Chapter 1: Gabby

GABBY

"Ireally wish you could go with us," my sister said into the phone.

"I do, too, but there was no way I could miss two weeks of school." I was in the middle of my last semester of school to become a nurse practitioner. Between classes, clinicals, and work, I had little to no free time.

"I know, and I understand. I just hate leaving you here when we're going to be so far away."

I laughed. "Keegan, I'll be fine. We don't even live in the same city."

"Cedar Valley is only thirty minutes away. Scotland is a different story," she reminded me. My niece and nephew were going on a school trip to Scotland for two weeks, and my sister, her husband, and my grandfather were attending as chaperones. While it was going to be the first time they went on a trip without me, I think she was more worried about it than I was. Sure, I was disappointed about not being able to go, but it couldn't be helped.

"I know, but it's not like you're leaving me here all alone. The club's here. I can call any one of them for help if something happens."

"Promise you will?"

"Of course," I promised. "But nothing's going to happen. Between school and work, I don't have time to get into trouble."

"I can't wait for you to be finished."

"Me, too, Sissy," I said honestly. I was more than ready to start the next phase of my life. I was so close, but it felt like time was crawling at a snail's pace.

"It'll be here before you know it," she reassured me.

"So will your flight. Have you finished packing?" I asked, hoping to take the focus off of me.

"Are you kidding?" she asked with a laugh. "I still have a load of clothes waiting to be dried. Meanwhile, I don't think Jake has even started packing, and Quincy has repacked three times trying to get everything in one suitcase while also meeting the weight requirements."

"What about Jacob and Papa?"

She snorted. "They've been ready to go since this morning. And they've been getting in the way ever since."

I laughed. "Sounds like them."

"Oh, I need to go; I just heard the dryer. I'll call you once we get to the hotel. It will take us around twenty-four hours to get there."

"Okay. Be careful and enjoy your trip."

"I'll try. You be careful, too. Love you."

"I will. Love you, too, Sissy."

Even though Keegan was my sister, technically my half sister, she'd adopted me when I was five years old and had always been more like a mother to me. Our mother died while giving birth to me. Keegan was in college at the time, leaving me to be raised by my father, a corrupt politician. I don't remember the first few years of my life, which I count as a blessing, but I have a few memories of life with my biological father, and none of them are warm and fuzzy. He was a cold and calculating man whose only use for me was to boost his political career.

I vaguely remembered being sent away to a boarding school for a brief period before a woman showed up claiming to be my grandmother and whisked me away to live with Keegan. At the time, I didn't know that my father had been arrested for several crimes, including human trafficking, and Keegan worked with the FBI to put him behind bars for life in exchange for custody of me. I was just happy to be with her, her husband, Jacob, and my two new grandparents—Keegan's grandfather, Papa, and Jacob's mother, Gigi. A few years later, my family grew when Gigi married her bodyguard, who became Papa Ronan, and then again when Keegan and Jacob had children—Jake and Quincy.

The sound of a text message pulled me back to the present.

Byte: Your sister asked me to text you so my contact info would be handy in case you need anything. I'll be around. Don't hesitate to call if something comes up.

I shook my head and smiled. My sister was a worrier, but it didn't bother me. She had gone out of her way to make sure I had a happy life, and I would be forever grateful for her.

Gabby: Thanks, Byte. I appreciate it, but I'm sure I'll be fine.

Even though Byte was a member of the Blackwings MC like Jacob and Papa, I always considered him more Keegan's friend than Jacob's. I didn't know him very well since I only saw him at club functions, but he seemed like a nice guy. Then again, all the Blackwings members were nice guys.

I glanced at the time and sighed. I had just enough time to shower and eat dinner before I needed to be in bed. I had to work a twelve-hour shift at the hospital the next day, and I learned early on that a good night's sleep was the key to making it through such a long day.

I was exhausted when I got home after almost fourteen hours on my feet. It was nothing new. Twelve-hour shifts were rarely, if ever, twelve hours. I don't know why, but it seemed like most emergencies happened right before or during shift change. I was doing my final round on my patients when a family member stepped out into the hallway screaming for help. The patient wasn't one of mine, but I was there, so I went to help. I walked into the room to find the patient completely non-responsive. I called a code, started resuscitation efforts, and waited for the code team to arrive. Forty-five minutes later, the patient had been transferred to the ICU, and I had thirty minutes of paperwork to complete before I could leave.

The thing that really pissed me off was that the patient's primary nurse clocked out and went home while all of this was happening. It was those kinds of moments that really made me yearn for the day I finished school. Or, more specifically, the day I passed the exam to become a nurse practitioner.

It wasn't that I hated my job, per se. I just didn't like a few of the people I worked with. And since a lot of us worked a set schedule, I frequently worked with the handful I didn't care for. But I wouldn't have to be there much longer. I reminded myself of that every day.

I trudged to my room and dropped my bags on the floor beside my bed. I gave it a longing look before I turned and forced myself to walk to the bathroom. I desperately needed a shower, but I really wanted to fall face-first into my mattress and go to sleep.

"Your clothes are covered in germs and who knows what else," I told myself. Working at the hospital often left me feeling like a walking biohazard by the end of my shift. So, I begrudgingly stripped off my clothes and took a quick shower.

While I was getting dressed, I heard the sound of a floorboard creaking in the living room. My heart began to race as adrenaline rushed through me. Someone was in the house, and no one should have been in the house except me.

As quickly and as quietly as I could, I picked up my cell phone and tiptoed to my closet. Carefully opening the secret door, I stepped inside the small space and slid the door back into place before securing the locks. It wasn't exactly a panic room. It was more of a top-of-the-line hiding spot. When my brother-in-law insisted on adding it to my closet when I first moved into the house, I thought he was being his usual overprotective self. As I used it to hide from an intruder, I'd never been more grateful.

With shaking hands, I made sure my phone was silenced and placed a call to Byte.

"Hey Gab—" he started.

I cut him off with a harsh whisper. "Someone's in my house."

"Are you in the safe room?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Stay quiet, but stay on the phone with me," he instructed and moved the phone away from his mouth. "Hey, man! Gotta run. This should cover it."

"Can you still hear them?" he asked.

"Yes." I could hear someone moving around the house. They were no longer trying to be quiet, and I hoped that was because they thought no one was home.

"I'm on my way," Byte said. "It'll be okay. I'll be there soon."

The sounds got progressively louder, and I knew the intruder was in my bedroom. I jumped and almost let out a scream when something thumped against one of the walls surrounding me. My heart was beating against my chest faster than it ever had before while I was trying to breathe and not breathe at the same time.

And then it felt like my heart stopped when I heard someone softly say, "Gabby girl, where are you?"

It was a man. And he said my name. At least, I thought he did.

Please don't let him find me.

Please don't let him find me.

Please don't let him find me.

My internal chant was interrupted by the sound of motorcycle pipes, which did little to comfort me. There hadn't been enough time for Byte, or any of the Blackwings, to get to me.

"Fuck!" I heard from a male voice I didn't recognize, followed by the sound of someone running through the house.

"Hey!" another voice yelled. "Stop right there!"

Then more running.

A gunshot.

A GUNSHOT!

Footsteps pounded through the house, right into my bedroom.

Someone knocked on the secret door hiding me.

Before I could drop dead on the spot, he spoke. "Gabby, it's Byte. Open up."