by Amy Law
He came towards her with his kerchief. “We’re taking you out of here,” the hell you are, she thought, “I just need to put this on you,” and he tied the red and white bandana over her eyes, “One last time.”
The words echoed in her head, One. Last. Time. Tiffany braced herself. A cellphone chirped in Mace’s pocket. He sniffed as he took it out. He said, “Yo,” into the phone as he strode out of the room and closed the door behind him.
Tiff sat, blindfolded and breathing heavily. A few moments later she heard Mace’s voice raised in the adjacent room. “That was Cracker. He thinks we may be blown.”
‘Jax’s voice, “I told you we should have cleared out last night.”
“And I told you we should have cleaned up.”
“That’s NOT GOING TO HAPPEN.”
She smelled smoke.
She scrambled and waved her hands under the bed as she searched for the pizza box. From the next room she heard the outer door slam. A voice she didn’t know, “We got to haul out of here, bro, right now. The PD are headed straight this way.”
‘Jax’, “How the fuck…?”
Then Mace, “That’ll have to be for later. We got to move. Get the van, I’ll take care of the package.”
The sound of the door handle was followed by boots, stomping towards her. Tiff tried hard not to flinch. Then she heard Mace, close by, “What, bro? WHAT? The kerchief? She’s blindfolded, dumbass.”
Another pair of boots entered the room. Mace, again, “Oh, oh, now what, because I’m talking? She aint going to recognize my goddamn voice. And if that’s what you’re afraid of, we ought to do like I said all along.”
Click. She felt the press of metal to side of her head. Another click.
Mace’s voice, “Oh, you pull a goddamn piece on me now? You point your weapon at your bro, to save some rich trash gash?”
‘Jax’s’ voice was near, too, and firm, “I told you. She gets killed, we’re all accessories. You make me an accessory, you won’t be alive to see my trial. Bro.”
“Look now she heard your voice, too. Come on man, let’s get her done.”
“There’s something you haven’t told me, bro. I can sniff it. I can feel it.”
“Look, I’m just saying.” Mace’s voice was losing it’s certainty.
“And I’m saying, give me one more reason to squeeze this goddamn trigger. Bro.”
“Maybe she can ID the club is all I’m saying.”
“Don’t matter what the crime is, they still aint going to put anyone on the stand for wearing colors. Bro.”
“No, but she’s…” click
“One. More. Reason. Mace.”
Tiff still shook as the ring of cold metal came away from her temple. Mace sounded almost sulky. “Okay. This is for later. You and me. For now, let’s just get in the goddamn van and get gone.”
His footsteps crossed the room away from her, then they stopped. “Man, the goddamned bed’s on fire!”
“Just get down to the van Mace. Take what you can and I’ll be right there.”
“You’re losing it, bro.” She heard Mace’s voice moving away, “Whatever she gave you, it’s turned your head around.”
‘Jax’ yanked off the blindfold. He stood over her, his eyes blazing and a gun in his hand. Acrid smoke was starting to fill the room. He shouted at her and she flinched, “Bring your jacket.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled.
“Bring your jacket,” he said again. Moving ahead of him, she found it on the back of a chair in the outer room. As she struggled into it he shoved her through the door and towards a dark flight of stairs.
As she stumbled down the steps, smoke was starting to billow lazy and thick down the stairwell. It pursued them down.
At the bottom they come out into a big showroom, empty and dusty. There was one long wall had a wide open roller shutter door. A black van revved outside in a wide parking lot.
The other long wall had paper taped over floor to ceiling windows. At the far end of the room was a motorcycle.
As Mace bundled into the van, cop sirens were whooping and whining closer. The van ground into gear and lurched forward.
She heard ‘Jax’ mutter, “Asshole,” under his breath as the van made for the gap in the low wall. There was a thud from within the van and a screech as metal ground against stone.
The van stopped, the door creaked and was wrenched open. A bundle fell from the door and the van started up again. With more wrenches of metal and stone it was gone. By now, red and blue lights flashed across the lot.
