SURVIVING SAVANNAH: GODS OF CHAOS MC (BOOK 16) Page 2

  On the outside, Savannah is all proper Southern politeness, but once the sun sets over those tall live oaks, the darkness descends, bringing out an entirely different culture. Those that ran the town could pretend to be all prim and proper in the light of day, but once you lived there long enough, you learned to see right through that act.

  I didn’t have to wonder if Rose was still there. Girls like that, members of the kind of family she belonged to — they didn’t leave.

  No, it was men like me who were told to leave, if they knew what was best for them. I may not have known it at the time, but packing my shit and heading out in a rage of fury was the best thing I’d ever done, even if I thought it would be the end of me back then.

  I let Rose’s eyes haunt me the rest of the flight, and when the wheels of the plane screeched and bounced against the hot asphalt of the runway, I said a prayer to a God I’ve never really believed in that I made it out of Savannah alive.

  Chapter 3

  CHERRY

  The darkness was thick, like walking through dense mud, pulling my feet down, sucking the life out of every step. I scanned the shadows, searching for a spark of light, a breath of life, the will to keep going.

  No destination, no plan, I was simply existing in nothingness, seeking something I couldn’t name — a way out, a prayer, a spell that would magically lift me up and away into a different time, a different day, a different world.

  Anywhere else but the incessant darkness that engulfed my every thought.

  In the distance, the air swirled, disturbed by another presence, something that wasn’t me, alone in nothing with me.

  I tried to reach out, gasping as a slight warmth washed over my spirit.

  My eyes fluttered open, the light crashing in violently for a split second, before the darkness washed over me again, leaving me alone again, scared, lost.

  Fingers wrapped around mine, warm and solid, but a warmth I couldn’t quite touch back.

  Take me! I wanted to cry out. I need help. A way out.

  Words failed, only breath escaping, only pain surfacing.

  The flash of light, extinguished.

  The darkness, darker.

  The will to keep going, gone.

  Chapter 4

  RYDER

  Staring down at Cherry brought a flood of memories that I tried like hell to push away. I’d seen too many people lying in hospital beds, looking like death was just a breath away. Seeing my old friend in such rough shape left me reeling.

  I grabbed her hand, squeezing hard, wishing like hell I could transfer some of my own life into her. The constant beep of the machines surrounding her was enough to make a man go mad, and all I could think about was unhooking her and taking her home to Doc.

  But Doc wasn’t there anymore.

  And home wasn’t ‘home’ anymore — at least not for Cherry. She’d been gone a good long while now and I’d not seen her in years, but we’d stayed in touch after she left. I’d missed her, but life had gone on. I never in a million years expected she’d be lying in a hospital bed when I saw her again.

  She was busted up pretty badly. Bruises covered her face and arms, and just about every inch of exposed skin. Tubes protruded from her nose and an IV was dripping fluids into the back of her hand. Her skin, normally rosy and vibrant, was grey and sallow. The only color was provided by her signature copper curls that I’d grown to love so much over the years.

  Cherry was a firecracker, on the inside and outside. She knew it, I knew it, and all the Gods knew it. She never apologized for her sassy attitude, and we never asked her to. She was tough, but matronly. She was nurturing, but her sharp tongue could cut you like a knife.

  And she was the best damn friend you could ever ask for.

  Rage, mixed with worry, filled my veins like a white-hot cocktail that was increasingly difficult for me to tamp down with each passing moment.

  If only she’d wake up…

  “She’s been asleep for two whole days now,” Hannah, Cherry’s sister said from the chair next to her bed. She chewed on a thumbnail, her face looking as worried as I felt.

  “Has her doctor given you any indication of when she might wake up?” Grace asked.

  She shrugged. “He said it was up to her.”

  I sighed and looked around the room impatiently. We’d come straight to the hospital after landing and Lacey had taken Sadie to the cafeteria, while the rest of the Gods waited outside. Slade and Riot were itching to get into see her, but the hospital limited the number of visitors in the ICU.

