by Madison Faye
I was also going to need gas really soon.
Well, that and money…if I even had enough gas to even get some place to spend it.
I’d purposely left the the major highways behind in order to stay off the radar in case Joe as already after me. Rightfully, of course, but there’s one thing about highways; they do a pretty great job of getting you to gas when you need it. Out here on country route 88 though, there was nothing; not a thing that I could see on the horizon. I knew I was low, but by the time I actually realized the gas light was on, things were looking bleak.
Finally, way up on the horizon, I spotted a big gas station logo I recognized, and felt the relief wash over me. Getting suck out here in the badlands of wherever I was without gas, or money, or even any idea where I was going wasn’t exactly going to help me much.
It wasn’t until I got closer, the car practically sputtering on fumes, that I groaned as I saw the reality.
The gas station was dead, like, zombie move dead. The place probably hadn’t been open and pumping fuel in twenty years, which was more and more apparent as I pulled in, as if actually stopping next to a pump was going to somehow magically convince it to start pumping again.
I groaned as I shut off the engine and slumped my forehead against the wheel. I had no idea how long the gas light had been on, but getting to wherever the next station was seemed like a bleak prospect. But I was exhausted, the afternoon was getting late, and sitting here kicking myself for being an idiot and not taking the highway wasn’t going to do any good either.
“Back on the road then,” I mumbled out loud, swearing to myself as I pushed the keys back in the ignition. There was a soft chugging sound for a moment a the car tried to rumble to life before it gave up with a wheezing sound.
Oh you’ve got to be shitting me I thought to myself. I tried again and swore loudly as the same sounds and same results repeated themselves.
I was officially out of gas, officially stuck on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, and officially screwed.
The dull, thundering roar came from behind me, the searing churn of engines growing louder and louder until I turned just in time to see the two motorcycles go flying down the deserted stretch of road. I’d gotten a glimpse of leather and tan skin before they’d blown right past the deserted gas station in a cloud of dust.
Suddenly though, way down the stretch of road there, I saw them suddenly slow and turn, before I could hear the engines growl again as they began to roar back my way.
I could feel my blood run cold. Here I was sitting alone in my car at an abandoned gas pump on a deserted stretch of highway, with zero cell phone reception and two bikers had just turned around to head back to me. All of a sudden every crazy late-night college story about biker gangs and initiation “mayhem” came rushing into my head, and I found myself gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, feeling the fear shoot through me.
What if Joe had sent them?
I quickly snapped out of my trance and locks the doors as they roared loser, before suddenly realizing how ridiculous a move it was. As if a closed window on an empty highway was going to stop them.
The two roaring bikes came rolling into the dusty, cracked-pavement of the gas station. With a final snarling crescendo and a pop, the thundering sound cut out suddenly, and there was silence.
The two motorcycles, all black, leather, and chrome, had come to a stop about twenty feet in front of my truck, their engines off now and ticking quietly in the afternoon heat. But what really caught my eye were the two men sat astride the bikes. They were both were clad in dark boots, denim, and leather vests over chiseled and heavily inked torsos with muscled, equally tattooed arms. These guys didn’t look like a couple of yuppies out on their weekend motorcycles. I thought again about all those “biker gang” stories; these guys looked like the real deal.
One of them dismounted with practiced ease, shaking his dirty blond hair out as he pulled off his helmet and hung it on the handlebars. He kept his sunglasses on, but I could tell they were both just sitting there looking at me. He looked at his partner and nodded, and I could feel my breath start to come in heaving gasps.
Oh my God, this is how it happens. This is how no one ever sees me again.
The man who’d stepped off his bike pulled his sunglasses off then as he turned and started to move towards me, like some sort of jungle cat stalking his prey. I could see his eyes then - sharp and blue, and trained right on me, and I could feel the cold dread welling upside as I sat there hyperventilating inside the hot confines of my car.
