by Wendy Cole
He gripped my hand and held me in place. “Scarlet, drive Jessie to find the old man. We’ll hold it down here.”
I couldn’t argue. Finding him would be much easier with a car than on foot.
Scarlet seemed just as eager to leave as I was. “Thank god! I thought I’d die of boredom in this place.” She grabbed her bag then my arm as she passed and pulled me out the door. “Mine’s the Honda out front. Any idea where he might go?”
“The bridge by Main. If not there, I don’t know. I’ve never asked. I always assumed he just wanders.”
Scarlet broke away to move to the driver’s side, and I followed her lead and climbed into the passenger’s seat.
The second she revved the engine, tires squealed, and gravel flew. I clutched the door handle as she backed out of the driveway. Perhaps if they ever flipped a van multiple times like me, everyone around this place would slow the fuck down.
The car was a stick, but from what I could tell, Scarlet wasn’t very good with it. Each time she switched gears, the vehicle jerked violently and it sent my seat back a little further. By the time we reached the bridge, the back was useless, and I was forced to grip the dash to stay upright.
“Sorry about that,” she said as she pulled up along the curve. “I keep asking one of the boys to fix it, but they’re assholes.”
I nodded in response, already climbing out. If the old man was here, he’d be hidden amongst the masses. Scarlet followed me, and when we made it down the hill and to the underpass, we each took a different direction. He wasn’t in his spot, and I fought not to disturb anyone as I searched the many other faces. None of them even remotely resembled the old man, and my hope was dwindling fast.
I heaved a sigh. “Can we just drive around a bit and see if we spot him?”
“Sure thing.” Scarlet turned back in the direction we’d come from.
We travelled the city for an hour―side streets, main streets, any and every fucking street―but still found no sign of him. We tried another bridge. There were more people with similar faces but none were his. I tiptoed over and around them and knew why the old man didn’t suggest this bridge when I’d wanted to leave. They looked like sardines packed into a concrete can with barely a few inches between them.
My will deflated. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t at the other bridge. “Let’s just go.”
Scarlett ran towards me. “We have to go!”
My heart jolted. “What happened? Is it the old man?”
I ran and almost tripped over a woman in my hurry.
“Zeke said he’s back…came walking in a bit ago. He’s fine, but there’s an emergency. He said to get you back ASAP.” She continued to run as she relayed the info for me.
Her words were like ice, freezing me in place as a new fear rose to the surface. The news of the old man’s safe return meant nothing compared to what else could have Zeke so eager for me to come back.
Because if it wasn’t about the old man, it could only really be about one thing.
The club found me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
In her panic, Scarlet lost what little skill she had when it came to working a stick shift. The ride back to the shop was a series of squealing tires, bone jarring jerks, and near-death experiences.
Inside my head, a new mantra played. Stay calm, stay focused, stay alive. Different scenarios for where to go, what to do, and how to escape ran through my thoughts.
How to protect the others…
I held my breath as a sharp bend in the road loomed ahead and Scarlet showed no signs of slowing. Her phone rang, and without turning, she said, “Answer it for me.”
I dug through her purse and grabbed it with shaking hands. “Hello.”
“Jessie?” It was Zeke, and he sounded more like a General than his usual playful tone.
“What happened?” I couldn’t keep the panic out of my voice. Don’t let it be them. Don’t let it be them.
“How far away are you?”
“We’re nearing the shop now. I can see it.” I eyed the yard then heaved a sigh.
No bikes. Nobody was there. It wasn’t them.
“Park out back.” The line went dead.
“Zeke says to park out back.”
Scarlet pulled along the side of the shop and into the backyard. Bard and Zeke stood together waiting. The old man, gratefully, was seated beside the back door. I made a mental note to have a talk with him about taking off after I figured out what was going on.
Bard started towards the car and pulled me out before Scarlet could even get it into park.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as he all but dragged me towards the motorhome.
“We need to get you inside. I’ll explain then.”