‘Jax’ dragged her by the collar of her jacket and shoved a helmet at her. “Quick,” he said, climbing on to the bike. As she clambered on behind him he said, “Put your head down into my back and hold on tight.”
The bike engine juddered and pounded beneath her and she curled herself as tight as she could into the thick leather on his back. The sirens were right outside, red and blue splashed across the room as brakes squealed and car doors clunked.
The bike bucked and leapt forward. Tiff held on and watched the paper peel away in slo-mo, bright sunlight shot through the huge glass ahead. A spider’s web spread and radiated from the center of the glass and jagged shards rained down on her as the cycle bumped through the frame, onto and over the sidewalk and bounced into the sun-scorched street.
Tiff’s arm felt a cold wind and some wetness. Why had her instinct been to follow the biker, to cling to her kidnapper, to run away from the cops and not towards them?
The bike was low and fast. As they passed the first intersection, Tiff saw the black van, on the street parallel and peeling away. The lights and noise of the sirens followed it.
The came towards her as the bike leaned over to the left, then picked up at speed. They were headed for the mall. They were in Summerlin. She’d been in Summerlin all this time.
A police siren wailed behind them and a helicopter rose and chopped the air as it loomed like an ugly insect. Weaving nimbly around the pay barriers, the bike steered into the multi-level car-park.
Tiff had lost her Mini in here enough times, she knew what a labyrinth it was. More than a dozen levels and who knew how many exits. That’s his plan, she realized. He’s going to be out of here before the cops can cover the exits.
Has he planned this, she wondered, or is he really that good?
He made straight for one of the far exits, shimmied around the barrier and cut into the downtown traffic. The helicopter buzzed over the mall, looking in all the wrong directions.
The bike slowed and blended with the traffic and stayed on the highway until they peeled off to the Regional Justice Center and courthouse complex. He stopped the bike in the shade and climbed off.
“This is your stop.”
She could step right off and onto the sidewalk. She stayed on the bike seat. “Take me with you.”
“Now I know you’re crazy. Come on, your Daddy’s probably in there somewhere. Go find him.”
“You really don’t know anything about my Daddy, do you? He isn’t at a desk waiting for a phone call. If he wasn’t in one of the leading cop cars, he’ll be in that chopper you left behind.”
“Then he’ll come and find you.”
“Take me with you.”
“Why?”
It was hard for her to answer, so she just told him the truth. “I don’t know why. It’s what I want is why.”
She didn’t even know his name. Tiffany wondered if that was a part of what made her want him, need him so very badly. Looking at him made her ache.
Chapter 14
The dark, velvet blue sky was thick with splashes of tiny stars. Faraway clouds drifted across the high, bright moon. He guided the big bike around long sweeps of road, up and over rocky hills and out onto a high plain. He parked up by a ridge.
She sensed that he wanted to talk. As did she. There were things that she needed to have said, things she needed to know. And some things that she wanted to hear. But not yet.
She watched his eyes flicker in the twilight. He took her face in his hands and he looked in her eyes a long time. She opened her arms and reached for him. He gathered her up to him, brought her face to his. Their lips took nips and tastes of each other, both holding back, both straining.
Her mouth opened to him. His tongue met hers and mingled. Their heat melted and melded them together.
His chest muscles and biceps vibrated and buzzed. Her breath shook. As he pressed into her, her foot slipped on the dirt and her eyes widened. In that moment, she was even more in his power than she had been locked in the room. There was no-one here. No-one for miles. Only him. And her.
She bit her lip and sighed as he pushed her to the floor. She wanted to be lost in him, swept away, she wanted everything obliterated. Here in the hot, dry desert breeze was perfect.
“Make it all go away,” she whispered. His strong arm held her down, pressed between her breasts, reaching up to her throat.
“Only protect me,” her voice trembled.
He seized her. He pulled off her clothes and he opened her.
