Karen pulled her gaze away from the stocky, dangerous man called Stoner. She didn’t want to know how he’d gotten that name.
“You want to clone marijuana?” She let out a snort of disbelief. “That’s illegal in Idaho. In most states, in fact.”
Pink Eyes chortled. “Indeed it is, little lady. But in Washington, Oregon and Colorado it is legal. Do you think those guys really care where their marijuana comes from? Do you think they give a shit if it’s grown illegally?” His voice hardened. “No, they don’t. The users just want to get high and the sellers just want to make money.” He paused a moment, studying her. “So, can it be done or not?”
Karen hesitated. Should she lie? Tell them it couldn’t be done? The man called Stoner eyed her through the holes in his hood. Her heart skipped a beat. If only she could see his face. If only she could see more than those cold eyes that were locked on her.
Despite her small size, not many people intimidated her. But Stoner did. It wasn’t his broad chest or his wide shoulders or even his hard stare that unnerved her. It was his silence, as well as not being able to see his face, that made her uncomfortable. She had no idea who was behind that hood.
So why didn’t Pink Eyes scare her the way Stoner did? She wasn’t able to see his face either. And what further confounded her was that Pink Eyes was obviously evil. The man had shot another person in cold blood. He was a murderer. Pink Eyes rubbed her the wrong way. Karen sensed he was a mean bully. And she hated bullies.
But Stoner…there was something about Stoner that caused her to be overly aware of him and she couldn’t quite place what it was. Maybe if he spoke, or maybe if she caught a glimpse of his face, she would understand.
She cleared her throat. “Some plants are more difficult than others,” she said at last, becoming more and more aware of Stoner’s presence next to her as the seconds ticked by. More and more aware of his gaze boring into her. Why did she have the urge to squirm under his hard stare? “But I’ve never tried cannabis before. For obvious reasons. Number one being that it’s illegal.”
Pink Eyes let out a nasty chuckle, making Karen’s skin crawl. “But it can be done?”
She shrugged. “Probably. If you have the right environment.”
“What’s the right environment?”
“A properly controlled, sterile lab with a good medium and the right amount of heat and humidity. Micropropagation is a delicate and tedious process. You’ll never be able to do it without an expert botanist’s help.”
So there, asshole. Good luck finding a botanist willing to do it for you.
Pink Eyes narrowed his gaze on her. “I already have an expert botanist.” He paused, watching her face.
“You do?” She shouldn’t be surprised. If this guy was an illegal marijuana supplier, he probably had a botanist he paid well to grow pot for him. “Well, good for you.”
Pink Eyes glanced at Stoner. He chuckled. “She has no clue, does she?”
The man named Stoner shrugged, but he still didn’t speak.
“You, Ms. Williams, are my expert botanist,” Pink Eyes declared. “So be glad you know how to clone plants, lady. If you didn’t, you’d already be dead.”
Karen reared back, the blood draining from her face. “What?” She hadn’t anticipated that.
No, no, no!
Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut about micropropagation?
Because she’d hoped to bore them to death and convince them to let her go. Instead her plan had backfired. Now they would make her their captive and force her to clone marijuana.
“You do know how to clone plants, right?” Pink Eyes narrowed his gaze. “You weren’t lying about that? Because if you were, you might as well kiss your ass goodbye.”
“Yes, I can really do it.” She drew in a deep breath. “But I refuse. I’m a law-abiding citizen.”
“Not anymore you’re not. You’re my new expert botanist.”
Karen took another step back, her heart pounding. She cast a glance askance at Stoner where he stood beside her. Unspeaking. Why wouldn’t the man say anything? She wished he would speak up, that he’d defend her. But of course he didn’t. Maybe he was a mute. Maybe Pink Eyes had cut his tongue out.
“No.” Karen turned back to Pink Eyes. “You can’t make me.”
Pink Eyes pulled a pistol from his waistband and pointed it at her head.
Karen froze. She swallowed hard.
“You will if you want to live, Ms. Williams.”
