Page 11 of Striker’s Foul (Shiver of Chaos #3)

AMELIA

G ambit lifts the large wooden gate, and we step off the elevator into a spacious, open room.

Jude is on the sofa playing video games with Leif, the man we bought the warehouse from.

Ridley is in the kitchen, cooking. A beautiful young woman with brown hair and caramel-colored highlights stands nearby.

She’s sporting a small pregnancy bump. Gambit walks over to her and leans down to kiss her.

“Don’t manhandle my kid with me standing right here,” Ridley says, joking.

I just stand and stare, taking it all in as my thoughts swirl. Luke thinks Harold might have something to do with the attacks on both of us.

Jude finally looks over and notices us.

“Mom.” He stands up, and with those long legs of his, he’s wrapping me in an embrace before Luke can even move his arm wrapped around my shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asks Luke once he finally pulls away.

“I’m okay, kid. Sorry to interrupt your exploring, but I needed to make sure you were safe, as well as your mom.”

“It’s okay. What’s the plan now?”

“Don’t worry about that. We’re heading to your place for the night. As soon as the damage is fixed at my place, we’ll go there and stay. Good?”

“What? Luke, I don’t know if we’re ready to move in together.” I step away from him, needing to take control of the chaos. I can’t let my life be dictated by others. I’ve taken care of myself and Jude for too long to let Luke come in and take over.

“Amelia,” Luke says, and I know he’s serious when he doesn’t call me angel.

“I told you, the man who attacked you was the same one who shot me. He had a partner. We need to be careful. I won’t let my guard down.

” He leans down close, whispering so only I can hear.

“Plus, I left so much of my baby batter inside you last night, you could be carrying another one of my kids. You’re my wife. Remember.”

He flicks my necklace, and the shock of his words and the truth have me nodding. I have to trust this man. He didn’t leave me. He was forced to.

“I’ve been in charge of Jude’s and my protection for a long time.”

“Well, to be honest, I’ve been fielding your security for years now,” Julian says. I glance over to where he’s sitting on a bar stool.

The elevator opens, and several men step out. I recognize a couple of them, but there’s also a woman and a small boy with them.

“Amelia, this is Hemingway, his woman, Blythe, and their son, Hartley. This is Grim, Cowboy, Jumper, and Frost. They’re the officers with my club. Butcher couldn’t make it because he’s on another assignment.” Luke points to each person as he introduces them.

I recognize Cowboy and Grim from the first time they came to the roadhouse with Luke. As I look over the group, the woman looks slightly familiar to me.

“You’re the reporter who was at the Motorcycles, Mobsters, and Mayhem, aren’t you?”

Blythe smiles and steps away from Hemingway. “Yes, I was there.” She reaches out and takes my hand. I shake hers.

“I was there too. I saw you. I also read your article and loved it.”

Motorcycles, Mobsters, and Mayhem was a romance book signing I attended in Frisco. It took place a month after my papa died. I drove up with my aunt and cousin, who flew down from Indiana to go with me.

“That’s cool. Thank you. I’m here because I want to help you release a statement.”

I step back and look at Luke.

“Harold told me I couldn’t make a statement without clearing it with him first. I’m not sure I want to go against him.”

“How about we start with the easy stuff?” Blythe pulls my attention back. “We’ll go with something simple, like how you moved away years ago to live with your family in Texas, and now you’ve decided to return home with your son to introduce our town to some good Texas barbecue.”

“Harold said not to mention Texas.”

“It’s up to you what you share with the press.

But if you remain silent, they’ll make up their own assumptions and stories.

Like this one.” She holds up her phone, and I see pictures of me walking into the salon this morning.

They’re zoomed in on my bruises, and the report claims Luke gave them to me.

My chest tightens. “Fine. But I want it made clear I was attacked by an intruder at the bar, not Luke.”

“I can do that,” she says.

Blythe sits with me at the breakfast bar, and we work on her laptop, drafting a statement. Jude, Leif, and now Hartley continue playing video games. Gambit’s wife, Franci, sits with us while the others head into the next room.

“You know, if you release a statement saying you and Luke are co-parenting your son, it will keep the masses from assuming the wrong thing,” Franci suggests.

I look at Blythe for advice.

“It’s a good thought, but people are going to make awful assumptions no matter what. The press can spin it and say Amelia kept Jude away because Striker was unfit. When I used to dig for dirt on an assignment, I always went for the worst-case scenario.”

“Because this town has always considered me trash,” Luke says as he steps out of the den. “Angel, let’s get going. Come on, kiddo.”

I hate that this town still sees him as garbage. He’s a war hero and was an amazing soccer player. He got out of a bad neighborhood and didn’t follow his parents’ paths.

“Is my car downstairs?” I ask Julian, and he nods.

After saying goodbye, we step outside into the night.

Several cars line the street, but I don’t see mine.

I click the key fob, and everything lights up.

Then I’m thrown backward. I slam into the building, hard.

Screams and loud noises fill the air, but everything feels distant, like I’m hearing it through a tunnel.

My body aches, and I can’t make sense of anything.

I turn my head and see my son sprawled on the ground. Luke is lying further away. Moving to my knees, I crawl toward Jude. His eyes are open, and he’s talking, but I can’t make out what he’s saying.