He breathed her, tasted her. His hair brushed the soft skin inside her thighs. He ate greedily between her quivering lips and folds and up to the base of her stalk. His tongue flicked, vibrated and buzzed. He made her hips writhe and thrash, and he held her down.
He pushed and drove the flow of her rhythm. He licked and sucked and forced his long, sensual, muscular tongue up into her walls to push and press high inside at the front. Currents thrashed and beat within her, jagged splinters of lightning that sparked and spread out in unbearably delicious spasms.
Her back stretched and her feet stamped. He was pitiless. His strong lips, tenderly took her inside and out, rocked, rode and ravished her. At last he pressed and sucked her into a deep, hard, slowing beat. She crushed his head between her thighs, she crested and cried and felt herself gush into his waiting lips.
She quivered and shook into his mouth and her body thrummed.
Then he lifted her hips and his huge shaft drove into her, stretched her and filled her. Her soft, wet flesh was dragged apart around his hard, beating rod. On his knees, he held her hips up and her head thrashed from side to side. Her mouth opened as she watched the glistening skin tense over his terrifyingly perfect body.
Watched as his body rolled in rhythm, as his hips snaked and his muscles rippled, watched his stomach clench and his neck thicken. Her own body furled and flowed, the force following faster and finding her currents crash, brim, burble and burst into torrents of wave after wave, crashing, splashing, exploding from the powerful shaking in her core to the wild clench of her fingers and the cramping crunch of her toes.
She watched his brow knot while as his rhythm overtook him and he pulsed unbearably hard inside her. Her eyes watered and her mouth opened wet and wordless as his hot bolts beat and fountained into her, through her and filled her.
Epilog
For a long time they didn’t speak.
She had never known anything like it, felt anything like it or even considered wanting anything like it. The desert was the perfect place. And this man, this biker was the perfect man.
She was lost between crying inside for how shocked and horrified she was and weeping for how childishly complete it had made her feel. She wasn’t sure that she could ever live a day in her life without it.
His eyes narrowed and he chewed his lip as he looked into her face. “Okay. I’m going to send a text ahead.” She smiled to see that he pulled out an iPhone, out-of-date, just like hers. Identical, only his was black, of course, and her was white. Naturally.
They dressed and he climbed back onto the bike and fired up the engine again. As she climbed on behind him she asked him his name, unsure if she really wanted to know. But she didn’t hear his answer as the machine sprang forward beneath her.
She hung on tight behind him and put her arms around his strong body, felt him swing and sway the heavy two-wheeled beast, something tugged at the corner of her mind. She’d probably never see her own iPhone again.
They were headed across the red and brown desert plain when the thoughts came together for her. On that first day, in the warehouse, when he called her Daddy, how had he been able to use her iPhone? How had he got by her passcode?
This third part will be available soon.
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The Bad Sister
(Excerpt)
On the screen, his hand twisted in her long, blonde hair and pulled her head back, hard. Her back bent as she reared up and moaned. Her buttocks rippled and shook as the big biker plowed into her from behind. The veins on his neck stood out and his skin reddened.
His teeth clenched as his hips rode his rail deep into her. Her tight shut eyes and widening mouth displayed the raw sensations that tore through her. Her big round breasts swelled as her chest and neck flushed red.
Showing him the video on the iPad, she nuzzled his shoulder and said, "You look pretty fine there, lover."
His voice was thick and dark. "You always make souvenirs like this? This could bring you a whole world of trouble if your buddies back at the Bureau saw it."
"Maybe I should play you the audio that I have to go with it. It's got you cutting a deal, telling me all about how you're going to rat on the both the Red Skulls AND the Blades."
"I didn't tell you any of that."
"Modern software, it's almost like magic, isn't it?"
"Your scheming, treacherous mind never ceases to amaze me."
"Funny you didn't fight off my scheming, treacherous body."
"Do you honestly that think this is somehow going to make up for what happened to the judge's daughters?"
"No, lover, but what you're going to do for me will be a start.”
