Chapter 12

Kracken

I'm still in shock that even though she's not talking, she seems far more relaxed and livelier than she was after her last abduction. We rode with the rest of my brothers until Vicksburg, Mississippi, then stopped to rest while I waited for the truck and bike trailer to be delivered at the designated location. I knew Moira had been abducted while living on the streets, so she had next to nothing when we left the facility she was being kept at—no clothes, personal hygiene items, or even a fucking hairbrush, and she damn sure wasn't given anything while she was held captive a second time. So, after waving off my brothers, we went to Walmart to grab her enough things to get by with until we reached Georgia.

"I only shop when I absolutely have to," I explain, as we walk into the bustling store. It's the middle of the fucking day, why are all of these people out and about? Doesn't anyone work anymore? "In fact, I have no problem shopping online, but I know you need things now, so we're gonna get them."

She starts shaking her head. Smirking, I nod mine then lean in and tap her nose. "Until you decide you're going to start talking to me, I'm gonna do what I want."

I burst out laughing when she not only rolls her eyes at me, but she also sticks out her tongue too. Grabbing a cart, I move toward the women's section, Moira right by my side. She stops at the shirts, and I watch to see what style she picks out, waiting to see if she has a color preference or style she prefers. Once I see what size she wears, I wander off and start finding others I think she'd like, then put them in the cart.

Soon, she has a few pairs of shorts, some jeans, and pajamas added to the pile, and I quickly realize that we're going to need a way to get it all back to the hotel we're staying at because my saddlebags only hold so much. She blushes when she picks out some sports bras, and a pack of underwear, causing me to hide my smirk. Because she has absolutely no idea whatsoever, that at some point, I'll know every little thing there is to know about her.

It happens when we're in the health and beauty section so she can get the stuff she needs when I feel her clutch my bicep in a tight grip. Looking down at her, I quietly ask, "Moira? What's going on? Are you alright? Was this too much?"

I don't know why I just asked her a bunch of questions in rapid succession when she currently doesn't speak, but then, I watch her open and close her mouth several times before the sweetest sound I've ever heard passes through her sensuous lips. It's raspy, unused, and still, I want to hear more of it.

"K-k-kracken, I-I-I think that's my mother," she whispers, her body trembling as she curls into me. I'm sure she doesn't realize she's using me as her protective shield, which causes my chest to rumble as my instincts to keep her safe roars to life.

Fury engulfs me seeing the abject terror displayed on my woman's face. She's pale, clammy, and of course, shaking like a leaf. Turning her so we're facing one another, I lean in and murmur, "Where, babe?"

"F-f-five o'clock," she stammers, tears shining in her eyes, shuddering so badly now that I'm worried she's going to pass out on me. The last thing we need is to draw any unwanted attention to ourselves.

"Okay, here's what we're gonna do," I reply, moving us in the opposite direction of the woman Moira believes to be her mother. "We're going to go to the self-checkout line, get everything paid for, then leave, Moira. She hasn't noticed us, so we're going to try and keep it that way, babe."

My concern, of course, is I'm alone with her, in a strange town, and I don't have any of my brothers at my back. If Moira's correct, it's possible that she could be recognized by others and there's no way I want her in the path of danger. It's one of the main reasons she and I are heading to Georgia instead of making our way home. The only thing anyone who might come after us, or more specifically, her, doesn't realize is that I'll protect her with my life and go down smiling while taking as many of them to Hell as I possibly can.

"She might not even recognize me," Moira finally states once we're close to the checkout line. Her voice is coming out a little clearer and less stunted. "It's been a long time, and I don't look the same now. My hair's a lot shorter, but still a mess, and I never wore clothes like these when I lived at home."

I'm glad to hear she's not stammering any longer—a sense of pride enraptures me that I'm the one she's comfortable with, and has chosen to open up to, but her voice is still raspy, so I grab a bottle of water, break open the seal, and hand it to her as I order, "Drink this."

"You can't just do that, Kracken!" she admonishes, attempting to push the bottle back at me, looking around to make sure no employees noticed I've opened it without paying for it first.

"Babe, gonna pay for it, but you haven't spoken for a long time, and it sounds like it hurts. This will help ease the scratchiness."

She takes the water and drinks some before putting the cap back on and setting it in the cart. "It doesn't, not really," she murmurs, as we make our way to the checkout section.

Regardless, until she starts sounding less like she gargled with gravel and more like I presume she normally does, I'll be giving her plenty of fluids to drink until her voice box has healed from its unuse. Hell, I put a couple of those packages of Ricola lozenges in the cart as well, just in case her throat does start getting irritated.

* * *

"Good thing we swung by the sporting goods section before we went over to the health and beauty aisles and grabbed these, huh?" I ask as I finish attaching the duffel bag with bungee cords onto the back of the bike.

