Flight.
I heave one deep, lung-packing breath and scramble to my feet amid the echo of gunshots in the night. My eyes dart around, looking for any indication of safety or relief. But even the glow of the moon isn’t quite enough to illuminate an obvious retreat plan. Before I can make the decision to just pick a way to go, I hear the panicked breathing and muffled footsteps of people running toward me. I turn to face them, fully expecting to be confronted with the barrel of a gun. But to my relief, these are familiar faces: Ironsides and Breaker. They come hurtling toward me with their eyes flashing, their faces wrought with worry.
Ironsides throws an arm around my shoulders and hisses, “Run!”
“Where? Where do we go?” I manage to choke out between sobs. I haven’t realized until now that I’ve been crying the whole time.
“Just go! We have to find Kate!” Breaker shouts hoarsely.
Shit. Kate is pregnant, making her the absolute most vulnerable person present. The horrific image of bullets ripping through her body flashes vividly into my head. Thanks, intrusive thought. That’s helpful, I think bitterly to myself.
“Run, run, run!” Ironsides demands, pressing at my back.
I do as I’m told, running half-blind with the two men flanking me. We’re trying to escape, but we’re hemmed in by the jagged shoreline. There are only so many ways to go, and into the freezing lake after dark isn’t one of them. It feels like we must be surrounded. No matter where we turn, there’s no easy answer.
“Where’s Bones?” Ironsides hisses to me.
“He ran,” I murmur tearfully. “Right toward the bullets.”
“Of course he did,” Breaker sighs, swiping a large hand over his face with frustration as we continue running along the water. “Always the hero. Always the martyr.”
“Oh god,” I whimper, imagining Bones’s body lying crooked on the beach by morning.
“He’ll be okay,” Ironsides says quickly, glancing at me. “He’s stronger than you even think he is. Don’t worry about him right now. You just keep moving, sweetheart.”
“Okay,” I sniffle.
“Breaker!” cries out a terrified female voice somewhere up ahead. Another crackle of gunshots and the woman falls to the ground. Breaker darts past me, white-hot rage in his eyes.
“Kate! Kate!” he bellows, diving down to the muddy earth beside her, shielding her body with his. Ironsides and I catch up to them and I realize with a gasp of relief that Kate seems unharmed so far by the bullets. Just terrified. And the stress cannot be good for the baby.
“We have to keep moving, Breaker,” Ironsides warns him, looking around frantically.
“She can’t run, Ironsides! She’s pregnant!” Breaker shoots back.
“She’s got to try,” he insists.
“I’ll stay with her,” I volunteer suddenly. Both men look at me like I’ve grown a second head. And maybe a third and fourth, as well.
“What do you mean?” Breaker demands.
“She can’t run. I’m no sprinter myself,” I explain quickly. “You two have to help Bones. He ran toward the gunners, and I can’t stand the idea of him facing them alone.”
“If you think I’m going to abandon Kate, you’re out of your mind,” Breaker retorts.
“She’s right,” Kate pipes up, to everyone’s surprise. “Go. Run. My legs are like jello. I can’t go anywhere.”
“I’ll carry you, then,” Breaker says doggedly. “I’ll carry you.”
She shook her head. “No. That’ll only make you a bigger target. Go, my love. Lauren and I will stay here and hunker down behind this dune. We’ll lie low,” she says.
“She might have a point, man,” Ironsides says gruffly. “Come on, Breaker. Bones needs us. If he’s going to survive this shit, he needs us.”
Breaker looks absolutely miserable at the idea of leaving Kate, but finally, after one desperate kiss, he pulls away. I take his place at Kate’s side, shielding her with my own body as much as I can while the two men dart off in the same direction Bones went.
“I’m so scared,” I admit softly, tears starting to streak down my face.
Kate nods and reaches to squeeze my hand, interlacing her fingers with mine. “I know. I’m scared, too,” she agrees. “Thank you for staying with me.”
