Page 48 of Rage's Solace
“Alright, then we head back to the clubhouse. At least we have a visual on the vehicle, we can see if Zen can get eyes on it approaching or leaving your property from the highway cameras. Siege was planning to pick Harold and Emily’s brains for information on where Ashton lives. Maybe we’ll kill two birds with one stone and find that’s where her parents are taking her.”
I hope to God they weren’t. I hope they’re taking her to a restaurant for a family catchup, but with what I knew of them already, I didn’t think that was likely. With more optimism than I felt, I say, “Hell yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.”
Chapter 18
Priscilla
Ihonestly thought my parents were taking us to a fancy restaurant when they came to pick us up, but we end up in the biggest and most sparsely furnished house I’ve ever seen. This place is cold and soulless and yet somehow like a museum. I try to figure out which friend of theirs this house might belong to but keep coming up empty handed. I’m not sure what’s happening, I want to call Rage to tell him I’m worried, but my father took my phone. I hope he sees the note I left him explaining things. It’s the best I could do at damage limitation. This morning that was my biggest worry, but now I’m afraid of something worse.
“These are your rooms,” my mother says as she shows us upstairs.
“Our rooms?”
“You didn’t think your father and I were going to let you stay with that dirty biker. You’re back home with us now, though we’ll make sure you’re well taken care of.”
Something about this house freaks me out, so I insist upon Mia sharing a room with me. I think she’s picking up on the strange vibe because she comes willingly and without a fuss. It’s hard to see my outgoing daughter cowed by her surroundings. My mother shuts the door and leaves us alone. On the journey here I’d repeatedly asked her and my father why they’d told me Rage was dead, but all they would say was that they were protecting me.
I put my arm around my daughter, and we sit in silence.
Finally, she glances over her shoulder at me, “Do you think Rage will forget us?”
I pull her closer, “Rage is never going to forget us. He remembered me after eleven years and God knows he’d never forget his own daughter.”
She glances away, mumbling, “I was just checking, if he’s not my real daddy then he might not care.”
“He’d care, that’s the type of man he is,” I say.
She just hugs her toy cat tighter.
“You miss him already, don’t you? I know I do.”
She nods. “Grandma called him a dirtbag during the car ride here.” Gesturing with one hand she adds, “Wherever here is. Where are we? Is this their house?”
I reach out and draw her into my arms. “I don’t know sweetheart. I thought they lived on the other side of the country. I’m going to keep you safe whatever happens.”
The next thing I know, she’s crying softly on my chest. There is nothing in the world I hate more than my daughter suffering. I’d walk over hot coals to keep her from hurting. Unfortunately, there is very little I can do under the circumstances.
***
I don’t know how long we both lay on the bed before we heard a knock on the door. My mother opens the door and sticks her head into our room. I can tell she’s dressed up like she’s going to an elegant party. “Time to get ready for dinner. Wedress for dinner here. You’ve got an hour, so let’s get to it, shall we?” Her singsong voice is a little grating, and I want to shout and scream at her to let me leave.
I just want to go home. Home… yes that’s what Rage’s house has become. I want to have that talk with him and hope that we can move forward. I want that more than anything, I wish I knew what my parents were up to, in the past I’d done everything they asked without question. But no longer. I wasn’t their plaything, and I was going to demand that my father gives me back my cellphone. I’d call Rage and get him to pick us up. He was a good man, even if he couldn’t forgive me, I knew him and his club brothers would help.
My mother is not to be trifled with, especially if we’re staying with one of her friends so I suppose that means we have to sit at the table and play nicely.
I get off the bed and take a look in the closet, there’s a sense of foreboding when I see the clothes there. There are a number of smart dresses, the kind of work dress women used to wear in the eighties. Beside are a few smaller dresses with puff sleeves clearly meant for Mia and absolutely not what she would choose to wear. The clothes are in our sizes and at this moment I realize that whoever wants us here planned it all along.
I fuss around with our hair and clothing and head downstairs with Mia in tow looking like a damn Stepford wife and her child. I come to a staggering stop in the doorway because sat at the dining room table with my parents are the Whitmores, Malcolm and his son, Ashton, who is looking all kinds of pleased with himself.
My heart is racing, coming face-to-face with my attacker. Conrad wouldn’t allow him in the house, so I’d not seen him in over ten years. But instantly I was back in that alleyway.
“What’s he doing here?” I demand. My voice worlds more confident than I feel.
My mother clears her throat, and I realize she thinks I’m being rude. I take Mia’s hand and lead her to the table, murmuring, “Mr. Whitmore, it’s nice to see you again.”
“I truly wish I could say the same, Priscilla. Unfortunately, you are forever a pain in my side.”
“Father, you promised,” Ashton says with a note of warning in his voice.