"I wasn't sure why we did, but now I understand," she replies, one of the throat lozenges in her mouth.

I hide my smirk when I see it because she tried to make a fuss when she saw them on the conveyor belt. Yet, here she is, sucking on one while drinking more of the water. I think my woman's throat is bothering her more than she let on, but that's okay. It's my privilege to be able to anticipate her needs and take care of her as long as I draw breath.

Once I'm sure everything is tied down and secure, I straddle my bike, then hide my grin when she manages to get on behind me with little effort. Seems my woman has caught on quickly, which makes me happy because I enjoy riding. I do need to get her some leathers and her own helmet, of course, since I live by the adage to dress for the slide, not the ride. I definitely don't ever plan to lay my bike down, especially not with her on it, but shit happens. Assholes in cages tend not to see us, despite the fact our bikes are loud, we have a lit headlamp, and most of the time as a club, there are several brothers alongside us for the ride.

It doesn't take long for us to get back to the hotel we're staying at, and after helping her off, I grab all of our bags in one trip, making her giggle. The sound is so unexpected, I find myself chuckling as I open up the door to our room and set them down. I'm glad that Hawg set us up in a room and sent me the digital key card, so we don't have to mess with the clerk at the front desk. This is a higher-end hotel, so I'm hoping that the story Butcher told us about his and Selah's escapades at one of the smaller, no-tell motels won't be happening here. I can't believe someone has the balls to put cameras up and watch unsuspecting clientele while they undress and do whatever they came for. Without letting Moira know what I'm doing, I search the entire grid of the room before flickering on the lights. No signs of any laser beams, so I'm content to let her in behind me.

"I think that's the funniest thing I've ever seen," she says as she starts opening the bags and sorting everything out, then repacking it into the duffel bag.

"What?" I ask, checking my phone to see that Banshee sent an update on their ETA.

They're making excellent timing, but since it's radio silence with respect to what's happening at home right now, I can only presume that he's gotten information from either Brick or Hawg about the situation.

"The fact you carried all of the bags in one trip," she replies. "Do you think they have a guest laundromat here?"

"Why?" I question.

"Because I always wash my clothes before wearing them. The dyes and stuff are harsh on one"s skin, you know? Plus, you never know if someone has tried them on, except the underwear, of course."

The face she makes has me chuckling as I go over to the desk that's in the room and pick up the binder. Opening it, I see that they have a guest laundry room on each floor, and the desk at the lobby sells laundry detergent for those who need it.

"Babe, gonna run down and get some soap and change so you can get your new things washed."

"Thank you," she whispers as she starts to rip open the bags and remove the tags that contain her under things.

"Not a problem, roisin," I reply, still enthused about hearing her voice.

By the time I return, she has everything separated and ready to go, so we walk down to the guest laundromat and after she loads the machines and adds the soap, I put the coins in and get them started.

"Okay, babe, how about we go back to our room, and we'll order room service. We need an early night so we can get on the road as early as possible in the morning. Got about an eight or so hour trip tomorrow and there's no way in hell I want to be driving through the mountains while it's dark out to find the cabin we're going to," I say, taking her hand in mine.

It's so much smaller than mine, almost delicate, that I'm amazed that she survived the beatings she endured the first time, much less the second. Thankfully, even though she initially startles from the contact, she doesn't pull away from me.

* * *

"I'll be back shortly, Moira, going to transfer the clothes," I tell her as I pocket the loose change to pay for the dryers.

"I appreciate that, I don't think I can move," she says, patting her belly and moaning while glancing at the remnants of her dinner.

"Then just relax, I've got this," I reply, chuckling at her starfish pose on the mattress.

She shyly smiles at me, her food coma grin has me biting my bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud. "Yeah, I could do with a shower, but I need to wait until my clothes are dry, I guess."

"Got a clean pair of sweats in my bag. You can use them until your stuff is done if you'd like. Although, they'll probably swallow you whole, but at least you'll be able to get the road grime washed off of you."

"Then that's what I'll do," she says, her body movements lazy as she rolls over and onto her side.

I grab our trash and toss it, then pick up the room key I got from the clerk when we went and picked up the supplies to wash and dry her clothes and slide it in my pocket. She's already in the bathroom and I can hear the water running, so I pull out the sweats from my duffel bag and knock on the door. When she cracks it open, I hand her the clothes, and say, "Be back in a few, babe."

"Thanks, Kracken."

Leaving the room, I head back down to the guest laundry facility, and swap out the clothes, then decide to run back downstairs and pick up a couple of sodas for us for the room. The hotel lobby has one of those small incidental areas, so I also pick up some chips, a few candy bars, and a magazine for her to flip through during our drive tomorrow. There's so much I want to learn about her, and I can't wait to see what the future holds.