Chapter 6: Hidden Heir: Chapter 6

I run.

And I don’t stop running.

Barefoot through the streets, I leave that place of horror behind and run until my heart feels like it’s going to explode out of my chest. I didn’t recognize where I was when I charged out of that warehouse; all I focused on was running away from it like my life depended on it.

Because it probably does.

I attacked that man. I don’t know what came over me other than a survival instinct that surged up like the roar of a tiger. The Irish won’t be happy and will probably kill us, I’m sure of it.

I run until my feet are frozen from slapping against the cold ground. The dress has ridden up so far that anyone I sprint past in the night will get an eyeful but I don’t care.

I need to get home.

I run until the streets grow familiar and once I recognize where I am, I hail a cab. Thankfully the cab driver doesn’t care that I’m covered in sweat and dots of blood, and that my dress is a mess. He picks me up and greets me with a nod, staying focused on his music after accepting my address with barely a glance.

Time in the taxi gives me a moment to think and catch my breath. I don’t feel the pain anymore from the wounds on the soles of my feet from the stones I ran over. I don’t feel the ache in my legs or the pain in my chest. All I can think about is getting home. Each time the taxi stops at a red light, I feel like my skeleton is about to rip out of my skin because I’m so desperate to get to my place. If the Irish figured out where I live and get there first, I’m screwed.

My only hope is that Ant has enough sense to grab Tiff and run if someone turns up at the door. I chew on my lower lip and pinch my thigh as the taxi weaves through the city. By the time he pulls up at my apartment, I’m ready to puke from fear.

I thank the driver, ask him to wait for me while I get money from inside and then sprint into my apartment trying to brace myself for carnage or worse, the absence of my daughter.

“Tiff?” I yell. “Ant?” I run down the hall and crash into my bedroom, nearly breaking down in tears of relief when I see Tiff in her bed staring at me with wide, shocked eyes.

“Mommy?”

The sound of her voice brings me to my knees and I sob for a few seconds, utterly relieved yet still scared. She’s fine but I can’t waste any time. There’s no way the Irish aren’t scrambling to find me right now.

“Ant!” I yell as I climb to my feet. “Can you pay for the taxi? And then we need to get out of here!”

I gather Tiff into my arms and she immediately starts crying, clearly confused by my tears and fear. I cuddle her tightly, burying my face in her curls, breathing her in and struggling to gain control over my tears. After kissing her, I set her back down and then start dragging everything I can think of from her drawers into a bag. Clothes, medicine, soap, lotion, pull ups, toys. I cram it all in then zip up the bag.

Suddenly, a pounding on the front door makes me freeze and my heart nearly claws right out of my throat.

“Ma’am?” calls a voice.

I breathe a sigh of relief. Not the Irish. The taxi driver.

“What the fuck, Ant,” I mutter, slipping back into the hallway. The driver stands at the door and shoots me a bored look that melts into concern.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

I nod quickly. “Sorry, yes. Sorry. Let me get your money.”

“You know what, don’t worry about it.” The man waves one hand in the air. “You look like you’re having a night from hell.”

“I got it!”

“Forget about it.” With that, he turns and heads back down the steps toward his taxi. I watch him go, then shut the front door and lock it.

“What the fuck Ant?” I yell, barreling into the living room. “We have to get the fuck out of here now and you couldn’t even…”

Words fail me as I spot Ant on the couch. His eyes are hooded and a needle dangles from one limp hand.

No.

There’s no way he was shooting up while in charge of my daughter. No way he chose drugs while I was facing torture and assault to pay off his debt.

“You bastard!” I scream, launching myself at him. As soon as I make contact, I pound my fists against his chest. “You bastard! What the fuck are you doing?”

Ant looks at me without interest then smiles slowly. “Brooke! You’re back already?”

“You were supposed to be watching her! Caring for her! Protecting her, you selfish dick!” I scream, hitting him again and again. Ant barely registers it, and a suffocating wave of hopelessness washes over me.

Ant is no help. If anything, he’s a danger. I know I should kick him out but what the fuck am I supposed to do? He’s my brother. If I kick him out he’s as good as dead.

Sobbing, I climb off of him, wincing as Tiff’s tears reach a loud crescendo.

“You fucker,” I weep, kicking Ant’s leg.

“Sorry,” he slurs. “You don’t understand. I was scared and you were gone⁠—”

“I was gone because I was trying to save your pathetic ass!” I sob. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Ant? What the fuck! I can’t believe you even let me go!”

