Yeger spit blood toward Phil and then launched himself at Savage, swinging his fist up, his gun spitting bullets. Savage flung himself to the side, slamming his arm hard against Yeger’s as the weapon came up. Yeger rolled and turned the gun toward Soleil. Savage was on him before he could fire, his punches fierce. Hard. Relentless. Not giving Yeger the chance to get off another shot. Yeger fought, trying to pound Savage in the face with the gun, trying to turn it back on him. Ice could have told him that was a bad idea.
Savage caught the wrist and snapped it back all in one motion. The weapon went flying and Yeger howled. Savage punched him several more times, taking the fight out of him.
“And the other one.”
Ice’s prisoner had been stoically silent. Now he glared at Phil, as if somehow he thought he was going to frighten the man. Phil had eyes only for the violent beating Savage had given to Yeger.
“Basil Alanis.”
Again, Ice remembered the name. He was the other man who had raped and intimidated Rich Marshal’s wife in order to force her to stay with Rich in spite of the fact that the man was molesting her daughters. He was also part of the human trafficking ring that took the children deemed too old for the pedophile ring.
“And the collector. Give me the name of the collector.” Absinthe spoke softly, but Phil continued to stare at Yeger’s bleeding body.
They needed that name above any others. He was the man targeting and murdering families in order to fulfill his orders for young boys or girls.
Yeger tried hard to speak, but his mouth was so fucked up it was impossible. Clearly, he didn’t want Phil to continue. Like Torpedo Ink, Yeger knew they couldn’t afford to keep up with the interrogation. They had found out quite a bit in the three minutes gone by, but a car could be along any minute and they couldn’t afford to be seen.
“I don’t know! I don’t know!” Phil shrieked.
“Shit,” Ice spat. “Time’s up. We can’t stay.” He wanted the connection between Winston and the pedophiles.
“We can’t take them with us to interrogate them,” Absinthe said, regret in his voice. “We’re on bikes. And they know where Soleil is.”
Ice shrugged. “Let them bring it.” He shot Basil in the head.
Savage did the same for the mess that was Yeger. Absinthe pulled out his gun and executed Phil just as quickly.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Savage said. “Did either of you touch anything?”
“The door,” Ice said. “I was wearing gloves.”
“I’ll wipe down the car,” Savage said. “Get her out of here.”
He glanced over to Soleil. Absinthe and Ice did as well. She was pale, her hands over her mouth as if covering a scream. Ice knew Soleil wasn’t used to sudden violence. This had to be a thousand times worse than anything she’d witnessed with Winston. She was probably scared out of her mind.
He straightened up and shoved his gun into the side holster before starting toward her. Soleil backed up a couple of steps. He stopped and picked up his bike, running his eyes over it to ensure it was in good working order.
“Baby, get over here. We have to leave before we’re seen.”
She was used to giving him what he wanted, and she took several steps toward him but then she stopped, shaking her head. “You just shot them. In the head. You just shot them, Ice.”
“We had no choice. These men were here for you. Now get the fuck on the bike now. We’re running out of time.” He took his colors off, rolled the jacket and pushed it into a compartment on his Harley. “Now.” He hissed the last command.
Soleil came to him, albeit reluctantly, but she came. She put her hand on his shoulder to steady herself while she straddled the machine. Her hand was trembling. The Harley started with a roar. He reached back, gripped her hands and yanked them to his belly, forcing her arms around him.
She was shaking nearly uncontrollably. He couldn’t blame her. She wasn’t a woman exposed to violence. Immediately, he had them speeding down the highway, looking for the first road that would take them on a circular route back to Caspar without actually riding along the coast where they could be seen and identified.
Savage and Absinthe would remove evidence of their being there, particularly the spots where they’d dropped their bikes and Soleil’s footprints running to the brush and coming back. Like Ice, they would remove their colors and find an alternate route so few people would ever see them. It was the best they could do to cover their tracks in the minutes they had to get things cleaned up and them gone.
