Page 30 of Fury
“I hope not,” he answered with honesty, which wasn’t quite what she wanted to hear, but she liked he wasn’t pulling punches with her. “I can’t say for certain. This other club, they’re going after family. Watcher’s daughter is missing, and the consensus is that they’ve taken her.”
Bethy’s heart jolted and she shook her head. “Bella? Oh my God, where’s Mikey?”Little Bella, I changed her diapers. Tiny Bella, the child who climbed me like a monkey, wanting a hug from her Aunt Bethy. Bella kidnapped. Kept in a tiny room, held behind a metal door for days. She clawed at the door handle again, yelling in frustration when it wouldn’t work. “Juanita, I need to get to Juanita.”
“No, Bethy. You need to stay here.” She stopped yanking on the handle at his firm words, staring at him. “They’ve pulled every resource possible to find her. Maybe it’ll just be a college kid being adventurous.” She shook her head, knowing Bella would never do that to her papa. Fury frowned, then continued, “But this club we’re set against, they’ve been known to do family.” He paused again, his gaze traveling over her face, making a study of looking at her and Bethy realized why he looked so different.I can see his eyes.
No sunglasses. Every time she’d seen him over the past two days, he’d been wearing sunglasses, even inside. Without them, he looked even more familiar. Shaking off the feeling took more effort this time, but she ignored her gut, which was sending off huge warning flares, and instead focused on the immediate issue. “Why can’t I go to Juanita? She has to be devastated.”
“Because I’m one guy. Chicago boys are busy, and so are the Fort Wayne members. Willa’s in labor…” She sucked in a breath, and he at least had the good grace to wince when the news came out so baldly, holding up one hand. “I don’t know more than that. But as you can see, we’ve got a few angles working right now. So if you don’t want to be locked in a hotel suite, then we need to move everything to the bus. I’m just one guy,” he repeated with another shake of his head. “And your brother is counting on me. I call you guys the Rebel royalty, because it’s true. So right now I’ve got three princesses and one prince in town, and I can’t do more than what I’m doing. Mica and Molly are being directed to find me. I need somewhere to put them.”
Bethy nodded, hating that he was right. “This all makes sense, in a nonsensical way.” Brimming with anger, she needed to turn that emotion to the ones who deserved it, knowing she sounded crazy and not caring. “What kind of people do this? Put innocent children at risk?” She shifted, looking out the car windows towards the arena. “I’m sorry.” She stumbled, his name sounding foreign in her mouth, but she forced it out, “Fury. I know you’re being considerate. Um, do you think the hotel might be easier to handle? Are you sure you want us on the bus?”
“You can’t do your job at all from the hotel, can you?” The concern in his tone surprised her and she looked at him, shaking her head. “Right now, the show is still on for tomorrow. I don’t want to jack this shit up for Chase or Benny,” his voice lowered an octave, the sound of it scratching along that what-the-hell line in her head, “or you, Bethy. I think the bus will be fine, and it keeps you here where you need to be. As soon as I know anything, or if anything breaks loose, we’ll be back on track.”
“Mica’s in town?” She hated how tentative her voice sounded, hated the queasy roll of her stomach at the knowledge. “Here?”
“Yeah, her cousin’s competing tomorrow. Mica and her sister, Molly, are here. I met them along with Essa twenty minutes ago over at Duck’s place. I don’t think Essa expected them to show, but she was excited to see them.”
Bethy’s hands shook. She noted the marked tremble when she laid her palms on her legs. Mica had been in Utah. After that thought breached her defenses, it only took moments for the memories to sweep over her, rolling her under the tide of a desperate fear she’d lived inside for weeks.
I’m alive, she told herself. The chill of the cement floor bit into her skin as she sat and stared at the tall, thick, and dreaded door, waiting for the man to come back and kill her. That was what he would do, she knew it. Her death his eventual goal, so every breath she took was another moment deferred. Each day he didn’t kill her seemed an eternity. Another set of hours spent in the hell of not knowing. Not knowing why, or who, or if she could do anything to stop it.
She curled up, pressing her head against her knees, blocking out the sight of that window set in the door. The damned, damned door. That was where she’d see him, see him coming for her. The door. That would be the last thing she got to see before she died.
The floor moved, and Bethy was flung against something hard and warm. She pushed, trying to get away. Clawing and shoving, because the door was there. The door would open and he would kill her.
***
Fury
He wrapped his arms around Bethy from his position sprawled halfway in the backseat. They’d been talking about the security situation, and it seemed like he’d gotten through to her. Then she’d gone quiet, chin dropping to her neck. He’d spoken to her several times before she started rocking and trembling. Still unsure, he’d spent another few moments trying to figure out what was going on. It was her whispers that had pulled him from his position behind the wheel, faint and trembling on the air. He’d had to stretch out to reach her because the moment he’d opened the door, she’d scooted as far away from him as she could get. Ass to the floor, back to the opposite side of the car, she’d used her feet and nails on him, trying to keep him away.
“Kill me,” she whispered, and he sucked in a breath, shocked. Her teeth chattered, clicking together violently as shivers racked her body. “No. Please, no. I’m alive.”
Fury tightened his arms around her again, yanking to tear her hands free from the door. He somehow got her into his lap so he could wrap her up, hold her close. As hot as it was outside—and in the car it was worse, an oven that had him soaked with sweat—but her skin was chilled and she shook as if she were freezing. “Kill me. He’s gonna kill me.”
Fuck.
PTSD. He’d said something about Mica, and she’d latched onto that, somehow vaulting into her head so she thought she was back in Utah.
At least she wasn’t fighting him anymore, but her sagging submission was almost worse. “Bethany,” he called, putting his mouth near her ear. She didn’t move. Didn’t acknowledge him. “Bethany, you’re safe.” He tightened his arms around her. “Safe, honey.” Nothing. Shit.
“Bethany Mason, you’re safe.” She shivered, and he thought he could hear her muscles creak with the movement.
“Kill me. He’ll kill me. Gonna kill me.”
“No, honey. You’re safe.” He would repeat it as long as she needed him to. “You’re safe.”
Adjusting his grip, he eased her up his legs so he could pull her tighter against his torso. “You’re safe.” She shook, her hair flying all around her head. “Safe as toads. You’re safe, Bethy.”
A shadow at the door startled him, and he looked up to see Chase in the process of crouching down. “Give her to me,” the boy said, his voice firm. He put actions to words, not giving Fury time to argue before he had pried her away, lifting her to his chest. “I got you,” the boy muttered, and turned, stalking towards the bus, covering ground with long strides. Fury realized the rest of the band was standing in front of the car, staring at him. Scowling at him. The look on Benny’s face was livid, an angry tension evident in every line of his body.
Fury climbed out of the car, slammed the door, and turned to watch Chase as he disappeared into the bus, Bethany in his arms. The accordion doors closed and without turning, Fury demanded, “Someone want to clue me in on what’s going on there?”
Bonnie Dupont was the first to speak, her voice low and furious. “She has flashbacks.”
He swung around to stare at her. “No shit, Sherlock. How long has this gone on?” If Mason knew, there was no way he’d have her out here on her own.
Benny turned on his heel without speaking, heading back towards the office.