Karen sucked in a breath. She stared down the barrel of the gun. I don’t want to die.
What the hell had she gotten herself into? Botanists weren’t supposed to have dangerous jobs.
Pink Eyes glanced at Stoner. “Bring her along. She’s your responsibility. This is your chance to prove yourself to the Cobras. Make her teach you how to do whatever needs to be done. Whatever supplies you need, let me know, and we’ll get them. Once you learn the ropes, we’ll get rid of her. And if she escapes, it’s on your head.”
He turned to the other men. “Let’s head out. Rebel, you and Grizzly get rid of the body.”
He strode off, leading the way back into the forest.
CHAPTER FOUR
Karen glared after the man with the eerie pink eyes as he strode into the trees. His testosterone-laced troop of leather-wearing groupies followed in his wake. She was more pissed than scared at the moment. How dare he threaten her with a gun! How dare he order her to clone pot! She wouldn’t do it and they couldn’t make her.
Oh yes they can. They have guns. They’re murderers. Do you want to be next?
Stoner cleared his throat next to her. Karen spun to face him. He stepped back and motioned for her to follow the group.
She stood her ground, glaring up at him.
“I’m not going with you. I refuse. I’m a law-abiding citizen. And why don’t you take that damn hood off your head so I can see your—”
He bent, scooped her up, and tossed her over his shoulder before she finished speaking.
She let out a startled, “ooof,” then pounded at his backside. “Let me go, you son-of-a-bitch! I said I wasn’t going with you! Let me down! I said let me down!”
Ignoring her, unfazed by her struggles, Stoner continued on through the forest, carrying her as easily as if she weighed less than a sack of potatoes. Dangling over his shoulder, Karen found herself eyelevel with his lower back and just inches away from his ass.
His firm, tight ass that filled out his faded jeans to perfection. The man was nicely built, she had to give him that. Even if he was a criminal.
Lacing her fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, she held on while he marched through the trees, jostling her around, her stomach squishing uncomfortably into his hard shoulder. She was not a slave and wouldn’t be treated like one, damn him!
Karen lifted his leather vest and sank her teeth into the left side of his lower back, trying to bite him through his T-shirt.
He slammed to a halt and tossed her off. Karen didn’t have time to get her feet beneath her before she smacked onto the ground. She landed hard on her right hip, wincing at the sharp pain spiraling into her side.
Asshole. That hurt!
Stoner glared down at her, rubbing his back where she’d bit him.
Guffaws came from a few feet away. Karen glanced up as several of the bikers paused to snicker at Stoner, their eyes gleaming through the holes in their hoods.
“What’s the matter, Stoner? Can’t you control that tiny Indian woman?”
“Give her to me and I’ll show you how to handle her.”
“She ain’t no Indian. She looks Mex-i-can to me. A pretty little Se-nor-ita.”
Karen glared at the hooded bikers as they continued to tease and taunt. She was neither Indian nor Mexican, but she wasn’t about to explain her heritage to these idiots.
Ignoring the other bikers, Stoner crossed his arms over his wide chest and regarded her with that fierce gaze. “This is your last chance to come quietly
or I’ll have to tie you up.”
His voice was deep and rumbling, like thunder warning of an approaching storm. Karen shivered, but not with fear. Unexpected heat coiled in her loins. She sucked in a breath.
Dear God.
Call it a weakness. Call it stupidity.
But the man’s voice turned her on.
“He does speak,” she murmured, wanting to hear his deep voice again. Never before had she been turned on by a man’s voice like this.
She had to see his face. Had to see what kind of features came with that sexy voice.
Before Stoner realized her intent, Karen leapt to her feet and reached for the hood on his head. His hand snaked out, his fingers curling around her wrist, but she had the element of surprise and was faster. With a quick twist of her arm, she snatched the hood off his head before he could stop her.
He dropped her hand, anger flaring in his eyes.
She stared at his face.
Oh my.