I looked over my shoulder at Zeke, and he waved me off, too urgent for my liking.
Bard’s tone, combined with Zeke’s grave expression, quickened my pace. Then my panic increased when Bard rushed us inside and shut and locked the door.
“What the fuck is going on?” I asked for what felt like the hundredth time.
“Don’t freak out,” Bard said. He held his hands out, an action meant to calm.
It didn’t work.
“Don’t freak out? Don’t freak out! I thought the fucking club found me! What the fuck would possess you all to…” His grim expression made me pause. “What happened?”
“Two guys came in not long after you girls left. They had the ink,” Bard stayed positioned between me and the door in a way that seemed an awful lot like guarding it, and not from someone getting in. He thought I’d run.
An internal war began the minute he spoke those words. A million thoughts went off inside my head like dropping bombs. “Are you sure?” I asked, but I already knew the answer.
“Yes.” He reached for me, and I took a step back.
“I have to go.” I wanted to scream. Karma was such a bitch. Karma fucking hated me. Why today? I finally accomplished something, and I hadn’t even started my first shift.
“They weren’t looking for you. They wanted tattoos. They’re gone, Tequila.” Bard took a step towards me.
“This was too close,” I said. “What if I’d been here? Someone could have gotten hurt. This was stupid!” I clenched my teeth and balled my fists. “I have to go, Bard.”
“We knew this could happen. They’re gone. You don’t have to leave. We’ll just lay low for a while. Zeke said you can work in one of the back rooms. That way you’re less in the open.” He kept his distance now, but his eyes locked me in place.
He looked so desperate, and I couldn’t understand why. He barely knew me. Did it have to do with his parents? Did Bard feel responsible for me because of what he’d been through? Because I was some poor, lost soul he’d found under a bridge?
“You don’t have to protect me, Bard. I’m not your responsibility.”
His jaw clenched, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Is that what you think?” His voice rumbled as he spoke. “That I feel obligated!” He pointed a finger at me, his once dark eyes now set ablaze with accusation. “I want to, Tequila. I have to, not because of some fucked up sense of duty.” His tone lifted. It was so loud I clenched my teeth together. “Because it’s you, dammit!”
I recoiled. His eyes weren’t studying or searching. The heat in that glare scorched me. But it was what he’d said that struck the hardest. It was too intimate. Too possessive. He was a man who’d set his sights, and I was a bone being pursued by yet another dog. Only, Drake wasn’t a dog. He was a wolf. An alpha, and the pack that followed him would rip Bard and every other person here apart. I’d had enough. Without a word, I stepped over to the bunk and grabbed my pack. Bard didn’t move, but his eyes followed my every step.
I spared him one last look. “I’m sorry. This is better for everybody.”
He let out a harsh laugh. “You actually think I’m going to let you walk out of here.”
“Yes.” I started for the back door, knowing he’d never move
away from the one in front. He didn’t know it, but I was ready for him. When his arm reached out for me, I spun around and landed a punch to his chest the way Uncle Fred had taught me to.
Air rushed from his lungs in an audible whoosh as he doubled over.
I shot outside and ran for the road.
In my rush to escape, I didn’t notice the roaring engines until it was too late. Two bikes pulled into the yard just as I ran into it. I froze, stumbled, then quickly tried to retrace my steps.
One of the men noticed me. “Hey, girl! You seen the guy that owns this place?”
I didn’t turn. I couldn’t because that voice was a voice I knew. If he got a good look, if he came closer, he’d recognize me.
I shook my head from side to side and kept moving.
“Hey! Wait up! Where you goin’?” Two sets of heavy boots crunched the gravel in pursuit.
I did the only thing I could.
I ran.
“Hey! Why you runnin’?” He was closer now, gaining ground faster than I could create it.
I panicked, scrambled forward, then ran face first into an angry Bard.
“Run!” I demanded, pushing his chest, urging him to turn around.
“Go inside.”
“Run, you big fucking shithead!”