He stopped a few feet from the car and furrowed his brow as he looked at me, before he suddenly took a step back and raised his hands up. “Look, we were just seeing if you were having car trouble.”
The blonde guy’s voice was honeyed, with just a touch of twang in it. There was a lopsided, cocky grin on his face as he stood there in jeans and a white t-shirt pulled tight across a thickly muscled chest. Inked tattoo lines ran out from under the fabric and down his arms.
God he was attractive. Rough-looking, yes, but in that rugged, manly way that you really only saw in the movies.
I took a deep breath. Screw it. If they wanted to hurt me, it’s not like a locked car door and a rolled up window were going to stop them out here in the middle of nowhere.
I opened the door. “Well, the car is fine, I guess its just the gas I’ve got a problem with.”
The man grinned, his blue eyes flashing at me. “Well, the pumps off, so there’s your problem.” His grin widened, showing his white teeth and his chiseled jaw line. His friend snorted behind him, before standing and taking his own helmet off. His long black hair was held back from his face in a small ponytail and a coarse and thick beard framed his lips. The two of them strode forward, hard, muscled, and sweating in the desert heat. I felt a flutter of nervous energy hit me, and I took a deep breath.
“I’m Jackson, and this is Connor.” I stepped from the car and shook the blonde guy’s hand, feeling the power in his grip before turning to the dark haired bearded guy and doing the same.
“Abby.”
“Where you headed, honey?”
I shook my head, my eyes still hidden behind the sunglasses I wore. “I- I don’t actually know. West, I guess?” I forced a smile, trying not to think about what might still be coming after me. “Just taking a trip and hoping to get some adventures along the way.”
“Well, I’d say you tripped right into one right here.” Jackson’s eyes glinted as his hardened face cracked into a smile. “Well listen, we canspare a bit to get you down the road a little bit. There’s a little town about twenty miles further with a gas station and a diner, and motel if you’re not looking got keep driving all night.”
I shook my head, the fear and apprehension I’d had when they’d first rolled in just dropping away. “That would be amazing! You guys are life savers, thanks so much!”
Connor’s eyes’s narrowed at me, and his grin turned darker. “Rules of the road apply through honey - cash, grass, or ass.”
I froze, all the fear from earlier hitting me all at once again.
“No one rides for free.” His eyes flashed at me, the corners of his mouth curling up.
Oh, they want to get paid.
I let my breath out again, feeling my pulse race. “Oh, shit, yeah of course, I can totally pay you guys-”
The two of them broke down in laughter, snorting and clapping each other on the back.
“Don’t listen to him, honey, he’s just being a fucking asshole,” Jackson said with a cocky grin, rolling his eyes at his friend. I let out a shaky breath, feeling my knees go week as I leaned against the side of my car.
Awww shit, I’m just fuckin with you girl!” The two men chuckled deeply, weeping with laughter as I felt the blood come back into my face.
Connor grinned and shook his head. “Sorry, darlin, couldn’t resist. We’re happy to help - got a spare tank strapped to the back of mine.”
I
let out a slow, heavy stream of air, feeling the blood rush back into my limbs as I watched him chuckle as he headed back to his bike.
“Sorry for my friend, he thinks he’s humorous.” Jackson arched a brow at me, those piercing blue eyes looking right into mine through the shaded I wore. Part of me felt rude not taking them off, but doing so mean showing them the black eye behind them, and I just didn’t feel like going down that route.
Ten minutes later, I was watching as Connor screwed the cap back onto my tank and shut the flap.
“It’s not much, but it should get you to town at least.”
I shook my head, biting my lip. “I can’t even thank you enough for it. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you guys hadn’t driven by.”
“Not a problem, darlin,” Jackson said with another easy smile. His eyes dipped down to my bare arm, and suddenly he frowned. I followed his look and felt my cheeks blush as I quickly tucked my arms across my chest, hiding the bruise from Joe.
“Everything okay, honey?” His honeyed voice drawled out as he looked up at me, his eyes narrowing.
