I furiously wiped away at the tears with the back of my hand and finally ripped off the pathetic black wig.
“We’re on our way, Rachel. Don’t move a muscle. We’re coming for you, sweetheart, we promise. Is Axel okay?”
“They took him,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion. “I need you to take me home, and then I’m going to Leeds. I’m getting my son back, and I’ll put a bullet in every single fucking one of them, if that’s what it takes.”
Chapter 8
Rachel
“Get out of the fucking way!” I screamed, pressing down on my horn as I flew past a car on the motorway. I flipped him the bird when he turned his head to look at me and angrily gestured to the road ahead before making the hand gesture to call him a wanker.
Don’t drive in the fucking fast lane and then go ten miles under the speed limit, you cunt!I mentally projected to him, and then pressed down on the accelerator, leaving him in the distance.
I was going to end up with a bunch of points on my licence at this rate, as well as thousands of pounds worth of speeding fines, but they were the least of my worries. No doubt my licence would be suspended, but it was a small price to pay.
Besides, those speeding fines would be traced to the car. The car was owned by Lisa, and she lived in Scotland. I wouldn’t ever be returning to that house again, so fines were the least of my concerns.
Frank had arrived in record time, and he and his wife, Pearl, had driven me home. I spent the entire time I was waiting,pacing the carpet of Hayley’s front room, forcing life and feeling back to my legs. I couldn’t take my eyes off the clock, and when the hand slipped to just past three, I heard the car pull up outside.
Before I had even registered moving, I was out of the house and in the back seat. Frank and Pearl had given me concerned looks, and had asked me a few times if I was okay, but I didn’t reply. All I could think about was my son. My jaw was gritted too tightly for me to answer any of their queries, and I didn’t trust myself not to take my mood out on them. I simply kept my eyes on the road, waiting for the turning to my old home.
There were only two things I wanted from my house. One of them was currently in the ignition, powering my car, and the other was sitting on the seat next to me, its metal barrel gleaming under the lights.
Oh, and I had grabbed my phone. Everything else could be tossed and replaced. It was just stuff. I had replaced everything more than once, and I could easily do it again.
The effects of the drug had more or less left my system by the time we arrived at my house, with a little help from the brisk night air. I tore through my house like a hurricane, grabbing what I needed, and then hauled my suitcase and backpack out of Frank’s car. After throwing them on my back seat, I climbed behind the wheel and slammed the door shut, my wheels skidding on the road, leaving tyre marks in their wake as I sped off without so much as a goodbye.
It was rude, and it was fucking inconsiderate since I had just dragged them out of bed, and they had spent the past year providing for me, but I was too angry to care about anyone else’s feelings.
The minor pity party had gone. The worry had gone. All that remained was the white-hot rage that clouded my judgement and possessed my body.
Dante would never hurt Axel. The man was a lot of things, but he would never, ever harm one of his own. Axel was no doubt being treated like the prince heir he was, and he’d be loving every minute of it. He was a social child and had no separation anxiety. He’d be in his element with all the attention that would be getting lavished on him.
So it wasn’t fearing his safety that had me tearing down the motorway like someone with a death wish.
No. It was anger that fuelled me. Vengeance that ignited me. Dante had no fucking right. None. And I’d be leaving that fucking clubhouse with my child.
Like it or not.
The sat nav showed a further two hours to go, the clock reading a little after six a.m. The club would already be awake. Axel would certainly be awake.
I had never missed a breakfast with him, and I certainly wasn’t about to start now.
I practically kicked the accelerator, ripping over the roads at well over a hundred miles per hour. I saw the flash of the speed camera and laughed out loud. That just meant I was doing this right, and I’d be back with my son in no time.
At just before seven, I pulled up outside the clubhouse, my tyres skidding once more, marking the gravel as I slammed the brakes on and grabbed the gun from the passenger seat.
I knew the club would hear the noise and would be preparing for me, but I didn’t give a fuck. I wasn’t here on a stealth mission. I was here with one goal in mind, and I didn’t care if I had to setthe entire place alight to get it. Noise was not my enemy. This fucking place was.
I was out of the car before the wheels had fully stopped turning. I vaguely registered the noise behind me as my car continued rolling and crashed into the fence, but it was the least of my concerns.
It’s not like I had any interest in driving it after this, anyway. Dante clearly had that car marked, and so it could stay here with him.
I stood staring at the newly rebuilt clubhouse—a carbon copy of the one that stood before it, save for some more room to the house at the back of it.
Even the impressive sight of the building wasn’t enough to have me stopping still for long. Nothing would ever be enough when my son was involved.
I raced down the familiar path towards the clubhouse I had once called home, if only for a brief moment.