He wasn’t good looking. Not really. He had a rugged, masculine face with scruffy, light brown beard stubble, and a slightly crooked nose. Shaggy, sandy-brown hair fell over his brow and settled against his neck in a sexy, Keith Urban-type style, except this man wasn’t nearly as pretty as the country singer. She’d always been a sucker for the shaggy look. She guessed him to be in his mid to late forties. Not much older than her.
Not good looking.
But definitely sexy.
Breathtaking.
Longing swirled in her lower abdomen again. God, he was hot.
Now she understood why he disturbed her so much. Her body had recognized a fierce pull toward him, an attraction she hadn’t been able to decipher before because she’d only seen his eyes.
Holy hell. She recognized what it was now.
She had no doubt he was a man’s man. He looked like he could brawl with the best.
Everything about him screamed “bad ass.”
Everything about Stoner screamed “danger.”
Her mouth went dry. She’d never met a man like him before. She had to admit a part of her wanted to try to tame the wildness out of him.
His nostrils flared as he glared down at her. Uh oh. He was pissed. His greenish-blue eyes darkened with fury. He was a fierce mountain lion ready to attack. And she was his prey.
A tiny shiver of fear lanced through her. Would he hurt her now?
“Why did you have to do that?” His words were clipped, his deep voice floating over her like a tumultuous thundercloud. “Now I have no choice but to tie you up.” He yanked a plastic zip tie from the pocket of his leather vest.
Karen’s heart skidded to a halt. She scrambled backward. Shit, why did she always have to be so reckless and impulsive? Of course he was pissed. She’d unmasked him. And he’d been involved in a murder she’d witnessed.
She swallowed hard and stared up into his craggy face.
At least he wasn’t holding a gun on her.
Not that he needed a gun to hurt her. Those powerful-looking hands could do a lot of damage on their own.
He advanced toward her.
Karen was vaguely aware of the hoots and hollers from the other bikers as they egged Stoner on, but she was so concentrated on Stoner’s every move that she tuned them all out and focused only on him.
On the way his eyes narrowed with purpose.
On the slow rise and fall of his powerful chest.
On the strength in those muscular arms as he yanked on the zip tie, pulling it tight between his fists.
Her gaze never left his.
“Please. I’m sorry. I just wanted to see your face.”
He let out a snort. “It’s not a pretty face, now is it?”
“No, it’s an…interesting face. It’s…” Breathtaking.
He moved swiftly, bending down to snag her wrist. Karen gasped. She pulled back, trying to jerk free, but he was too strong.
“Please don’t. I have claustrophobia. If you tie me up, I’ll go insane.”
“You should have thought of that before you decided to yank off my hood.” He grabbed her other wrist. Holding her hands together, he wrapped the zip tie around her wrists. He tightened the zip tie, securing her arms together.
“You always carry zip ties with you?” Her voice shook with the fear she was unable to hide. “Why? So you can kidnap innocent people and tie them up?”
He ignored her.
Karen held her breath while he stepped back and eyed her for a long moment.
She remained sitting on the ground and glared up at him. Her hands were secured. But he hadn’t hurt her. Not really.
And that was a great relief.
He could have slapped her around or punched her or choked her or something.
He hadn’t. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as he looked.
But she really did have claustrophobia and she tried hard not to focus on the fact her hands were bound together in front of her.
Breathe, Karen. Don’t think about it.
“Finally got her under control?” Pink Eyes sneered, peering down at her from Stoner’s left.
Karen tried to fight back the claustrophobia, her breaths coming in quick pants. She glanced up at the group’s leader and sent him her nastiest glare.
He chuckled and headed off into the trees. “Come on. Let’s get a move on. It will be dark soon, and we don’t want to be caught out in the forest after dark.”
“Why not?” Karen shouted after him. “You biker boys only tough out on the streets, but you’re scared of the night animals?”
Stoner’s lips twitched. If Karen didn’t know better, she’d think he was amused.
Pink Eyes spun around. He grabbed her bound wrists and hauled her to her feet so fast she gasped.
