Page 15 of Risk (Mayhem Makers: MMM #3)
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
McKenna
After a long fucking day, I tried to leave to go and get Isla her birthday dinner only to realize I couldn’t leave.
Someone had padlocked our door while we were sleeping the night before.
When they got the chance to do that and neither of us hearing them is beyond me.
Considering the night before I was up and down, makes it more mysterious because I know they would’ve had to drill holes in the wall in order to lock us in.
Right now, I’m in the shower on my ass, cradling myself while crying my damn eyes out.
This is how it was in the beginning before they loosened my leash—locked in my apartment like a dog in a cage.
Being trapped is a horrendous feeling I wouldn’t wish on anyone—not even my worst enemy outside of Marshall, I’d love to see him shackled.
I’ve never hated anyone other than him. Even Risk’s betrayal didn’t hit me as hard as this bullshit has.
“Dammit,” I hear Isla yell from the living room.
She’s been kicking the door, banging on it, and screaming her head off since we discovered we were stuck inside like rats in a maze.
We have nowhere to turn outside of these walls.
What little independence I’ve earned has been stripped from me.
“Isn’t there anyone we can call to come help us get out of here, McKenna? ”
No matter how much she’s tried, nearly yelling herself hoarse, nobody has come to our rescue.
It feels as if I’ve been hitting my head against a brick wall with as many times as I’ve explained that we don’t know who we can trust to come help us get out of this apartment.
My head is pounding from my hard sobs and trying to calm her down.
Hiccupping, I try again, asking, “How do we know they wouldn’t be tied to Marshall one way or another, Isla?
I know for a fact he has law enforcement in his pocket, if we called the emergency hotline, we could end up talking to one of his minions. ”
“That would be bad,” she acknowledges.
“The worst,” I contribute. “Give me a bit and I’ll join you in the living room. Okay?”
“Okay,” she sullenly responds. In my mind, I picture her shoulders and head drooping as she scuttles away, feeling withdrawn from life. It’s something I’ve done in response to admitting defeat while accepting the wretched fact that there’s no escaping this cesspool of degenerative assholes.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my words being drowned out by the spray of the water.
I don’t know who all I’m apologizing to.
There are too many that've been victimized by Marshall and for some damn reason, I feel responsible for them all. I give myself a few more minutes to drown in my sorrows before standing up, turning the knob off and stepping out of the shower, wrapping a towel around myself. Wiping the fog off the mirror I stare at myself, not recognizing the woman staring back at me. I’m the perfect example of a woman who’s all but given up.
Something I vowed I’d never do. There are only so many things I can tolerate before I give in and don’t care.
“Death is the only freedom you’ll ever find, Kenna,” I say to my mirror image.
Fed up, tired of fighting a battle I’ll never win, I smash my fists into the glass and watch it shatter into a spider web pattern.
I hit it again and again until it shards and glass starts to break loose.
With blood soaked hands, I dig into it until I pull a large sliver out.
There’s no reason for me to leave a note behind, everyone I give a shit about will finally be liberated from me and the iron cage I’ve placed them in. “Goodbye.”
With my attention on the glass, I don’t hear the crashing of the door or Isla’s screams. The only thing I can concentrate on is ending this charade I’ve been forced into.
I just can’t do it anymore. I’m sorry that Phoenix will have to live without me, but I know my mother will protect him and keep him safe. He’ll have a better life without me.
“What are you doing?” I hear Isla scream as the bathroom door flies off the hinges. The glass is already pressed against my wrist, it’s pebbling with blood as strong arms band around me and one of them goes to the hand holding the glass, pulling it away.
“Don’t do this, Kenna. Let me fix this for you,” Risk says into my ear.
“I’ve lost you once, don’t leave me this way.
This is final, there’s no coming back. You’re stronger than this, Vixen.
I know you’re in some deep shit, but I’m gonna take care of it.
Give me a chance to make things right. Please. ”
Through the broken mirror, our eyes meet before mine roll to the back of my head and I pass out.
