at too many things inside me.

I never bring anyone home. Yet, hearing her scream, watching her process shock, everything inside of me said get her out and to safety. There is no place safer than here, especially for her.

While I find the woman attractive, I haven’t interacted with her enough for anyone to put two and two together that she’s with me. Outside of my weekly order she has her world and I have mine. There is no reason for anyone to come looking for her at my house. Unless they are watching her shop, then it is obvious since I broke the damn door in to get to her. If they follow us, it will be a suicide mission on their end. I promise I’ll be the one putting heads in boxes if they decide to come here.

Who sent her the dead man’s head? Who is the dead man? I have plenty of questions and zero answers. As soon as she opened her shop here in town, Havoc wanting to know everything, had a brother run a check. One thing about our President, he’s thorough. Attention to detail and knowledge ispower are key things to the man. Every new person that falls on his radar, he is researching. Down to his core Havoc is about learning anything and everything about everyone around him.

Michele Leigh Cramer, twenty-eight years old. She’s from New Jersey. Never been married, no kids, and based on what could be sorted, she doesn’t even have a boyfriend. No siblings, parents died when she was a kid, grandparents stepped up and raised her until they died seven years ago. She calls home to chat with one cousin and that is it. Compared to everyone I know, Michele Cramer is the most tame and boring single woman around. Her life is a bubble and she has zero desired to get out of it.

I look back once more before letting out a sigh. I know better. Once something is behind you, it’s done. It can’t be changed. Trust me, if I could change the past, I would in a heartbeat.

Why I keep this place is beyond even me. Psychological warfare is something I trained in. If I had to categorize this home, it is absolutely a battlefield for my mind. Knowing this, I still can’t seem to let it go no matter how much I know it isn’t healthy. Once upon a time, this house had dreams, a future. Happiness once abounded inside the walls of this home. Nothing here brings me joy anymore, and not a damn thing can ever change it.

But she will be safe here.

Compartmentalize.

It’s how to survive a war zone. Everything and everyone has a box. Tuck each box away until necessary. Focus on the mission and nothing else matters.

This house it doesn’t ever stay in the box. In fact, my entire adult life becomes muddled the longer I sit in this driveway. The craving to put the gun to my head and pull the trigger arise inside me once again.

Why not? Who will miss me?

In death, I will find peace.

Would I see her again? Could I hold her in my arms once more in the afterlife?

I could do it. The cold metal of the barrel to my temple or under my chin, four pounds of pressure on the trigger and in a snap it would be done. The loneliness, the guilt, the pain, and this house would all be nothing anymore.

Shaking off the thoughts that haunt me, I twist the throttle and ride back to her shop. Upon arrival, the guys already have the front door off the hinges trying to replace the glass I shot out. It was a reaction, I went into mission mode and path of least resistance to getting to her was through the door.

Pulling up, I drop the kickstand and cut the engine off, but stay in my seat. Looking to my left hand, the tremors are present. The medication isn’t working anymore. The tingling sensations are brutal. It’s like my hand ‘falling asleep’ as my granddad always called it, but no matter how much I drop the arm to allow for blood flow, the pins and needles don’t stop. Sitting on my bike, I reach to the pocket inside my cut and pull out a joint. Lighting it, I take the first inhale.

Deep.

Closing my eyes, I let the weed do its job. As I take the next draw, I feel the pain lessoning. Whether it’s truly the medicinal purposes found in the marijuana or it’s simply in my head, I don’t care. This shit takes the edge off my shaking hand, my painful arm, and the thoughts in my head. Opening my eyes, Creed has approached.

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