by Brook Wilder
But Daniel, he wasn’t a Rough Jester. He wasn’t even a biker and I wasn’t quite sure what to do with him.
I pulled the bike in front of the farmhouse and cut the engine, waiting until Daniel had done the same before climbing off. He grabbed the weapons that were going to be our saving grace, falling into step next to me as we climbed the stairs to the front door. “Good job back there,” I offered as I pushed open the door. “We got exactly what we wanted.”
“Thanks for letting me lead,” he answered, stepping inside and shutting it behind us. I watched as he engaged the ancient deadbolt, pulling a chair over to prop it under the doorknob before it looked like he was satisfied.
I knew why. We couldn’t trust anyone out here, especially now that they knew what we had with us. Others had been killed for less.
I turned into the first room, finding a set of cots and a coffee station set up. It wasn’t anything impressive, but at least we would be able to get a couple hours of sleep before the fun would truly begin.
Daniel walked in and set the duffel bag on the floor before walking over to the coffee pot, barely able to be seen in the dying sunlight. “Coffee?”
I rubbed my hands together. “Please.”
While Daniel started the coffee, I found an electric lantern near one of the cots, turning it on to allow for some light in the room. The light bounced off the multiple windows and I shuddered, wondering who was watching us tonight.
I doubted they trusted us to leave us without being monitored tonight.
Still, I divested myself of my vest and guns, laying them on the cot so that I could reach them if I needed to in a hurry.
I turned back to find Daniel watching me, his eyes full of intensity. “You nervous?”
I nodded. “A little.”
“Me too,” he admitted, the smell of coffee filling the air. “I don’t like this. It’s too easy.”
I glanced at the guns I had just removed. “We will be ready if they try anything.” I would go down fighting if need be.
Daniel removed the coffee pot and poured two steaming cups, handing one to me. I took a couple of deep swallows of the thick black liquid. Normally I liked creamer and sugar in mine, but given the circumstances, I wasn’t about to be picky.
“Did you really follow me around for two months?”
Surprised, I looked at Daniel. “You know I did.”
“That takes some dedication,” Daniel said, shaking his head. “I’m sure you had better things to do.”
“It was my assignment,” I stated.
Daniel set his cup down on the small table, ruffling his hair with his hand. “You know, I didn’t want to do what I did.”
“Then why did you?”
“Hell, I don’t know,” he sighed, removing his vest and his shoulder holster. “I was getting pushed to end this small war with the new cartel. Killing their commanders sounded like a good idea and since I couldn’t put the government in that position, I had to find someone who was willing to go into the fray.”
It was probably the most honest confession I had ever heard. He had been caught between a rock and a hard place and Machine Gun had always been the type with a death wish. He would have been easy pickings for anyone. “Would you have ever turned us in?” I didn’t want to ask him that question, but I needed to know.
To my surprise, Daniel shook his head. “Nah. Filling out all that paperwork would have been a bitch.”
I laughed and he grinned, the tension easing off between us. In another time, in another world even, we might have been attracted to each other rather than being forced together like this. He had an easy-going personality about him, and I enjoyed his company.
Oh God, I enjoyed his company.
The man I was supposed to kill in a matter of days.
“What’s wrong, Eileen?” he asked softly, his voice penetrating my thoughts.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Nothing.” I couldn’t tell him. I didn’t want him to look at me as the person that would put a bullet in his brain at the end of all this. I didn’t want him to even see me as a member of the Bitches.
I wanted him to see me as Eileen Shanks, a girl who had grown up with a big dream and ended up finding herself here.
“You know,” Daniel continued after a moment as I wrestled with my internal feelings. “There was one time during your trailing that I nearly confronted you.”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t,” I answered. “Or I would have been forced to kill you.”
He chuckled. “It was that night at that dive bar outside of Lincoln. You looked so alone sitting in the back like that and I nearly picked up my drink and joined you.”
I remembered the night Daniel was talking about. I had been lonely, missing the club and hating the fact I was watching a man enjoy himself who clearly had no problems making friends. It had made me wish that I could be that carefree again, not worrying about who was watching me. There were times I thought that the vest put an immediate target on my back, so much so that I didn’t wear it outside of Castillo unless I was on club business.
Some would call me a coward, but I much preferred being alive to being dead. “Maybe in another time, I would have enjoyed your company.”
His smile was slow this time and I felt the flutters in my stomach as my body warmed from head to toe. “Maybe I would have felt the same.”
Oh God. I couldn’t, this couldn’t be happening. I turned, not wanting Daniel to see the rosy blush of my cheeks and the effect he had on me. Even though this mission had evolved into something completely different, the end was still the same.