“Too bad you yanked off Stoner’s hood, Ms. Williams. If you were smart, you’d have left it alone. I was thinking about letting you go when we were done with you. But now we’re going to have to kill you. Now move!” He shoved her.
Karen stumbled forward, her heart pounding. She pulled at the bonds, even though it was useless. Desperately trying to ignore the claustrophobia that was clawing its way loose, she contemplated her situation.
Her impetuous actions had always been her downfall. Because of her actions, she’d lost her husband and daughter years ago. She was still trying to make amends with her daughter.
Because of her actions, she’d yanked off a stranger’s hood so she could see his face. If she’d been smart, she would have left Stoner’s hood alone. Now she knew what he looked like. Of course they wouldn’t let her live now.
But Karen had never been one to go down without a fight. She glared at Pink Eyes’s back as he trudged through the trees ahead of her. Stoner took up the rear, following behind her. The other men fell into step around them, though a few of them had disappeared, she presumed to “remove the body.”
Pink Eyes still carried her backpack. Her cellphone was in her pack. If she could get to it somehow, she could call 911.
Her samples would be ruined if she didn’t get them back to the lab soon. All day she’d spent out in the forest searching and collecting would have been for nothing.
“I need to get my samples to the lab before they get ruined.” She came to a halt. “Please.”
“Keep moving.” Stoner gave her a gentle shove. “You don’t want to piss Viper off any more than you already have.”
“Viper? Is that his name?” She turned to glare up at Stoner. “I can see why. He’s a murderer. He just shot a man in cold blood.”
“You don’t know anything about it. So keep quiet. And move.” He gave her another shove, this one not as gentle as before.
Karen stumbled forward, seething. She vowed she would find a way out of this mess. She pulled at her wrists again, then focused on her interactions with Stoner to help keep her claustrophobia at bay.
Several minutes later they came out of the woods and onto a gravel road where a bunch of mean-looking motorcycles were parked. Karen stared as all the biker
s removed their hoods. They obviously no longer cared if she saw their faces. Which meant they planned to kill her in the end.
Not if she could help it.
She glanced around at the faces that had been revealed. They were an interesting group, to say the least. They ranged in age from early twenties to one old guy with a long gray beard and a braid that trailed down his back. She guessed he had to be at least seventy. Some were clean cut, others scruffy or bearded. All different hair colors. Some had short hair, others long, and still others no hair at all. But one distinction she didn’t miss out on: all were Caucasian. Coincidence? Or was something else going on here?
Viper was the most frightening of the group. His skin was so pale it was nearly translucent. As she stared, it occurred to her he was a true albino, which explained his strange pinkish eyes. Viper’s head was shaved bald and he sported a serpent-like tattoo that vined up his neck, around the left side of his face, and down between his eyes. He stood too far away for her to get a good look at the tattoo, but even at this distance, the man’s appearance was frightening. In addition to the creepy tattoo, various piercings lined his ears, nose, lips…
She guessed him to be in his mid to late forties.
As if he sensed her studying him, Viper swung that frosty pink gaze to her.
“Cover her eyes,” he barked, glancing at Stoner. “We don’t want her to know the way to the compound.” He turned away, mounting a streamlined black and red beast with a detailed snakeskin design that Karen assumed was a Harley, though she knew nothing about motorcycles.
Stoner paused before an ugly, ancient-looking motorcycle. Karen choked out a laugh. “Are you serious? That’s your bike? Why does everyone else have shiny new bikes but yours looks like it came out of a junkyard?”
One of the bikers snickered behind her.
Stoner motioned to the bike. “I’m restoring it. Now get on.”
Karen tilted her head back and glared up at him. “No.”
Stoner yanked a hood over her head with the eyeholes facing the back. Darkness surrounded her. She tried to yank the hood off, but strong hands gripped her bound wrists and held them still.
“Don’t fight, Karen.” Stoner’s voice rumbled near her right ear. “You’ll only make it harder on yourself.”
Stoned (Unlikely Heroes Book 4) Page 2