“Oh, yeah, everything’s fine,” I said, nodding quickly and forcing a smile to my face.
“You sure?” Connor jaw tightened as he started to peer closer at the hair I’d let fall over the edge of my sunglasses.
“I’m fine, really,” I said quickly, taking a deep breath. “Thank you so much for the gas, honestly. I can send you money if you give me your-”
“It’s really not a problem, darlin,” Jackson said, his voice even as he glanced once more at my arm. “Town isn’t far - you should rest up there for the night.”
I nodded, chewing on my lip.
“Marge Rawlings runs the motel and the diner in town,” Connor said with a nod. “Best cup of coffee for forty miles, I swear.”
Jackson snorted. “Only cup of coffee for forty fucking miles, but it’s a good one.”
I laughed, somehow feeling more human in that moment with the two rough strangers on the side of the road than I had in months with Joe and my life back in Vegas. My eyes ran over the two men, and I blushed as I realized that for probably the fourth time since they pulled up, I was full-on checking them out. I mean they were gorgeous, in that road-hardened, masculine way - a way that had my pulse skipping a beat and a shiver running though my body.
God, I bet they’re amazing in bed.
I blushed as soon as I thought it, quickly dipping my eyes down the ground, even if they were hidden by sunglasses. What sort of person was I, standing on the side of a desert road checking out two strangers while on the run from my boyfriend.
A free person, that’s what, the voice inside shouted indignantly.
I took a breath, realizing I was just staring at the two bikers like a total weirdo. “Well, sounds like a great cup of coffee to me,” I said with a smile, feeling that flutter run through me agains as both men eyed me with broad grins on their faces. “I’ll have to check it out.”
And weirdly, right them, I didn’t want them to leave. I was feeling better than I had in months there on the side of the road with the two of them, and I was suddenly worried about falling back into that pit of despair as soon as they left. They might be total strangers, and maybe even a little scary even as nice as they were being, but they were also treating me better than Joe ever had, and that was something.
“Do…um, do you want to come get a cup with me?” I felt like an idiot the second I said it, and I actually cringed when the words slipped past my lips.
“Sorry, I mean, only if you—”
“We’d love to, darlin,” Jackson said with an easy grin, running his fingers through his dirty blond hair. “But we gotta take a rain check. Got some business we need to get to.”
I could feel the heat blooming hot across my face and chest. “Oh, right, of course.”
“We live in town though, well, outskirts,” Connor said in his gravely voice. “I’d sure take a rain check on that.” He winked at me, and I felt that same illicit little thrill I’d had early when thinking about the two of them in bed run through me once again.
“If you’re staying at Marge’s motel, we’ll look you up there tomorrow if you’d still want to get that coffee then.”
I felt my pulse quicken. “Definitely.”
Jackson grinned. “Well, start ‘er up and make sure it’s running.”
I nodded as I opened the door the car and slid in. The engine turned instantly, and the car rumbled to life. Connor nodded. “Should get you to town no problem, Abby.”
His eyes lingered on me as he said my name, and I could feel the thrill of that gaze tingle over my skin. I closed the door and rolled the window down. “Again, I can’t thank you guys enough.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jackson said with another panty-melting smile. “You can pay us back by getting into town tonight in one piece.”
“A cup of coffee tomorrow,” Connor added, winking at me again.
“You bet,” I said with a smile as I put the car into drive and pulled out of the empty gas station, my eyes on the two men in my review mirror.
Chapter 3
Jackson
20 minutes earlier
I gunned the engine, feeling the Harley roar between my legs and Con and I barreled down the empty highway. We let the throttle out at same time, opening the bikes up to insane speeds as we hit the straightaway that let out past the west plains outside town. Well, insane maybe to the outsider, but Connor and I knew these roads like the back of our hands. We probably could’ve done this drive with our fuckin eyes shut, truth be told.
