Page 1 of Comforted By The Mountain Man
1
SIERRA
The phone buzzes against the nightstand at 2:47 AM, and my blood turns to ice water in my veins. Nobody calls this late with good news, not in my world.
I grab it before the second ring, my finger hovering over the decline button. Unknown number. My first instinct is to let it go to voicemail, but something stops me. Maybe it's the way my chest tightens with that familiar dread, or maybe it's the fact that I've been waiting for the call saying I’m on my own again for my son’s entire life.
"Hello?" My voice comes out as a whisper, barely audible over the sound of my heart hammering against my ribs.
"Sierra Martinez?" The voice is female, smooth, with a slight accent I can't place. Not someone I recognize, but she knows my name. In the clubhouse, that's never a good sign.
"Who is this?"
"Listen carefully because I'm only going to say this once. Oscar's dead."
The words lash to my throat like a vice, and I have to grip the edge of the mattress to keep from falling. Dead. Oscar is dead.The father of my child, the man who's kept me trapped in this nightmare for four years, is gone.
"I don't understand," I manage to choke out, though part of me does understand. Part of me has been waiting for this call since the day I met him.
"He got caught stealing from the MC. They found out about the skimming he's been doing from the books, the money he's been moving around. They killed him three hours ago." Her voice is matter-of-fact, like she's reading a grocery list instead of delivering news that's about to shatter my world into pieces.
My free hand flies to my mouth, stifling the sob that threatens to escape. Oscar wasn't a good man. He wasn't even decent. But he was all that stood between me and the wolves, and now he's gone.
"Why are you telling me this?" I whisper.
"Because they know about you. They know you helped with the books, and they're coming for you tonight. You have maybe two hours, probably less."
The room spins around me, and I have to close my eyes to keep from being sick. This is it. This is the moment I've been preparing for without realizing it, storing away every detail about escape routes and emergency plans in the back of my mind.
"What am I supposed to do?" The question comes out broken, desperate.
"There's a safety deposit box at First National Bank on Elm Street. Box 347. The code is 081819. Oscar set it up for you last year when things started getting hot. Said if anything happened to him, you'd know what to do with what's inside."
August 18th, 2019. Ryder's birthday.Even in death, Oscar's using our son.
"I don't have a key."
"You won't need one. Just the code and your ID. Oscar put your name on the box six months ago." There's a pause, and I can hear voices in the background, male voices that make my skin crawl. "I have to go. They're asking questions about Oscar's woman and kid. Get to that box, Sierra. Tonight."
The line goes dead, and I'm left staring at the phone in my hand like it might explode. Two hours. Maybe less. I look over at Ryder's sleeping form in the bed next to mine, his dark curls spread across the pillow, one small hand still clutching his Hulk action figure. Four years old and already living in a world where his father gets murdered and his mother has to run in the middle of the night.
I won't let him grow up like this. I won't let him become what these men are.
Moving on autopilot, I start throwing our things into the two duffel bags I keep ready under the bed. Not much. A few changes of clothes, some of Ryder's toys, and the small amount of cash I've been hoarding for months. Everything we own fits into two bags, and the reality of that hits me harder than it should.
"Mama?" Ryder's voice is thick with sleep, and when I turn around, he's sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "What's going on?"
"We're going on a trip, baby." I force my voice to stay calm, steady. He doesn't need to see me fall apart. Not now. "Remember how we talked about adventures? Well, we're going on one right now."
"In the middle of the night?"
"Sometimes the best adventures happen when everyone else is sleeping." I move to his side of the bed, smoothing his hair back from his forehead. "But we need to be very quiet, okay? Like ninjas."
His eyes light up at the mention of ninjas, and some of the tension leaves my shoulders. He's so innocent, so trusting. He has no idea that his entire world is about to change.
It takes us twenty minutes to get ready, and every second feels like an eternity. I keep expecting to hear footsteps in the hallway, voices outside the door, the sound of men coming to drag us away. But the clubhouse is quiet except for the usual sounds of late-night activities I've learned to ignore.
We slip out the back door, the one that leads to the alley behind the building. I've planned this route a hundred times in my head, every step mapped out for maximum speed and minimum visibility. Ryder holds my hand without complaint, his Hulk toy tucked under his other arm.
