Page 95 of No Fear
Chapter Eighteen
Earlier, when they all talked through the plan, it had seemed simple. Easy even. Make a phone call. Tell Craig she was home and they needed to talk. Wait for him to arrive. The boys would be waiting outside and once he was here, they’d take care of him. Easy.
Only, as the phone rang in her ear again and again and again, her hands had started to shake and the doubts and fears had worked their way back in.
What if she couldn’t do this? What if Craig didn’t pick up? What if he didn’t come home? Would they blame her if the plan didn’t work?
Voicemail picked up after the fourth ring and she tried to steady her breathing. It was a basic setup. One step above a burner phone. The automated voice said she’d connected with the right number and then a moment later the beep came.
“Uh… Craig?” Her voice was a whisper and she cleared her throat, “Craig, it’s Ra-Ra-Rachel. I need to talk to you. P-please.” She swallowed hard, “Something happened and… I’m home. Things with R-Remy, they’re over and I need your help. I… I’m home. Where are you? Come home. Please.”
She hung up and dropped her head into her hands. That had been quite possibly the worst voicemail message ever. She blew out another unsteady breath and wondered if her brother was screening his calls. Not that she was necessarily surprised that he hadn’t picked up for her. She doubted he even had her number saved. But if he wasn’t answering his phone, she was left to wonder just where he was and what he was doing.
He’d certainly been in the trailer recently.
She looked around and scowled at the mess. On its best day, when she’d been living here and cleaning every chance she got, it had still been dingy and dirty. The trailer showed its age and the wear of its indifferent occupants. But in the time since she’d left, it had gone from simply worn to dirty to disgusting.
There was trash overflowing from the can in the corner. Piles of take-out food wrappers littered the floor and coffee table. Empty beer bottles covered most of the hard surfaces and mostly empty liquor bottles were tossed about haphazardly as well. There was a new stain on the sofa that she was fairly certain was vomit but she hadn’t gone close enough to find out for sure. The entire trailer smelled of it and her stomach turned with the urge to throw up. The pile of dishes in the sink was strange since Craig couldn’t cook to save his own life but she also hadn’t gone close enough to inspect them because a bug had crawled out of there earlier and she thought she was going to hurl.
They’d never lived like this before but she saw now that was only because she’d refused to let them. She had cooked. She had cleaned. She had taken care of the trailer because it was her mothers, because it was hers, or it should have been. And she’d tried to take care of Craig too but clearly that had been as wasted an effort as keeping this run-down trailer clean.
Her phone beeped and she jumped half a foot into the air. She gave a shaky laugh and then looked around the trailer. Still alone, she shook her head at her stupidity. It was just a phone. It couldn’t hurt her.
She raised it and smiled at the text message from Remy.
Love you babe.
She typed back a quick response and then put the phone aside. She was too nervous and too scared to simply sit here and do nothing while she waited. So she decided, despite everything, she might as well clean.
She knew the plan. She couldn’t leave the trailer now that she’d made the call. If Craig showed and she wasn’t here, he’d get nervous and bolt. And the boys couldn’t come in and keep her company, if he saw them before they saw him, he’d get nervous and run. She was on her own with only the knowledge that a few Bomar boys were tucked out there in the dark somewhere keeping an eye on the trailer for movement.
Remy was out there too but he wasn’t alone. For that much she was thankful. He and Lincoln had fought on his involvement for a good half hour before Colt finally stepped in and taken his cousin’s side. The look of betrayal on Remy’s face had been awful to see but the truth was, she agreed with the other men. If he was going to be there, he needed someone to watch his back, and hold him back if necessary.
He would come charging in to protect her the second Craig showed and that could be dangerous for all of them. It was best if Craig made it inside and let his guard down. Then, when the guys came for him he would be stuck inside with nowhere to run. He wouldn’t be able to get away.
That was the plan and honestly, she thought it was a pretty good one all things considered. She called for help. Craig came running, hopefully, even if it was just because he thought he might have a new way to stick it to the Bomars. And then once he was cornered, they took him away and…
She didn’t like to think about what came after theand. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good. Lincoln hadn’t gone into details when they were planning this and for that, she was grateful. She didn’t need to know what he intended to do to her brother. All she needed to know was that he was out of their lives and the people she loved were safe.
During their little planning meeting, Lincoln had let slip that the reason for his extended absence the last week was meetings with the Santos Peridos MC. She’d only known MC stood for motorcycle club because Sons of Anarchy was in her Netflix queue. She certainly hadn’t been aware a real motorcycle gang existed nearby but even with her limited knowledge she knew enough to know they must be dangerous and that if they were talking to Lincoln he was far more connected in the dangerous underworld than she’d ever realized. Whichever members of that gang Craig was working with to destroy the Bomars, they were being handled on their end. Lincoln hadn’t said what exactly handled meant in that situation but she could guess.
Trying to wipe her mind of what would happen when her brother showed, Rachel busied herself by stuffing as much trash as she could into the extra bags she found beneath the sink. After that, she pulled out cleaning supplies and started wiping down every available surface. She didn’t wash the dishes though. Something about washing the plates that Craig had left to rot with mold and mildew left her uneasy and she couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was just that bug.
She had no idea how much time had passed when the trailer began to look as though it was inhabitable for humans. She put the bags of trash outside the door and did a quick glance around. Not a thing looked out of place.
She knew Ford was out there somewhere, though not in his ostentatious car. He was hiding in some beat-up old thing he’d scrounged up from the garage. She thought they’d parked it a few slots down but it wasn’t there and she had no idea where he’d have gone. She knew he wouldn’t have left though so she didn’t worry about that. He was here somewhere. She could practically feel someone watching her. The hair on the back of her neck rose and she ducked back inside.
Colt was out there too, despite a lot of arguing with Skylar about it. He’d wanted to be part of this because of what they’d done to him. His girlfriend hadn’t wanted him diving back into the family business of blood and mayhem but since he’d sworn that all he would do was keep an eye on Remy, she’d eventually caved. Skylar was at home, alone in their apartment, though despite the late hour she was probably wide awake.
Lincoln on the other hand was neither at home nor alone. He’d gone somewhere public and at this hour that had meant to the bar. They’d all agreed it was best that nobody associate him with whatever happened tonight. If anyone saw Craig come home before he went missing again, Lincoln needed an alibi. As the leader of the Bomars, he had the most to lose.
They all protected each other. That was why Colt was with Remy right now, keeping him company and keeping him sane so he didn’t barge in too soon. That was why Ford had taken the job picking her up and watching her now, so that nobody else would have to get involved. And, she liked to think, because he kind of liked her just a little bit too. Because she was going to be one of them when all of this was over.
Rachel yawned and looked at the clock on the microwave. It was nearly one in the morning. She had called Craig a little after eleven. It had been almost two hours and there had been no word from him. She glanced at the phone, found another text from Remy telling her if she wanted they could call it all off but she only sighed and typed back another quick message letting him know that they were doing no such thing.
Craig was well known for staying out half the night. It wasn’t even that late. Not really. The bars wouldn’t close for another hour. He might not be ignoring her plea to come home. He might just be drunk somewhere with a whore. That had always been more important to him before so why would it have changed now?
Rachel chewed her bottom lip as she stared at the closed door to her bedroom. In all of her cleaning, she’d never glanced inside. She’d been too worried about what she would find. If Craig had left the rest of the apartment to this sort of disrepair she wasn’t sure what he would have done to her private space.