“Don’t touch her!” I rouse when I hear Isla scream. “Leave her alone! Get out, get out, get out!” Powerful arms I haven’t felt in so long hold me to an even stronger, solid chest.
When Risk growls, I know shit’s about to hit the fan and my eyes fly open. “Isla,” I croak out, “it’s okay.”
“None of this is okay,” she screeches. “I’ve had enough! I want to go home!” I glance over at her and see her with my Louisville slugger gripped in her hands, she’s primed and ready to take a swing.
“Wouldn’t do that if I were you, darlin’,” Conan warns. Hearing him has me scanning the room and my entire body goes on alert when I see my bedroom crowded with men from my past, ones that were closer to me than any blood brother ever could be.
“Guys,” I rasp, my throat raw from my earlier breakdown. “What are y’all doing here?”
“We’re the rescue squad,” Kodiak growls. “You have a lot of explaining to do, Kenna. But that can wait until we get back to the clubhouse.”
“I can’t leave with you. I’m sorry, but this was a wasted trip,” I state quietly but firmly.
“Why the hell can’t you leave with us?” Risk asks, his voice a dull roar.
“Doesn’t matter, she’s not getting a choice,” Kodiak dictates, not looking guilty about his commandment in the least.
“Kodiak,” I whisper his name but not getting another word in edgewise.
“Stop talking, Kenna,” he says, snapping his fingers at me. “You’ve played this game on your own and you are not winning. This, whatever it is, is done.”
“You don’t understand,” I cry. “It’s too dangerous, you have to stay out of this.”
“Too late for that,” Risk confirms. “We’re knee deep in it now and we’re not going anywhere until we find out what you’ve gotten yourself involved in.”
“Risk! You’re going to get yourself or your brothers killed. I’m not worth it!” I wail.
“You are!” he howls. “You’re worth everything!”
“I’m worth nothing!” I shout, twisting in his arms and facing him. “Haven’t you already proved that to me? Let it go and leave me the hell alone.”
“Never. Never again, Kenna. Pack your shit, we’re done discussing this… for now.”
“We aren’t,” I dispute.
“We are,” he firmly says. “Don’t make me spank your ass in front of your friend and my brothers.”
“Don’t threaten me, Risk,” I decree, my voice flat.
“Sounds like a good time if you ask me,” Conan tacks on. “Got any popcorn in your cupboards, Kenna?”
I swivel and stare at him, not phasing him in the least. “You’re not helping things, Conan.”
“That’s not my job, Kenna. My job,” he says, pointing at his embroidered VP patch, “is to keep my family safe and alive. That family, in case you’ve forgotten, includes you.”
“That stopped a long time ago, Conan,” I whisper, tears now trailing down my cheeks.
“You all abandoned me and sent me away like I was nothing more than a nuisance. You chose sides, as you should have because Risk is your brother, I’m not denying that, but it still hurts.
I’m a realist and know that your loyalty is not to me.
I’m not asking anything from you, any of you.
Please just go. Keep living your lives and forget I even exist, you’re all good at doing that. ”
“That’s a low blow, McKenna,” Conan barks. “You two couldn’t even be in the same room as one another without y’all fist fighting. We did what we thought was best by giving y’all some space from each other. We never stopped caring about you, sister, we simply were giving you a time out.”
“Fuck this, I’m done,” Kodiak mumbles. “Regulator, Rev, pack her shit, and the little menace’s too. We’re getting out of here and taking them back to our turf where we will be getting answers.”
“Dammit. Y’all aren’t listening to me!”
“Because everything coming out of your mouth is pure shit,” Risk grumbles. “You aren’t pushing us away, the sooner you realize that the sooner we can get shit taken care of.”
When I go to argue, a hand cups over my mouth. “No more, darlin’,” Conan insists. “This has been decided. You can come willingly, or we’ll force your hand. Decision time is over. Pack your bags, Kenna, or we’re going to do it for you.”
My eyes widen when I realize that if they go through my things, I’ll be exposed. There’s no changing their minds on this and if I don’t comply, they’ll discover things about me I never want them to know.
“Okay, I’ll pack,” I say, surrendering.