Chapter Twenty-Six

SHAY

"You need me to come in?" Boon asked, pulling a shopping cart from the line and holding it out for me.

"I'm sure I'll be fine," I told him, taking the cart from his hands and pulling it toward me. "I only need a few things for lunch tomorrow, so I shouldn't be more than ten minutes or so."

Boon shrugged and stepped back. "All good. I'll just hang out here. Scream if you need me," he joked, though it wasn't very good.

Bishop was adamant that I had a club member or a prospect with me whenever possible since we both knew I'd pushed Vince pretty close to the edge at Frank's party last weekend.

Bishop was afraid Frank wouldn't be able to control him. While I was sure Frank wouldn't condone Vince hurting me because of the trouble it would bring, it was just best for us to avoid situations where things could turn to shit.

So, the boys were under strict instructions to be a barrier against disaster.

Me, though? I was more concerned about what I was going to cook for lunch.

I told Bishop I'd take care of it. Missy had taken charge the past couple of weekends, and it was well known Missy did not cook, so takeaways it had been. And it's not that there had been a single complaint. Bishop's men were eager to hoover down anything and everything that tasted good, but I know when Lucy started the tradition, she cooked everything. It was all homemade.

And I wanted to bring it back to what she started.

When Calli first told me about Sunday lunch, I had to admit, I thought it was kind of funny. A bunch of bikers who had a permanent lunch date once a week? How absolutely insane the logistics of that must be. What if they were still drunk from the night before? Hungover? Sleeping? The entire concept didn't make much sense at the time, but when I first experienced it for myself, the realization was almost instant.

The club was about the brotherhood.

Sunday lunch was about the family that surrounded them.

They were separate and tightly intertwined at the same time.

Sunday was the day they got to relax and check in on each other. It was a day to show appreciation for the people who surrounded you, whether you were a patched brother, prospect, Old Lady, son, daughter, niece, nephew, or friend. Where the clubhouse had rules about who could be invited in or who could hang around, Sunday at Bishop's house was where everyone was welcomed.

It'd been a long time since I'd really felt like I was part of a family.

The night Mom died, that part of my life had died with her. From there, it had been a battle to stay alive.

And now, I'd seen how beautiful it can be to truly live.

That was why the quality of the food I was making needed to be amazing.

It was almost like a thank you. It was a show of my appreciation for these people taking me in like they had. Protecting me, having my back.

I marched inside, list in hand, moving down each aisle swiftly.

"You've got enough food there to feed an army." A shudder rolled up my spine, vibrating through my shoulders. His voice was what nightmares were made of. It was deep, dark, and disturbing.

I took a second, inhaling a long, deep breath before pushing my shoulders back and turning to face him. "Vince," I greeted with a nod. "What a strange place to randomly run into each other."

A lie.

We both knew this wasn't random.

I was nowhere near Bishop's house or where I would usually shop.

And Vince sure as hell wasn't the discount grocery-store type of guy with his fancy suit, leather shoes, and rings, which no doubt sported real diamonds on his fingers.

"The coincidence is mind-blowing," he countered, his tone just as sarcastic as mine, which surprised me a little because while Vince obviously had a temper, he was usually far more composed until I pushed the right buttons to set him off.

The day he'd stood in Backroad and taunted us about attending his dad's party, he'd taken absolute joy in knowing how uncomfortable both Bishop and I felt.

It had fueled him.

Yet, once again, we were in public—this time with me alone—and he seemed more tense.

"It's been a pleasure, but I really need to get goi—"

"Whatever you said to Sarah worked," he cut in, stepping in front of my cart and grabbing it tightly as I tried to go around him. I gripped the handle, trying to keep my shit together and not run away. "She took a page out of Alice's book and almost killed herself in the process… overdosed while we were at dinner so she knew someone would call an ambulance."

Because he wouldn't have. He would have let her die after what happened when he took in Alice. The sick bastard thought that if he were going to lose a girl anyway, it might as well be to fucking death.

Sarah was smart though, it seemed like she'd been around Vince for a while. Maybe she'd just needed the right push, and I'd been able to give her that shove.

"I hope she's all right," I told him, clinging to the cart a little tighter and hoping he couldn't see my hands shaking. If there was one thing I knew about Vince and men like him, it was that they fed on fear. It made them feel strong and powerful.

It was why they were in the business of whoring out women because they saw women—especially young, vulnerable women—as easy to control with fear.

Fear of being alone. Fear of being beaten. Fear of withdrawal.

He saw women as weak, and when a woman stands up to him like I've done more than fucking once, he doesn't know what to do. He's unsure of how to act or react.

In his mind, if he can't break me, I must be destroyed.

"Oh, she's fine," he answered finally with a shrug. His dark eyes looked straight through me for a minute before he finally blinked and focused back on my face. "I plan on making sure she lives the rest of her life happy, however long it may be."

My heart pounded a little harder.

Sarah hadn't escaped at all. He was going to hunt her down and probably kill her simply because she managed to evade him.

Sounds familiar.

My stomach churned, and the sounds of my past began to invade my senses.

Walk away, Shay. Don't give him the satisfaction.

Vince was looking for a reaction. He was looking for a reason to hurt me. Something he could justify to his father.

"Well, if you see her, tell her I said hi," I commented, managing with some astonishment to keep my voice calm, no cracking, breaking, or tightening, though what I really wanted to say was, I hope you rot in hell, you disgusting—

"You stupid fucking bitch," he hissed under his breath, pushing my cart and forcing me to shuffle backward. "You have no idea what you've done."

I dug in my feet, jolting his body to a hard stop. "We're done here," I snapped, growing increasingly irritated. I was sure that was what he wanted, for this back-and-forth to build to dangerous levels.

Not only for him and me but for everyone surrounding us.

I tried again to go around him, but this time, he stepped around the cart, getting right in close and forcing me to stumble back into some shelves. "I have clients waiting. They need concubines, and now, because of you, I have to go to them and tell them the women they have bought are no longer available." You could almost see the steam blowing out of his ears.

Suddenly, the pieces fell into place. He was picking up girls off the street and selling them off.

It's why he hadn't just let Alice get away the first time, why he'd gone after her. Because someone already owned her. It's why he had already found Sarah.

She wasn't free.

No. Far from it.

I raised my eyes, looking up at this piece of shit standing over me like he was so goddamn intimidating. He wanted me to cower. He should have learned by now.

"That's really unfortunate," I whispered, even leaning in a little. "Maybe it's time for a change of business, huh?"

Furious was not even the right word to describe how his eyes changed, and his entire face darkened—a hard feat while standing under fluorescent lights bright enough to rival the sun. "Or maybe it's just time for a change of plan."

"Ma'am, are you all right?" an older woman wearing a store uniform asked, glaring at Vince. "If you want, I can call the po—"

"We're fine," Vince cut in suddenly, the mask switching back as he pulled a smile onto his face and finally stepped away from me. "Sorry, we just got a little carried away. Shay, it was so good to see you again. Maybe we'll catch up soon, yeah?"

The switch had been flipped, and I reached for my neck, rubbing at it to try and ease away the emotional whiplash.

There were no words.

Nothing came out as he strolled off down the aisle with almost a skip in his fucking step. That was when I knew I wasn't dealing with some egomaniac who just got off on pimping out girls. Nope.

Vince was a complete psycho.

And that made him more dangerous than I'd anticipated.