  “When was the last time you talked to the doctor?” I asked.

  “Yesterday,” she replied. “He doesn’t come by too often. Most of the updates I get are from the nurses, who don’t seem to know much themselves.”

  I nodded, frustration building up inside of me. I needed answers. I needed to know how this happened. Cherry was an excellent driver and always had been. It wasn’t like her to just run off the road and flip her vehicle. I’d never even known her to have a minor fender-bender.

  “You said you suspected someone had caused this accident,” I said to Hannah. “Can you tell me more about that?”

  Her eyes darted past me out into the hallway and then she lowered her voice, shaking her head. “Not here.”

  I raised a brow, but nodded curtly. I knew that the walls had ears in small towns like this, and I respected Hannah’s caution, but the look of fear in her eyes worried me. If she wasn’t safe to talk in Cherry’s private ICU room, then just how safe was Cherry?

  “Hannah, have you been here the entire time?” Grace asked.

  “Yes,” she nodded. “I hopped the first flight out of New Orleans when I got the call.”

  “You must be exhausted,” Grace said. “Why don’t you take a break? I can stay by her side for a while. Go get some rest and something to eat.”

  “The nurses have been taking care of me,” she said. “But a break would be nice. I haven’t spent much time in my hotel room. Thank you.”

  “Of course.”

  “You’ll call me if there’s any change?”

  “Immediately,” Grace said, as Hannah stood up. Grace hugged her and then she turned to me.

  “You know, Cherry never talked about many people from her past. But she talked about you. And Doc. She loves you both so much,” she said, smiling at Grace, and then me.

  “We love her, too,” I said. “I’d like to walk you to your car. Grace, I’ll be right back.”

  “Of course,” she said, sinking into the chair next to Cherry’s bed. “I’ll be right here.”

  After she kissed Cherry’s forehead, Hannah and I walked out of her room and headed down a long, bright hallway.

  “Thank you for coming,” she said.

  “Of course, thank you for calling,” I said.

  “I wasn’t sure what to do,” she said. “Everything is so weird, and to be honest, I’m a bit frightened.” The worry lines on her face deepened and I wanted to erase every single one. Quiet and petite, the only indication Hannah and Cherry were sisters was the shock of red hair they both possessed.

  A couple of nurses passed us in the hallway, nodding politely. I noticed Hannah stopped talking immediately and I couldn’t help but wonder if Cherry was safe here again.

  Once we exited, the rising heat of a Savannah afternoon washed over us. We reached her car, and after looking around to make sure we were alone, I began to quiz her.

  “Hannah, do you think Cherry is safe in this hospital?”

  “I hope so,” she answered, more tentatively than I would have liked to hear. “It’s a small town, right? I mean not too small, but small enough. I don’t know what happened, but I do know the case Cherry was working on had her spooked.”

  “What was the case?”

  She shook her head, almost shivering, despite the heat.

  “A series of murders. The whole town's talking about it.”

  “Why was Cherry working on it?”

  “It wasn�
��t in any official capacity,” she said. “I told her to stay out of it, in fact. But she’d met a young woman in New Orleans a few months ago at Cherry’s favorite hair salon, and they hit it off. Cherry was always befriending people younger than her — she says it keeps her young herself.”

  I laughed, remembering Cherry’s fondness for all the younger Gods.

  “So, this woman told her about her friend that had been murdered last year. She had her own suspicions about what was going on, and who might be involved. Cherry tried to pass the information along to the local police, but like I said — nobody seemed to want to talk about it. They wouldn’t even record the tip Cherry had. And well, you know how stubborn she is.”

  “As a mule,” I nodded, with a half-smile.