Savage would have to search the car to ensure there was nothing to lead back to them. That would take an extra minute, time they might not have. Ice cursed and slammed his fist against his thigh. If Savage was compromised because he didn’t wait and help, he would lose one of his brothers to prison. Savage wouldn’t do well in prison. He’d pick fights every day. They knew that because he’d been sent to prison to take out a threat to the government. He’d been in several weeks and had spent quite a bit of time in solitary. He had gotten into fights many times and come close to killing with his fists. It hadn’t been easy getting him out.
Ice hit his thigh again. Off to his right, across the highway, was the road that cut through the mountain. He turned off immediately to get off the main highway. The first few months they’d settled in Caspar, they’d learned every back road, even the ones that were dirt. There were so many logging roads that every part of the highway was connected somewhere. As they’d learned the ones close to Caspar, they’d begun spreading out, going farther and farther from home. They’d made certain they had escape routes set up everywhere along the highway.
He slowed his Harley, not wanting to draw attention to himself. The others would be riding after him, minus their colors, just two men riding together in the early morning hours on back roads. Bike enthusiasts did it all the time. As long as no one looked too closely, they’d be fine—if Savage had gotten away safely.
The road was mostly shadowed by trees, which meant it was wet in places and covered in pine needles in others. He maneuvered through the various “danger” zones easily and kept them moving in the general direction of Caspar.
“Stop.” Soleil put her mouth against his ear. “Stop right now, Ice.”
He tried to pat the back of her hand, but she jerked it out from under him. “Can’t do it, babe. Too dangerous.”
“Savage will have left DNA back there! They’ll arrest me as an accessory! You killed those men!” She was shouting, saying every thought crowding into the chaos of her mind.
He could feel her entire body trembling. He dropped his hand to her thigh and rubbed. “He knows what to do. He wore gloves and he’ll leave evidence behind that points elsewhere. Nothing that will jump out. Take a breath, Soleil. We’re on the way home and we’ll talk this out when we get there.”
“I want to stop. I need to breathe.”
“You’re having a panic attack.” Ice flinched inwardly. Sooner or later, the cops could find a tie between Soleil and these men. The men might have stopped and asked questions. They’d searched for her and gone to the bar in Vegas, although if Fred had talked to the cops, even his own club would turn on him. “Just breathe. We’re not stopping, and you’re going to pull yourself together.”
“You killed those men,” she repeated. “I think Savage beat that one to death. Or at least came close. You killed them.”
“They were here to kill you. If you’re dead and you haven’t filed any papers, that lawyer Winston hired can say just about anything he wants!” Ice had to shout to be heard above the pipes. Even going slow, communication was difficult. “Damn it, Soleil, pull yourself together. This is serious. All of our lives are in your hands. You’d better know you can handle it.”
She went instantly silent, too still. She also held herself stiffly, away from him. Her hands crept from around his waist to fist in his
shirt at his sides. He was in a shitload of trouble with her and he probably should have handled the situation with care, but he was worried that Savage and Absinthe hadn’t gotten away cleanly.
He couldn’t call them to ask because he didn’t want his phone to have any evidence that they were out riding in this direction. His locator was off, but he knew if he called, the cell tower would be instant evidence. Soleil’s cell phone was still in the end-table drawer beside the bed. Winston had blown up her phone with his “worried” calls. He was already setting up for the cops to think she’d had a breakdown. He’d been very solicitous. Ice had told her not to answer until they knew what they were doing.
He cursed again. He had to have Absinthe file papers immediately, but after this fiasco, persuading her to use him as her lawyer, and to trust Torpedo Ink—and Ice—was not going to be easy. He couldn’t take the time to stop until they were miles from the scene, and even then, he would prefer to keep going so they couldn’t be seen at all. He would wait until they were at the clubhouse before he texted Czar and Steele to come as well so they could put a plan in place if and when the cops came sniffing around.