Zeke stepped into view behind him. “Do what he says, girl.”
“No! Go.” But it was too late.
“What’s the problem?” The familiar voice asked. He was right behind me. So close. Too close. I felt the line that held my entire life begin to unravel.
I sucked in a harsh breath and turned. Seb. He was never a friend of mine, even when I wasn’t on the run. He was almost as bad as Drake. He’d burn this place to the ground and not leave one single witness to the crime.
Seb squinted his eyes at me, and I saw the moment recognition filled his gaze.
“Well, holy shit!” He turned to the man with him. I’d seen him numerous times. Carl. I’d never spoken to him, probably because he couldn’t speak. Not since a disgruntled cell mate confiscated his tongue.
“I know somebody that is going to be happy to see you!” Seb’s eyes danced.
My lungs collapsed, and my legs almost gave out from beneath me.
Seb wouldn’t kill me.
He’d take me to him.
Time sped up. Events fired off like TNT, too rapid and startling for my brain to keep track of. Bard grabbed my shoulders and shoved me behind him. Zeke ran forward and punched Carl. Bard did the same, but Seb was a fighter. I’d seen him fight. He was good, too good, and he easily dodged Bard’s advance and landed a fist to his gut.
I stood there, helpless, my feet frozen in place, unable to do anything but stare. Seb pulled his gun, and Bard grabbed his wrist, twisting it until the loud crack of breaking bones rang out through the empty night air. The gun fell to the ground, and a furious cry of pain ripped out of Seb’s throat. It only seemed to enrage him, and he landed a hard punch to Bard’s jaw with his good hand.
Bard stumbled but easily recovered and landed a blow of his own. Blood poured from Seb’s nose as he stumbled back and titled his chin up. A devious smile crossed his face.
Not a hair’s breadth away, Zeke still fought to overpower Carl who was just as large and seemed to have some fighting skill of his own, but it was obvious Zeke was winning. He was as fluid as a dancer, arms and legs moving in quick, perfectly timed synchronization. From what I could tell, Carl was only managing to block.
“Drake’s pretty upset with you, Jessie.” Seb pulled my attention back to him as his now bloody smile widened. “I bet he wouldn’t even mind if I had a little fun with you on the way back.”
Bard exploded. “Shut your fucking mouth!”
He lunged like a wild man and landed hit after hit hard; bone-crunching blows that didn’t leave Seb a chance to even register what was happening. More blood coated his face, ran down in thick sticky rivulets. My mind drifted and memories resurfaced. Blood, so much blood. My lungs clogged until I couldn’t breathe, and I fought to bring in oxygen. A rasp. A wheeze. Neither served me any purpose. My knees hit the ground, and a strangled gargle escaped me.
Bard’s head whipped over at the sound. When he saw the state I was in, he left his battered opponent and hurried over. “Jessie?” He bent down beside me. “Breathe. Try to calm down. It’s okay.”
He grabbed my head and forced it in between my knees. It helped to ground me, and I slowly managed to drag air into my lungs.
Seb recovered enough to take advantage of the distraction. He stumbled to his feet, fisted his hands together, and brought them down hard to the back of Bard’s head.
I cried out as Bard grunted and hit the ground.
Seb loomed above me, his smile triumphant. “I’m gonna take good care of you, Jessie. But first, I’m gonna kill this asshole. Whose fault is that? Hm-mmm? You sure do know how to fuck shit up, don’t ya?”
He pulled a knife.
“No!” I screamed, and without thinking, my body flung forward on its own accord, and my hands gripped hold of the gun half buried in the grass to my right.
Seb saw what I was about to do and hurried to stop me. In a flourish of events, I rolled onto my back, lifted my arms straight out above me, and pulled the trigger.
The recoil knocked me back and cracked my head to the hard soil. Spots filled my vision, but through the haze, I saw it. The bullet entered right between Seb’s eyes. His body dropped to the ground like a shovel’s worth of dirt, so quick. I stared at his face and into lifeless eyes still open and blank.