I still had to kill him.
“I guess we should get some sleep,” Daniel was saying as he balled up his cup and threw it on the table. “I would kill for the sound of a TV right about now. Don’t they know it’s football season?”
I couldn’t help but agree. “At least they gave us blankets.” The house was growing chilly, the wind whistling through the numerous cracks in the windowpanes. My thin long-sleeved shirt wasn’t going to be much warmth without the blanket.
“Turn down the light, Eileen.”
Gah, I loved the way he said my name. I did as he asked, plunging us into darkness with only the faint glow of the moon outside peering through the windows. I toed off my boots and climbed onto the cot, watching as Daniel did the same, choosing the same as me to leave his clothes on.
Pity.
He sighed, stretching out on his back, his hands behind his head. “No matter what cot I sleep in, it’s all the same. Itchy, small, and loud.”
“You’ve done this before?” I asked lightly, wanting to find out more about him. Heaven help me. I wanted to know more.
“In the military,” he stated, his voice soft. “It was either that or the sand under us. After the first few scorpions crawl over you, you choose the cot.”
He was in the military. I didn’t know that. “I’ve only slept in them at camp when I was younger,” I offered up, tucking my hand under my head. “My mom sent me to camp every summer so she could work extra. She is a teacher.”
“And you didn’t want to follow in her footsteps?” he asked, his voice faint.
“I did,” I admitted, emotion welling up in my throat. “My younger sister was kidnapped by the cartel when I was sixteen.” She was snatched just like this girl had been, walking home from school. For the longest time, I blamed myself for not walking home with her, but I had softball practice that day and couldn’t be there. My parents had been beside themselves with worry and when they found her body, we had struggled as a family for two years. Unable to deal with it any longer, I had left home and joined the club nearly immediately.
I still tried to see them around the holidays, but it wasn’t the same. How they had gotten through it was beyond me. I was still struggling.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
I sighed. “I know, but thanks anyway. It was a long time ago.” That was the reason I needed to find this girl safe
and sound. If we lost her, it would be like losing my sister all over again.
Chapter 11
Voodoo
The next morning came all too quickly. I stood by the window as the sun peeked over the horizon, feeling like I had been run over by a train. The cot had brought back too many memories for me, so I had abandoned sleep altogether, content in watching Eileen as she slumbered and keeping watch. Her confession last night had touched me in ways I hadn’t imagined. Now I understood her drive to find this girl and because of that, I wanted to find her alive.
I wanted Eileen to feel as if she had accomplished her mission and give her some retribution for her sister’s death as well.
It seemed we all had our demons we fought internally.
My demons were a bit darker than hers, stemming from my military days. The reason I had moved from military police to the CIA was that my entire guard had been killed in action, wiped out in the youth of their lives.
I had survived only because I had been sick that day, unable to get my ass off my cot before they had ridden out on patrol. I could still remember the emptiness of the tent we had shared, all eight of us, that night, the tears that had streamed down my cheeks unchecked as the sergeant had told me the news. I had been sent home to mourn, representing the group at each funeral and presenting that folded flag over and over again on behalf of the U.S. government.
After the last funeral was done, I had turned in my papers. They hadn’t accepted them, of course, but had transferred me to train at the CIA facility and I hadn’t stopped since.
But the weight of losing my fellow brothers was still there, just like nearly getting Machine Gun killed. It wasn’t going to disappear just like that. No matter how much I tried to atone for both blips in my life, I never truly lived up to it.
And I wouldn’t have Eileen’s death as a black mark on my soul either.
She made a sound in her sleep and I glanced at her, wondering what the hell I was doing here. Eileen had been sent to kill me, yet I was sharing a room with her, keeping her as safe as I could. If I had any wits about me, I would be on my bike, riding out of her life and away from danger.
Instead, I couldn’t find it in my soul to walk away. Even with the end looming near, I still wanted to see it through.
I had never been told I was a smart guy to begin with. Eileen was the first person in a long, long time that I had found myself caring for. I shouldn’t; it was going to be the death of me if I kept this up, but I didn’t care. Just once in my life I wanted to be with someone I could care about, even if I could never tell her.
Besides, if I did, that would only complicate things for her and that was the last thing I wanted to do. She had a monumental task ahead of her, though whether she was going to follow through with it or not was still in the air.
I hoped not, for my sake. After this was over with, I would be fleeing to somewhere warm to live out the remainder of my days.
I just hoped it wasn’t hell she was going to send me to.
There was only one way to find out, I guessed.
So, I donned my guns and my vest, making as much noise as I could to wake her. The coffee was brewing again when Eileen finally awoke, stretching before sitting up on her cot. “That was the worst sleep I’ve had in a while.”