Arms wrap around me, and I start to fight until I’m turned around and see it’s Julian. I almost drop right there with relief, but then I look over and see everyone working on Luke. Screams break free from my throat as Julian holds me back, and I watch in horror as they begin CPR.

“No. I love him. Don’t take him away from me again. Please,” I cry.

His body jerks when the AED shocks him. He starts flailing and suddenly sits up. Julian releases me, and I rush to Luke’s side, dropping to my knees beside him.

“I love you too, angel,” he yells, and I nod. I heard him.

Jude moves into our embrace, and we all hold on to each other for dear life. I can’t lose either of these men.

The guys help Luke back inside, and now we’re sitting in Ridley’s home gym. Her dog lies at her feet, comforting her after a mild panic attack from the car explosion. I learn that earlier this year, she, Leif, and Franci survived their car being firebombed.

“We have the perfect advantage right now,” Browser says.

“No one saw us revive Luke. We can say he died and we have his body. We don’t have to turn it over to the police.

” He showed up right after the explosion, having been in his office next door when it happened.

“I can pull the surveillance footage. I bet it was one of the jerks Pierceson hired.”

“I don’t like it,” Julian and Ridley say at the same time.

“That leaves Amelia unprotected. She’ll become an even bigger target.”

“I don’t think this is just about getting rid of her. I think Pierceson would be okay with it, but he’s more focused on making Striker go away,” Ridley says as Leif holds her.

“Let the police and EMTs in,” Luke says, and I hope they take him to the hospital for a full evaluation.

The paramedics insist on taking the three of us. Luke tries to get them to let us all ride in the same ambulance, but they separate us. Luke is in one and Jude and I in another.

When we arrive, they wheel me into a room. I’ve got a sizable goose egg on the back of my head, and I’m seeing double, which is starting to fade. Jude is sitting in a chair beside my bed after being examined. He has the least injuries, and I’m thankful for that.

“Is it true, Mom?” he asks once we’re alone.

“What, kiddo?” I try to soften my voice, but my head is killing me. The headache is so intense that I have to keep my eyes closed.

“That you could be pregnant?”

“What?” My eyes fly open, but the bright light burns, so I close them again.

A nurse walks in before I can answer him and turns down the lights.

“I think we should let your mother get some sleep. I can take you to another room,” she says to Jude.

“No. He stays with me or his father.”

“His father isn’t in any shape for visitors, and your son could use some rest too. Don’t you want what’s best for him?”

I open my eyes and take her in. She’s wearing a scrub top, jeans, and heels. Something doesn’t feel right. She’s older, with dark hair that’s clearly been overdyed. Her makeup is heavy, and her face barely moves from the Botox.

“No. He stays with me,” I repeat, my voice firm. “Jude, come here.”

He had started to move toward her.

She lunges for him, pulling a gun from her back.

“Please don’t hurt him,” I beg, panic rising when she aims it at him. I push myself up in the bed, the pain forgotten as my child is threatened.

“I have to take him with me. If I don’t, he will end everything. You don’t understand. He needs you both dead to get the money she left you.”

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. I won’t let her take my child.

I slowly shake my head. “How about you take me instead? I’ll sign everything over to him. I don’t want it.”

I have no idea what money she’s talking about. My mom committed suicide. The insurance wouldn’t pay out on that.

“I promise. Just leave my son here, and I’ll sign it all over. He wouldn’t be named in her will anyway because he wasn’t born yet.”

She nods frantically, then starts shaking her head. The woman is spiraling into mania right before my eyes.

“I can’t. I have to take him. You were supposed to die in the explosion. Then his grandfather would be named his guardian because he’d inherit what you left behind. Then Harold and I could finally get married.”

“Please, no.” I slide off the edge of the bed, praying my legs hold me up.

“No,” she screams, and the gun fires.

I drop to the floor, feeling something wet against my skin.

I turn toward where she was, and my heart sinks when I see her dragging Jude out of the room.

I won’t let her take my son. A rush of determination fills me, and I push myself up.

Blood trickles down my arm and drips to the floor.

Jude’s eyes bug out when he sees me walking toward them.

“Angel, no.”

I hear Luke’s voice, but I’m focused on my child. I can’t and won’t let anyone hurt him. I brought his precious life into this world, and I’ll protect him with my dying breath.

I continue toward her, tuning out the chaos around me. Harold’s mistress won’t take my son. I watch as Jude breaks her hold and knocks the gun away from her. He rushes to me, and I push him behind me. She advances.

“I wish he had let me go to Texas all those years ago to kill you then, but he wouldn’t. I’ve had to live without that money because he was waiting patiently. He said he knew you would come back. I’ll take care of you, just like I took care of your mother,” she sneers.

I freeze, trying to process what she’s implying.

“She didn’t commit suicide,” she says, her smile twisted. “She was so weak, it was almost too easy.”

A surge of anger like I’ve never felt before washes over me. I no longer feel the pain of the headache or the shot to my arm.

She moves in and swings at me. I step to the side and grab her arm.

With all the strength I can muster, I deliver a strike to her throat, nailing the soft part where her hyoid bone is.

Then I elbow the side of her head. She falls back, and the adrenaline drains from my body.

Arms catch me just before I collapse to the floor.

Doctors, nurses, and security rush toward us. I’m carried into a nearby room. The woman who attacked me is alive and being detained. My body goes lax, and then everything goes dark.