“I can’t believe this is happening again,” I whisper, feeling utterly hopeless. “This is all my fault. I’m not allowed to have good things. I should have known I would be punished. And now I’ve put all of you in the crosshairs, too.”
“You can’t think of it that way. None of this is your fault,” Kate whispers back, shaking her head. Another crack of gunshot splits the air and we flatten ourselves down on the ground even more, hoping that the darkness will hide us.
“What will happen to Bones?” I murmur, even though I know she can’t give me the answer I need to hear. Kate pulls me close and hugs me as we lie on the beach, cowering.
“I don’t know,” she admits. “But if he’s anything like Breaker, he’ll get by.”
“How can you be so sure?” I whimper.
She gives me a soft, sorrowful smile. “I’m not. But when you fall in love with a man like that, you learn to accept the danger. It’s all worth it, even in the blackest moments,” she shares.
Before I can formulate a response, we hear the thudding of heavy footsteps coming our way and we duck down, covering our heads even though I can still peek with one eye. The men coming toward us are not familiar. And judging by the looks of pure evil on their faces, they are not friendly either.
“Shit,” I swear, trying to cover Kate’s body with mine to hide her. But the men come thundering up to us with their guns slung over their shoulders.
“Please, don’t!” I cry out. “Don’t hurt her!”
“Stand up,” grunts one of the men while the man other cocks his gun and aims it right at us. “I said get your ass up!” the guy growls angrily.
“Leave us alone!” I shoot back. We get up on our feet but I hold both arms out, trying to block them from touching Kate and her delicate pregnant belly. My knees feel like they’re made of papier-mache, my whole body trembling from head to toe.
The man without a gun rushes over and easily shoves me aside to grab Kate’s arm while the man with the gun starts in toward me. I freeze up for a split second, watching Kate get dragged away with pure terror in her eyes. And then, just as the man is reaching to take my arm, his fingertips barely brushing over my skin, my instincts kick back in.
Without another moment’s hesitation, I turn and bolt away in the opposite direction, hearing the two men shout angrily after me to come back, to give in. But I won’t. I can’t. Not even now that my hopes are so low and fragile. I’ve lost Bones. I had to give up Kate. And now I’m all on my own, just like it’s always been. I can hear thudding footsteps several yards behind me for a minute or so, one of the men clearly chasing after me. I hear a few more scattered gunshots, which make me wince every time. Every burst of fire flashes the image of another wounded, bloody body, shot through and collapsed on the beach. I’m running blind now, far enough from the bonfire that no light can guide me. It’s terrifying, but there’s one good thing about it: my assailant can’t see anything either. Maybe I can outrun him, or at least outlast him.
I’m no athlete, but I guess one could say I’ve had a lifetime of practice running away from my past. I know not to look back, not to waste time with bargaining or pleading. I remember Bones’s wise words, urging me to look ahead and never behind me. My legs are quaking and burning with exertion, my heart pounding like crazy. But I don’t stop. Not until my numb left foot hits a heavy stone and I wail with pain, tripping and falling to the ground… head first. My head slams into another, larger boulder and I realize I’ve run far enough away to have reached the jetties. I am cursed. There’s no question in my mind. And if not for me, this would have been just a happy, fun get-together of friends-made-family. But I ruin everything simply by existing. My presence puts others in
danger automatically. I will never escape my past, even if I run as hard and long as my body will let me. And I put others in danger, too. That’s the worst part, by far. Knowing that I alone am responsible for the pain and terror of the evening. The dark realization washes over me that I was wrong to think I can walk this life with Bones. I don’t deserve a companion. My life will always be terrifying. And if I don’t want to watch more of my loved ones die or disappear, I have to go it alone. It will be miserable, but it’s preferable to bringing everyone else down with me on the slowly sinking ship that is my life.
Still, fear is enough to propel me back on my feet. I keep running, even though my lungs are on fire. I don’t look back, and I don’t hear those footsteps anymore. But still, I assume he has to be there, chasing me down just like the dark specters of my past looming over my shoulder at all times. Finally, I manage to make out a watery, flickering light. Not the bonfire… a streetlight.