  “Exactly. She wouldn’t let it go. So, she hopped on a plane and booked a hotel for a few weeks, and started digging. My guess is she found out something that someone didn’t want found out.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Cherry’s never had a car accident in her life. I drove by the spot where she wrecked and none of it makes sense. It wasn’t raining. It was dark, but there weren’t any curves in the road. And, even though the police report said no other cars were involved, I saw photos of her car and it sure looks like she was smashed into. There’s even a bunch of red paint from another car that transferred onto her black paint job, but no mention of that in the police report, either. And they won’t let me near the car, either.”

  “You have a copy of that photo you can send me?”

  “I’ll do it as soon as I get to the hotel room.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “And thanks again for calling me. I’m here as long as necessary, until we get to the bottom of this. If you need anything at all, you call me, okay?”

  “Thanks, Ryder. Cherry said you were a gem and now I know why.”

  “I owe a big part of who I am to Cherry,” I said. “I’ve known her for more than half my life, and if someone did something to cause this, you can bet your ass I’m making them pay.”

  I pulled her into my arms and held her close for a minute.

  “You sure you’re okay being alone right now?”

  “I’m just going to crash for a few hours and I’ll be back.”

  “Okay,” I said, letting her go.

  She drove away with a wave and as I turned to go back to Grace and Cherry, my head was spinning with a hell of a lot of unanswered questions.

  This town may be small. They may not like a bunch of us wandering around and kicking over rocks, but I wasn’t about to leave until I got the answers I was looking for.

  And if someone purposefully hurt my dear friend, there would be no stopping the pain I was going to unleash on them.

  Chapter 5

  SLADE

  I fucking love to travel. It’s one of my favorite parts of my job, and since I have an allergy to staying in one place for too long, it suits me well.

  I gotta admit, though, that no matter where I manage to travel to, it never fails that I get stared at. It’s like folks have never seen a handsome, tattooed, bald guy before or something.

  When I’m wearing my cut, it makes sense. Nothing draws the eyes more than a bunch of burly dudes all wearing matching leathers. I get that.

  But it happens even when I’m not wearing it, or when I’m alone, just walking down the street in a fucking t-shirt and Levi’s. Of course, the women stare — but can you fucking blame them? Look at me.

  But the dudes, the older people, you’d think they wouldn’t be so enamored, but maybe my charm is just that magnetic, who knows?

  So, yeah, as soon as I stepped off the plane in Savannah, it’s been a constant stream of double-takes and wide-eyes.

  Fine, whatever. To say I’m used to it would be an understatement. I suppose I’ve come to expect it now.

  I’ve learned to use it to my advantage because it doesn’t make my job any easier. Sometimes, it would be beneficial to be a little more incognito. I’ve yet to figure out how to make that happen, so I work with what I have.

  Walking into the Kehoe House, the hotel Riot booked for me to stay in, is no different. Of course, as soon as I saw how nice the place was, I knew I’d have to really lay it on thick.

  Riot gets off on trying to put me in uncomfortable situations. I get off on punching that face of his, so it's a fair trade.

  One of his favorite things to do is book me in hotels he thinks I’d never book for myself. I let him think it freaks me out, but to be honest, I fucking love them.

  I might be a brawler, a bit crass, and love my bike as much as I love my lady, but the truth of the matter is that I’ve learned to love all this fancy shit. Sure, it was a little uncomfortable at first, but once I had my first bite of a fucking quiche, or a poached egg with Bernaise sauce, I was so into it. The soft-as-fuck sheets and turn down service with a goddamned chocolate on my pillow wasn’t anything to complain about either.

  I’m one hard motherfucker, I get that. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy nice things. So, I complain to Riot so that he pushes the envelope a little more each time, and I get the nicest places of everyone to stay in. He thinks he’s torturing me, but I’m winning.

  So, while I was being stared at, I was also determined to out-polite these fuckers and charm the socks right off of anyone that needed to be charmed, so I strutted in with my usual confident smile and began to work my magic on the stuffy old coot behind the counter.

  She took one look at me and froze. Then, slowly, she pulled her eyeglasses down her nose, her gaze trailing up and down my frame before finally meeting my eyes.