They kept to the back roads, moving slowly. Once, a car came along, but he heard it before it got to them, so he pulled into deeper shadows and angled the bike away from the road so the license plate couldn’t be seen easily. The moment the car was a good distance away, they were back on the road, traveling toward Caspar.
The sun had climbed into the sky by the time he made it into Caspar and their clubhouse. Soleil was off the bike without help, backing away from him, wrapping her arms around her body and looking around her as if she might make a run for it. Ice gave her a few moments to make up her mind, pretending to tinker with his bike before sliding off. He looked at her. She’d been crying. He didn’t blame her. The scene must have been shocking to her.
“Soleil.” He used his gentlest voice and held out his hand to her. “Let’s go inside. We’ll get some coffee and warm up.”
She held up her hand. “I need to think. I have to get past panic and think.”
“You can do that inside where it’s warm.” He stepped closer to her, using a very subtle glide he’d perfected when he was a boy, learning to kill. He could inch within striking distance and his prey never realized he had done so until it was too late.
Soleil looked so pale her skin was nearly translucent. Her eyes were wide with shock, giving the illusion that they were too big for her face.
She looked at the clubhouse and then around the grounds. One hand crept protectively to her throat. He wanted her to come to him for protection.
“Baby, I know you’re scared. That was a very violent and scary, fucked-up mess. It happened so fast. We were on the main highway where anyone could have come by at any moment.” He couldn’t help glancing up to the highway, not that Savage or Absinthe would come that way. Like Ice, they would use the old logging roads to make their way home.
“Just come inside with me and we’ll talk it out.” He inched closer, seeming not to move. He didn’t want her running. He wanted—even needed—her trust. He didn’t deserve it. They’d spent a month together, and most of the time he’d related to her through sex. He was afraid to talk too much to her about himself, to give too much of his life away. He should have, though. He should have done more than just have sex with her at every turn; he should have given her something solid to hold on to.
“I’m not going anywhere, Ice.” She took a deep breath and ran her hands down her thighs, rubbing up and down as if to warm herself. “I just need to walk around for a few minutes and sort things out in my mind before I’m inside, where I might have more trouble breathing.”
She meant before she felt trapped and unable to run if she needed to, Ice was certain. She was still trembling so hard he was afraid she might fall. In the distance, coming from the north, he heard the sound of pipes. Even fainter, coming from the south, on Highway 1, he heard more. Soleil heard them too, and panic set on her face.
Reaper was the first to arrive, coming in from a back road north of the property. Anya was on the back of the bike. As soon as the bike was parked, Anya jumped off and went straight to Soleil as if she didn’t notice that Soleil was close to running.
“Honey. How terrible. Ice texted us about the men who were after you. I know what that feels like.” She threw her arms around Soleil and hugged her close. “You’re shaking.” She glared at Ice. “She needs to be inside, where it’s warm.”
Soleil immediately shook her head. She wasn’t the type of woman to let someone else—especially Ice—take the blame. “Ice wanted me inside, I just couldn’t breathe.”
Anya ran her hands up and down Soleil’s arms as if to warm her. “I overheard things I shouldn’t have at my work, and the next thing I know, my roommate is dead and I’m on the run. That’s how I ended up here, in Caspar. They were looking for a bartender.” She took a couple of steps toward the clubhouse, her hand still on Soleil’s arm.
“They killed your roommate?” Soleil’s voice sounded faint.
Ice made a move toward her, wanting to wrap her in his arms, but the moment he did, Soleil stiffened and looked frightened. He detested that look on her face.
Anya sent him a quick flick of her lashes, a veiled reprimand, and he stopped immediately. Czar and Blythe were next, coming from the south, and Steele and Breezy had wound their way through Caspar to park beside Reaper’s bike. Both women went straight to Soleil while their men went to Ice.
Czar indicated the clubhouse, clearly wanting Ice to move ahead of him. He knew Savage and Absinthe were probably close. He didn’t want Soleil outside when they drove in. He shook his head.