The road.
I summon as much strength as I can muster and start booking it toward the road. As I get closer, I see another woman about my age, maybe a little older, crouching down in the dirt. Her face is twisted and pale with pain, her hands clutching at her ankle. Even in the darkness I can tell that her ankle is swollen and turning purple. She looks up with terror in her eyes at the sound of my approaching, but I hastily offer her my hand.
“Come on,” I whisper fervently.
She hesitates for a moment, biting her lip as she looks at her swollen ankle. But then she takes my hand and I pull her up. She cries out in agony as her injured foot touches the ground, and I help her put an arm around my shoulders so she can limp alongside me.
“The road,” she gasps breathlessly. “We have to head toward the road.”
“I know. I know. We’re going that way, okay? We’re going to get there,” I promise her, even though I know damn well we might not make it. But when another burst of shots ring out, my injured companion limps faster, the two of us moving along as quickly as one could expect.
As we step into the faint, flickering glow of the streetlight, I can suddenly see farther than before. I stare down toward the area where the motorcycles are parked. My eyes lock onto a familiar silhouette, tall and bulky and tight-fisted. Bones. I know it’s him. And just as I’m about to run to him, to help him, I see another figure come swinging at him out of the darkness. I can’t hear it, but I can perfectly imagine the sound of that fist connecting squarely with his jaw. I cry out and try to run to him, blind love pushing me away from the injured woman toward Bones, but before I can make any headway, I feel a hand close tightly around my wrist.
“No!” I cry out, whirling around to face my attacker from the darkness. I don’t even get a chance to see his face properly before he slams a hand over my mouth and nose, his arm going around my neck. In a quick squeeze, all the air in my lungs dries up and I can’t breathe. The world lurches on its axis and everything goes dark.
Bones
Breaker tosses the newspaper down on the conference table in front of us, glaring around at each and every one of us so sharply that it could almost make the cut on my brow start bleeding again. My face might not be swollen anymore, but the signs of the fight are still showing as plain as day, and it’s what has everyone in the meeting room in a foul mood.
As for me, I’m barely able to think straight, I’m so angry, and this meeting Breaker called is the only thing keeping me from grabbing a shotgun and combing over the whole goddamn state looking for the fuckers who pulled that stunt.
All four of us are down here in the meeting: me, Breaker, Big Daddy, and Ironsides, none of us looking cheerful to be there. We hear the sharp sound of Breaker’s finger hitting the picture on the newspaper’s front page.
“Tell me what you see here, Big Daddy,” Breaker says, tapping the picture. “Describe it for me.”
Big Daddy isn’t normally one who likes to play these kinds of games, and Breaker knows that damn well, so I can’t imagine that wasn’t intentional. And sure enough, Big Daddy looks pissed off for a second before he knits his brow at Breaker.
“Prez, one of our own got hit hard last night,” he says. “What’s some news story about the fight at the bar got to do with any of that?”
“Because we have to figure this shit out and treat it like a goddamn investigation, apparently,” Breaker barks, sliding the paper toward Big Daddy. “And it just so happens that this paper is the best lead we have, so look at it and tell us what it says.”
Big Daddy grumbles and looms over the newspaper, eyes flitting over it as he digests it all.
“The picture on the front is Bones and his girl Lauren at the fight,” Big Daddy says, which is true enough.
I looks like a picture taken on someone’s phone of the fight at the bar upstairs the first night I met Lauren. And by the looks of things, it isn’t long after I threw the first punch and stopped him from drugging her. The angle, though, is less than ideal. The photographer took a pic right when Brandon was on his ass and I was barking at him to get up and fight me. I had to admit, from this angle, it looked a hell of a lot like there was a clear aggressor, and it wasn’t Brandon.
Lauren’s in the picture too, though, and I stare at her face and where it’s looking. I hadn’t seen her yet when this picture was taken, I don’t think. At least, we hadn’t made eye contact. But Lauren had definitely see me. The way her face looks in this picture, she’s devouring me with her eyes, piece by piece, and obviously she doesn’t look sympathetic with the jarhead on the ground next to her.