Bard scrambled over and pried the gun from my locked fingers.
Carl stood frozen knowing it was over. He was outnumbered.
Bard met his uncle’s gaze and nodded. Zeke moved forward two steps, gripped either side of Carl’s head, and in one swift twist, the man collapsed to the spot beside his lifeless friend.
I’d seen death. I’d witnessed torture, been tortured, forced to do countless things—things that left permanent scars where no one could see—but I’d never in my life been as terrified as I was in that moment.
I killed Seb.
Whatever I’d imagined Drake would do before, it was nothing compared to what would happen to me now. Mental images of everything that had happened and everything that could ran through my mind. My eyes reconnected with the lifeless ones of the body directly in front of me, and I heard a scream rip through the air. It wasn’t until Bard grabbed me that I realized it was my lungs that were producing that terrifying sound.
“Shhh…” Bard murmured. He pulled me up and nuzzled my hair. “We had to. They’re gone now.”
My heart thundered. Adrenaline shook my body and rattled my teeth.
Bard gently slid his arms beneath my back and behind my knees then hoisted me up. His long strides made short work of the small distance to the motorhome.
“He’s going to hurt me,” I rasped. I felt him, the devil himself, gripping my heart. For some reason, I was sure Drake already knew. I fucked up so massively, he’d somehow sensed it.
“He won’t fucking touch you.” Despite the rough tone, his hold remained gentle, comforting.
He rested me on his chest so that he could use his right hand to open the door. Then swiftly carried me to the back bedroom and laid me down across the bed.
“Don’t leave,” he said, his voice soft. He leaned over me. “Zeke and I will take care of it. Just…try to sleep.”
“I should help.” I tried to sit up. It was my fault, my burden. They shouldn’t have to deal with it. I should…
Bard gently pushed me back down. “No. Help me by being here when I get back.” His eyes bore into mine, and I could do nothing but nod in agreement. I’d killed him—killed one of Drake’s main guys—and Zeke killed another. This was bad; worse than it had ever been. When he found me, he’d…
“Jessie.” Bard pulled me back from my thoughts. “Promise me you won’t leave.”
His eyes didn’t cut. They pleaded.
He nodded once, gave me one last long look, then left me there as he went back to help his uncle dispose of the bodies.
CHAPTER THIRTY
I couldn’t tell if my eyes were open, not with the thick inky black clouding everything around me. The burnt aroma of cigarette smoke filled my nose, and all the little hairs on my arms stood on end.
“You crossed a line, Jessie.” Drake’s voice echoed from somewhere behind. It was just as dark and twice as terrifying as my surroundings.
I froze, too afraid to move. My heart, however, tried to run. It beat against my ribs in frantic, desperate attempts to break free.
“What do you think I should do?” His footsteps slowly approached like a pendulum. Tap. Tap. Tap.
I tensed, readying myself for what I knew was coming. The smell of the smoke grew stronger, and my back burned in anticipation. A traitorous whimper slipped past my lips.
Not again.
“Are you afraid?” It was fun for him. Every time. Always. So much fun.
I knew not to fight back, not to run, not to call out for help. It would only make it worse. The sick fuck would only enjoy it more.
His steps drew to a stop right beside me. His body heat seemed too warm, his familiar scent too strong. It was the same cologne he always wore, but to me, it smelled like pain.
“You fucked up extra bad this time, Jessie.” The fury I knew laid just beneath his surface leaked out into his words. “You fucked up really fucking bad.”
Rough hands yanked my shirt up.
I squeaked and huddled in on myself. Be small. Be a harder target. Protect your face. It was always the same. It would always come back to this. There was no escape.
“You know,” he started, “every time you force me to do this, it only makes me angrier.” He ran his palm across my skin, tracing each scar. “You think I like fucking up my things?”
The cherry of the cigarette made contact, sizzling as its red, hot fire sunk into my already-mangled back.
My teeth pierced my lip as I bit back a scream.