  “Hello, ma’am,” I drawled, conjuring up a thick Southern accent that I knew would disarm her. “What a lovely day we’re having today!”

  She blinked, twice, and I smiled wider. I knew I had her. She smiled, and politely nodded.

  “Indeed, young man,” she agreed. “Welcome to Kehoe House. How can I help you?”

  “I’m in town visiting my darling grandmother,” I lied. “The internet told me this was the best bed and breakfast in all of Savannah.” I spoke slowly, drawing out my vowels and staring deep in her milky eyes.

  “Oh,” she said, placing a hand over heart. “I suppose you’re right, it is. It’s a very historic and beautiful property.”

  “Well, I can’t wait to explore. I have a reservation,” I said, sliding a Visa platinum card across the counter. She looked at it and raised a brow, before nodding and pulling up my reservation.

  With that card and this skinny-ass Armani suit I was wearing, even with all of my tattoos, I could easily pass for a hip executive as some tech start up these days.

  “Oh, yes, Mr. Featherstone, I see it right here.”

  “Jeremiah, ma’am,” I replied. “Please call me Jeremiah. And you are?”

  “Me? Oh, I’m Pearl,” she said, she blushed slightly. She slid a room key my way and I pocketed it.

  “Pearl?” I exclaimed. “Well, Pearl is my mother’s name, and I must say, Pearl, you are just as beautiful as she is.”

  “Oh, my!” She flustered, her cheeks reddening more. “Why, thank you, Jeremiah. I hope you find your room to your satisfaction, and if you need anything at all, you let me know. Your room is just to the top of the stairs. Breakfast will be brought to your room and most people prefer to have it on their private balcony.”

  “Thank you, Pearl, that sounds delightful,” I said, grabbing my suitcase and heading for a nearby staircase that was polished so well I could see my reflection in the wood.

  “Oh, and Jeremiah?”

  “Yes, Pearl?” I turned back.

  “Don’t let the children’s voices get to you. They’re harmless, despite what you may have read on the internet.” Pearl smiled a nervous little smile.

  I’d lied about that reading about this place on the web, of course. I knew nothing, because Riot had taken care of our accommodations, just as he always did. I was hoping to have a little peaceful down time in fancy town and now
she’s telling me there’s a bunch of kids causing a ruckus?

  “Children?” I parroted.

  “Well, not children, really, just their voices. We haven’t actually seen the children in many years now.”

  “Excuse me, Pearl, what are you talking about?” My head spun. Where the fuck are these loud kids hanging out that you couldn’t see them?

  “Oh, I hope I haven’t frightened you, Jeremiah,” she said, shaking her head. “Really, they’re just ghosts. In the attic. They’re completely harmless.”

  My heart skipped a beat and I could see Riot laughing in my head. The motherfucker booked me at a goddamned haunted hotel! Punching his stupid face was going to be such a pleasure later.

  “Ghosts?” I asked, swallowing hard, hoping I’d misheard her.

  “Yes, but harmless ones, truly,” she said. “Not like at the other hotels.”

  “Y’all got more than one haunted hotel?”

  “Well, many, yes. I would say most of them, actually. Savannah is kind of known for that, did you not know?”

  “I did not,” I replied. I was torn between high-tailing it out of there or riding it out but it sounds like I may experience this anywhere I go, according to nervous Pearl there.

  I’m not a fearful man. I’d go up against almost any opponent that was placed in front of me. Tougher than me, bigger than me, smarter than me — didn’t fucking matter. I’d give ‘em a go.

  But you can’t punch a fucking ghost.

  And the idea of sleeping while some fucking ghostly kids had their way with me, doing who the hell knows what, did not appeal to me in the slightest. Maybe my imagination was just running wild. It was probably just a publicity schtick, after all.

  “Harmless, huh?” I asked Pearl.

  “Oh, yes, absolutely,” she said. “You might not even hear them at all.”

  “Right,” I nodded. Hoping for the best, I reminded myself who I was and turned back to the stairs, deciding to ride it out.