“Tell me about it,” I answered as she stood and replaced her guns and her vest. “Coffee will be ready in a second. There’s a bathroom right down the hall if you need it.”
“Thanks,” she said, walking out of the room. I listened to her boots on the hardwood floor and sighed, wondering what would happen today. If this hot cargo was truly the girl we were looking for, then I could possibly be looking at the last few hours of my life.
If not, then I would have some additional time with Eileen until she decided enough was enough and did it anyway.
I wasn’t ready.
Eileen returned after a few moments and I handed her the coffee that I had brewed. “Thanks,” she said, taking a sip. “This is the worst coffee I have ever had.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad, but it’s probably breakfast, lunch, and dinner so drink up.”
“I would give my gun for a big steak and some eggs right now,” she sighed, taking another fortifying sip of the coffee.
“Or at least a decent cup of coffee,” I answered, grimacing as I took a sip of mine.
“That is true,” Eileen admitted, putting her cup down. “That’s enough of that.”
I did the same and we stared at each other, trying to find the next conversation. “I want to thank you,” she said after a moment. “For doing this.”
“There’s no need for thanks,” I stated, desperately wanting to touch her. Would she push me away if I pulled her into my arms? I wanted, just once, to feel her in my arms willingly.
“Either way,” Eileen said softly. “Thank you. You are still here and that counts for something.”
I took a step closer, my heart hammering in my chest. Damn, I needed to touch her just once.
She cleared her throat and broke the connection between us first, moving some distance away. “I guess we need to go.”
“Yeah,” I said, moving away. This was stupid. I couldn’t have her.
I never could.
***
It was nearly 10:00 before a van pulled up to the transfer point. I placed my hand on my gun as the door to the driver’s side opened and a man stepped out, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses. Eileen stood next to me, her own gun in her hand at her side, waiting for the moment that we might need to use them. We hadn’t really discussed any sort of plan, but to go in guns blazing seemed like the only one that was appropriate. The driver of the van slid the side door open and pulled out the girl we had been looking for, tied and gagged. Eileen made a sound as the girl was forced to stand, glaring defiantly at her kidnapper as she did so.
That gumption was probably why she was still alive. Other than looking dirty and ruffled, I couldn’t see any outward signs of injury.
“There’s the hot cargo,” the dealer that we dealt with yesterday said, his thumbs hooked into the belt loops on his pants. He looked pleased with himself at having provided what he had told us he would. No doubt he was already thinking about the weapons in the duffel bag. “Do we have a deal?”
“We have a deal,” Eileen stated as they started our way. I could tell that she was barely keeping it together and I tried to send her some strength to keep it together just a little bit longer. We were so close to having this tied up.
Suddenly the other door opened, and a man walked around the front of the van, causing me to swear. It was Polanco. “Well, well, Marcus,” Polanco called out. “I didn’t peg you as a man who worked with the feds.”
Marcus’ face glazed over in confusion and I motioned with a slight nod for Eileen to go after the girl before turning my attention to Polanco. “You are a hard man to find.”
“And you are a hard man to kill,” Polanco shot back, drawing his gun. “But maybe today I might get lucky.”
Eileen lunged forward as Polanco fired in my direction, causing me to scramble to avoid being stung by the bullet. It caught the man holding the girl in the arm and he released her, giving Eileen precious seconds to snatch her up and take cover at the back of the van.
Polanco took cover behind the front and swore. From my vantage point, I couldn’t get a clean shot. “Why don’t you come out here and shoot me yourself?” I called out, hoping to bait him.
Marcus, meanwhile, had been hit and was lying on the ground, his eyes blinking rapidly as blood spread across the front of his white shirt. I didn’t know where his men were today, but apparently, he had trusted us enough not to call them up.
Too bad for him.
“Ah, Voodoo, it’s good to hear your voice again. I was getting worried that you had been offed by the club.”
“Not a chance,” I answered, motioning for Eileen to make a run for the bikes. If she could get to hers, then she could get the girl out of h
ere. She shook her head violently and I gritted my teeth, wishing for once that she would listen to me.
“Well then, I guess your day is about to get much worse my friend,” Polanco called out as Eileen inched herself and the girl away from the van and took cover behind a tree.
I started toward the van, crouching low to the ground as Polanco fired at me from behind the van. It wasn’t until it was too late that I realized Polanco’s goon had recovered from the bullet I had put in his arm and was in the driver’s seat of the van, ducking as he threw the van into drive. Polanco clambered in as I fired two shots into the door, hoping I could hit the driver and stop the fleeing, but they peeled out, careening down the road and out of my firing range.