The article, on the other hand, has totally different sympathies.
“Wyoming Woman Who Accused Father of Kidnapping Enjoying Criminals, War Heroes Fight Over Her,” Big Daddy reads out with squinting eyes and a disgusted face. “What the fuck is this bullshit?”
“This bullshit is what’s all over Pine Haven right now,” Breaker says. “And yeah, anything your imagination is filling in about what it says is probably right. I’ll give you the short version: it spins a hell of an exciting little story about a spoiled brat who made a false accusation against her dad over a decade ago and is spending her time nowadays leaving a trail of broken hearts across Wyoming.”
“What the fuck?!” I shout, slamming my fist down on the table and snatching the paper from Big Daddy.
I glare at the words on the paper that all seem to meld together, and I can barely string two sentences together in my head, but what little I do catch sounds like Breaker’s summary is legit. The author, some dead man named Kevin Cranston, talks about Lauren as if she’s some homewrecker just out to have an idle good time. I have no idea what this journalist has against Lauren, but he seems to know her. Is this some other fucker from her past that she hasn’t mentioned?
“None of this bullshit about Lauren is true!” I snap, whacking the paper with my fingers. “I’ve seen the hurt in that sweet girl’s eyes, I don’t need a grand jury to convince me she’s telling the truth about her past!”
“Nobody’s doubting her here, Bones, calm down,” Breaker says quickly, holding out a hand to me as if warning me not to lose my cool. I have to admit, that’s easier said than done when some pencil-necked shitstain is slandering your girl. “Everyone here is on her side, right?”
“Right,” the other two say without missing a beat, and that makes me relax a little and give the guys each a curt nod.
“Good,” I say, rubbing my face. “But what the hell kind of business does this fucking newspaper think it has, trying to drag a decade-old case through the mud like that?”
“Very good question,” Breaker says, sighing. “Alright, everyone, here are the facts. That’s a respectable newspaper in the great state of Wyoming, and it decided to run what looks like a tabloid article about Bones’s girl. It makes her sound like some man-eating homewrecker sleeping around from bar to bar across Wyoming. And it makes the incident with this Brandon fucker look like she’s just getting a couple of semi-respectable men into playing games for her.”
&
nbsp; “Bones, no offense, but how’d you manage to find the girl half the state has it out for?” Big Daddy chuckles, and I punch him in the arm.
“Worse,” I add, pointing down at the paper, “it gives away where she is and mentions the Murray Smyth case by name.”
“Exactly, good catch,” Breaker says, frowning and nodding grimly. “Which means…”
“...that if Lauren’s dad gets out of prison, there’s a damn good chance he’ll know exactly where Lauren is if he’s even half-trying to track her down,” I explain, finishing for Breaker and leaving the table to pace the room, mind racing. “I told her it was crazy to think her dad was coming after her now that he might have a taste of freedom, but this is too much. Something doesn’t add up, and it’s pissing me off that we keep missing it. It feels like the whole goddamn world’s coming down around our ears!”
“If it feels like we’re missing something, then we probably are,” Breaker says. “Alright, and on that note, what the fuck happened at the party last night, and how is this related?” he demands, tapping the article. “Too close together to be a coincidence. It wasn’t run this morning, but it was recent.”
“So what you’re saying is,” I say, crossing my arms and turning to face the guys, “the fuckers who took Lauren might have seen this article, used that to track her down, and grabbed her.”
“Exactly,” Breaker says, nodding firmly. “That doesn’t tell us exactly why they hit us at a party, but Pine Haven is small and everyone knows everyone. I wouldn’t be surprised if they just asked around town once they honed in that much.”
“That doesn’t give them a motive, though,” I say, scratching my stubble. “We don’t know who those fuckers were, except that they weren’t local.”
“And that tells us something,” Breaker says. “My bet is those were some of Brandon’s military buddies out for revenge for Brandon getting humiliated like that when Bones put him in his place.”
Bones: Heartbreaker MC #2 Page 12
