Page 79 of Defended By Bam
“Chat?” I asked, confused.
“Oh, he didn’t tell you? I spoke to him at the biker rally. Which, honestly Brooklyn– this is the life you chose to leave me for?” he asked, shaking his head.
My mind raced. He hadn’t told me Marshall was there. But now everything made sense. Leaving in the middle of the night. Staying at the clubhouse. His long days.
“Oh, did I just crush your imaginary life, Brooke? Turns out your boyfriend and his friends have their own enemies. Easy enough to get some help collecting what’s mine with their help. Now come on,” he said, tugging at my elbow.
I still stayed limp, making him drag me from the barn. Tears filled my eyes as I thought about it all. My sweet daughter. His handsome face. My friend’s warm smile. Ollie’s gravelly laugh as Sofie played with him.
But as tears burned my cheeks, rumbling pipes in the distance made me pause, a breath trapped in my chest.
“What the fuck now?” Marshall said, dropping me then power walking to the door. “Shit.”
He ran back to me, lifting me under both armpits from behind. It pulled my arms back even more awkwardly and I cried out.
“Cooperate and I won’t kill you both.”
“You can kill me, but you’ll never see her again.Ever.” I didn’t want to die, but I could die knowing that was true. Bama would never let anything happen to Sofie. I was only even here because I left the safety of the clubhouse. But why didn’t he just tell me everything? Maybe if he had, this wouldn’t be happening. But I couldn’t bring myself to be mad at him.
All I could think of was how much I loved Sofie and Bama. And how he’d probably spoil her rotten once I was found dead. He’d never forgive himself and would forever try to make it up to her. I just hoped she didn’t blame him. The life we led together wasn’t typical, and I could only allow myself to feel our love and trust that he had a reason to keep it from me, probably thinking hewasprotecting me. I didn’t want to spend my last moments angry at him.
The loud engines got closer, and Marshall’s movements became quicker and his breathing heavy as he practically carried me through the door. Probably just more of the assholes that took me.
When we made it over the threshold, shouting and gunfire broke out. I winced and my body tightened, making it easier for Marshall to move me. He flung me around, holding a hand to my throat, the other holding my arm to keep me up and the knife cut into my arm. “I’ll kill her!” he shouted in my ear.
My eyes opened, and I gasped when I saw the black truck and several familiar faces. Bama came into view. Rogers, Hammer, Butterbean, and others were running around, shooting at the others.
Bama and Rogers started toward me, but Marshall gripped my throat harder, dragging me to a black SUV.
“Let her go,” Bama said as he came closer. Rogers had his gun trained on us. I wasn’t sure how good of a shot he was, but had to believe he would do his best not to kill me.
“She’s not yours,” Marshall said. “You let me leave with her, and I won’t have you all taken down.” He jerked me by my throat, holding me up by it, and the tip of the knife was pressing into my side.
“You’re not leaving here alive. But you can decide how quick and easy it is by how quick and easy you hand her over,” Bama said.
They were only yards away now. Marshall’s hand became slippery over my throat, but it was getting harder to breathe. Tears rolled down my cheeks and my chest jumped.
“You kill me, your operation is done. You think I didn’t leave a paper trail leading to your club?” Marshall asked, still dragging me closer to the SUV. “She and I make it out of here, maybe I’ll hold on to it and tuck it away. But if I don’t show back up for work, the first thing they’ll do is check my car and my locker.”
Bama and Rogers didn’t move, and my mouth went dry as Marshall dragged me a few more steps.
Bama locked eyes with me and mouthed, “I love you.”
Whimpering, and unable to speak clearly because of the pressure on my throat, I said, “Tell her Mommy loves her and take care of her. I love you, Bama.”
“No you don’t. You’ve been brainwashed. You love me, Brooklyn. And you’re mine.”
Bama took a step, and Rogers followed.
“Brooklyn is dead,” I wheezed before I slammed my head into his nose and fell to the ground. As soon as I fell, Bama rushed him and they tumbled to the ground.
Rogers grabbed me, pulling me behind the SUV and cutting the zip ties. I scrambled to get up, but he grabbed me. “Linny, just wait here.”
Tears flooded my eyes even harder than before. Marshall had a gun and a knife. I couldn't see anything and just wanted to lay eyes on Bama. All I could do was sit and wait as guns fired and Bama and Marshall fought just on the other side of the SUV. Sounds of skin and bone being hit and cracked traveled to our hiding place. Bama was much larger and stronger, but I still worried and wondered if somehow Marshall got the upper hand. Then a bloodcurdling screech sent goosebumps over my arms. I didn’t think it was Bama, but I’d never heard that sound from Marshall, or any man for that matter.
The struggle I’d been listening to stopped around the time the shouting and gunshots near the other building stopped.
Silent tears fell as I held my breath, wondering what the hell was happening on the other side of the SUV.