I have to get out of here somehow.

I claw at the dress, removing it from my body as quickly as I can then throw on a pair of joggers and sneakers along with a sweatshirt. I pull Ant’s pathetic ass up from the couch. I know I only have a small window of time where he’ll stay awake so I use that to drag him through the apartment and out to my car. It takes strength I didn’t know I had to get him against the car, open the door, and shove him into the passenger seat. By the time he’s buckled in, he’s out for the count but still breathing and still with a pulse.

A part of me is almost disappointed, sadly.

Panting, I head back inside and gather my screaming daughter. I grab my phone, purse, and her bag, then sprint back to the car. Nothing I can say or do will calm her down right now. I have to swallow my fears and be strong for her.

“I’m sorry baby.” I weep as I wrestle her into her car seat. Mommy loves you and she’s so sorry about all of this. I know it’s scary. Please know that Mommy loves you so much.”

She fights me as I wipe her face and kiss her forehead, and despite the instinct to do more to comfort her, I know I don’t have time. Once Tiff is secured, I climb into the car and start driving.

I have no destination in mind, and the rules of the road are an afterthought as I drive as far away from my apartment as I can.

Get away. Just get away.

It doesn’t matter where as long as it’s far away from my apartment.

Adrenaline keeps me on high alert, every nerve ending in my body firing. I keep an eye on Tiff with glances in the rearview mirror. Ant is still passed out beside me. I’m constantly checking all mirrors making sure we’re not being followed. As I’m driving, thunder explodes overhead and the skies open up.

Within minutes the windshield wipers are flying full power across the glass, but I can still barely see the road. It adds yet another layer of stress, the only upside being that I’ve become so focused on the road that my tears dry up.

I drive too fast over a pothole, causing the car to dip suddenly before bouncing and jolting violently. My heart breaks when Tiff yells for me out of fear. I wrench the steering wheel to try and realign the tires but I overcompensate and the car skids. I have no control as the wheels lose their grip on the slick roads. In half a second we go from driving normal to spinning across the road. I slam on the brakes and the car screeches to a halt as we crash hard into a telephone pole.

Tiff is terrified and screaming at the top of her lungs while Ant is still dead to the world.

“Fuck!” I yell, slamming my hands on the wheel.

Tears flood my eyes and I sag forward, allowing myself a second to sob before reaching back and tenderly rubbing Tiff’s leg.

“It’s okay, baby. We’re going to be okay.”

What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

Inside of my crashed car, with only the squeak of the windshield wipers breaking through Tiff’s sobs, another sound catches my ears.

Buzzing.

My phone is going crazy. I fish it out of my purse to see several messages, all of them furious threats against my life as well as my daughters, telling me that I fucked up and that I should have just taken the cock because what’s coming will be a thousand times worse. Unspeakable threats and promises of rape, slavery, and torture.

The edges of my vision darken.

I don’t know what I should do other than go to the police. No. They would just hand me over. I don’t know a lot about the corruption going on but I do know that the dangerous people in this city don’t fear the police.

They own them.

Wait. Dangerous people.

I turn my phone off and toss it into the backseat.

There is one place I can go. The only place where there’s someone that scares me more than the Irish mafia does. The only place with someone more dangerous.

It’s been four years and he might not even remember me but I have no other choice. It’s a desperate grasp at survival and the only option I have.

Taking a deep breath, I put the car into gear and slowly back it away from the pole. Thankfully, the damage isn’t terrible and I’m able to get back on the road. The outskirts of the city are my new destination and after getting lost three times, I finally approach tall metal gates illuminated with flood lights on either side. These gates are the only entrance and exit to an estate surrounded by a ten foot stone wall. As I drive up to the gates, two men dressed in dark suits step out of the security booth and approach my car.

If I weren’t already at my wit’s end they would scare me. One man holds up his hand and I slowly pull the car to a stop. I lower the window as he leans toward me.

“You’ve taken a wrong turn, ma’am,” he says. “Go back the way you came.”

“No. Please, this is where I need to be,” I plead.

“No, it’s not,” he replies sharply, a tinge of a Russian accent in his voice. “Turn around.”

“Please,” I beg. “I’m here to see Leon.”

At the mention of Leon, the man’s hand drops to his holster. “Leave,” he says, his gaze moving behind me to Tiffany. “I’ll give you and your kid one chance to turn around. There’s no one here by that name, now fuck off.”

Suddenly, a sharp buzzer rings and the heavy metal gates begin to open.