We’d grown up here in Parker, Nevada. Con and I had been best buds from the get-go, and when both of us lost families early on, we’d stuck together like our own little family. Bikes were in our blood early on, but so was fierce independence, which is probably why we’d stuck around a town like Parker, which was home to more than a few outlaw and off-the-grid types, along with people who just wanted to be free.
Suited us pretty good.
We’d tried to patch in to a few clubs, but honestly, it’d never stuck. Guess we had a bit too much of that independent streak for even most bike clubs. So, we’d started our own two-man team. Con and I had grown up rough, and we weren’t afraid of the outlaw life. Drugs we stayed the fuck away from, but we had our fingers in pretty much everything else - ran some guns for a few cartels, did the odd security gig for underground card games, and maybe even the odd smack-down if the price was right.
We weren’t going to get rich doing this shit, but it afforded us the life we needed. Gas for the bikes, drinks when we got thirsty, pussy when we needed it, and the freedom of the open road.
How many fuckers with a nine-to-five job and a 401k can say they’ve got nothing tying them down?
I could see the sign of the old Lux Oil station up ahead as we roared around the bend. The place had been empty for years, but Con and I had both had our first jobs changing oil and pumping gas at that place when we were kids. We still pulled in sometimes on our way back through town to take a beer break.
Also a great place to bring chicks, I might add.
Today wasn’t going to be one of those days though, because today we were on a job. I’d never really been a fan of the “find and retrieve” type gigs we got from time to time, especially when it was from those wannabe mob fuckers. It was also some poor shit-head who couldn’t pay his loanshark back, or some guy who’d looked a the wrong guy the wrong way, or some other macho bullshit like that. But the call we’d got last night from the guy who said he worked “for the family” had been too good to ignore when he’d named his price.
Fifty-fucking-grand was a lot of cash just to find some girl.
I didn’t know who this chick was and why anyone would pay that kind of cash for her, but fuck it - wasn’t my job to think past finding the silver Honda she’d last been seen in.
Like the fuckin’ one parked right there at the old Lux station.
Holy fuck.
&nbs
p; Connor and I looked at each other at the same damn time as we roared past the place, and I saw him nod, his face grim. I mean what were the fucking odds that the very girl we were looking for would drive through Parker instead of taking the highway? I nodded back as we both slowed at the same time, before we pulled a turn in the road and started to head back. Hell, it might not be here, but damned if we weren’t going to check those plates and make sure. I reached back into the saddlebag on the bike behind me, loosening the pistol from the holster it was buckled into. The chances of having to use it were pretty fucking slim, but I always erred on the side of being prepared.
I kept my hand on the gun as we pulled in and slowed to a stop. And then I almost had to grin as I saw the girl that matched the very description we were looking for, sitting in the car with the same damn plates we were looking for.
Yeah, this was about to be the easiest fifty thousand buck we’d ever made.
“So now what.”
I took a deep breath as I watched Abby’s car pull out of the gas station and trail off down the road. I reached into my pocket and pulled my pack of smokes out, sticking one in my mouth as I glanced at Connor. “She doesn’t know.”
He snorted and snatched the pack from my hand. “No shit, man. I mean now what the fuck are we gonna do.”
I sparked my lighter, holding the flame to the end of the cigarette and inhaling before tossing it to Con. “Jesus Christ, what’s a girl that looks like that doing getting caught up with the fuckin mob?”
And the bruises. I know we’d both seen them - the ones on her arms and the swelling around her eye she’d tried to hide with sunglasses and her hair - and I knew it hit a chord with both of us. We’d both come from families of men who hit women. My dad had the decency to develop a heroine addiction and die young, Connor’s had taken his mother and him both off the side of a highway doing one-twenty.
Fuck that shit.
The guys who’d called us had said this girl Abby had “wronged” the family, and “tried to hurt important members.” Yeah, I called bullshit on that. That girl hand’t tried to hurt anyone, and I knew we both damn well knew it.