“They’ll get her inside,” Czar said. “Let them take care of her.”
“It got messy. If she sees Savage, she might freak out and then I’ll have to force her inside, and that will just get ugly. She’s really shaken up, Czar. It isn’t like she’s been exposed to this kind of life before.”
“You have to trust them, Ice, just like you trust us.”
“Where’s Lana? Or Alena? She trusts them.”
“They left this morning to pick up supplies in Ukiah for the restaurant and clubhouse.”
Ice swore and reluctantly went with the men inside. The moment the door swung closed, he went to the window to watch the women with Soleil. Blythe was the one they all counted on for calm in the middle of the storm, but he could see both Breezy and Anya were equally as composed.
It took only a couple of minutes before the group was coming up the walkway to the door. Ice hadn’t realized his heart was working overtime. He glanced at his twin, Storm, and shook his head. Storm placed a cup of coffee on the table.
“Got your text. I’m sorry this happened, Ice. You must be worried that they found her.”
Ice was more worried that she would want to leave him. He had no idea how he’d react. Everything in him rejected the idea of losing her. She’d been getting comfortable with the club. He’d made a point of making certain she knew his married brothers and their wives.
Reaper had been first, Savage’s brother, who pretty much scared the crap out of anyone who looked at him, much like Savage did. Reaper was married to Anya. She worked as a bartender for the club. Soleil liked Anya quite a lot, and they spent time together.
Breezy was married to Steele, their vice president. Breezy had been born into the life and was very comfortable with their ways. They had a son, and she rarely went anywhere without the boy. He’d been kidnapped and taken from her by her former club and she still had a difficult time having the boy out of her eyesight. Steele was the same way. Breezy took point at every party and helped ease the other women into the club life. Ice was grateful that when they got the call-out, they’d both come.
Lissa, married to Casimir, and Lexie, married to Gavriil, were rarely available, as both worked long hours elsewhere. She hadn’t
yet met either of them, but he hoped those introductions would come soon.
Then there was Blythe, Czar’s wife. There was something peaceful about Blythe, but she also gave off the aura of being able to solve any problem. She was the kind of woman that could be counted on. She was accepting, nonjudgmental and thoughtful before she spoke. The men and women in the club looked to her in a crisis.
As far as Ice was concerned, this was the biggest crisis he could have. It had to be handled delicately. Soleil had somehow become his world, and it wasn’t the sex, as much as he’d like to make it that. It was her. The woman. He needed her in his life.
“I can’t believe this shit. It had to happen right in front of her.”
The door opened and the women came into the common room. Storm had lit a fire in the stone fireplace, driving the chill from the large space. As soon as they were inside, Keys brought hot coffee to one of the tables, placing mugs out for the women. Soleil looked surprised as she thanked him.
Ice found himself relaxing just a little bit. His brothers and sisters were rallying around him, taking his back, making certain his woman felt the loyalty and strength of family.
“Why are these men after you?” Blythe asked.
Ice knew Blythe was fully aware of Soleil’s situation. Czar rarely kept her out of the loop and never if she asked him a direct question. She was keeping Soleil’s attention centered on the fact that someone wanted her dead and the club was protecting her.
“I got entangled with a con artist. He’s part of a ring of con men who target wealthy women. They marry them, murder them, and get the money.” Soleil blurted out the truth, her hands cradled around the coffee cup.
Her face was so pale, again, it was all Ice could do not to go to her. He wanted to be the one to comfort her. She needed comfort. She looked too fragile for their life. What had he been thinking bringing her into a world of violence when she couldn’t possibly understand it? He’d been selfish, thinking only of himself, not of her. He thought sex would be enough to satisfy her. He could make her feel special. Feel beautiful. Desirable. He hadn’t thought about the rest of it, the way she would have to live. An actual relationship. The others had warned him, but he hadn’t cared, thinking only of what he needed, and now she was paying the price.
Vendetta Road Page 29
