Damn she really needed to get the back driveway cleared. Echo swore under her breath. Having to park a block away sucked when your arms were full of paint cans and supplies.
Echo struggled with her purchases from the hardware store. She glanced over her shoulder, making sure Kat was behind her. The last thing she needed would be her curious little girl roaming off before getting home. Turning her attention back to where she was walking, Echo caught a glimpse of a man, a man she knew. Well, one she had known years ago. She knew the moment he saw her by the change in his expression. Echo wasn’t sure if it was surprise so much as confusion.
The bag slipped as she struggled for balance. Just the sight of him made her heart pound in her chest. His eyes locked on hers as she waited, watching him get off his Harley. He stood for what seemed like an eternity, just staring at her. Echo hefted up the bags she was holding, still waiting, hoping he would walk across the street.
“Mommy.”
The quiet sound of her daughter’s voice grabbed her attention, pulling away her gaze. When Echo looked back across the street, Tabor was gone. It had been six years. What man, especially one like Stephan Demidov, would waste time on a woman he had left behind years ago? Shaking her head, Echo turned and told Kat to follow her upstairs. She could deal with this. It wasn’t like she had waited for him to return, not after she stood in that driveway, an ultrasound picture burning a hole in her back pocket. Hours she had waited, until the cold air had seeped through her thin jacket causing her to shiver.
The lights had stayed on for days. Fear of him thinking she wouldn’t be waiting had been almost crippling, until concern for her health and that of her unborn baby made her get a grip. She had stayed in that house for months, until she finally left to stay with her grandmother in upstate New York.
He never came back, Echo reminded herself, he didn’t want her then and he didn’t want her now, it was easy as that. With a heavy heart she climbed the stairs, closing the door to the outside world. Maybe that wasn’t him.
***
Tabor had barely backed in his bike when movement across the street caught his eye. A young girl skipped along the sidewalk following her mother. Tabor got off the bike, trying to get a better look at the woman’s face. Her eyes locked on his as she turned her head back. No fucking way, the woman couldn’t be Echo.
“Tabor, let’s go man.”
Turning, he followed Cruise into the clubhouse. They needed to call Gypsy to update him. He would get more information on the woman later and figure out if it was indeed Echo. For now, he had business to deal with. Standing in the clubhouse office, he half-ass listened to Cruise and Gypsy talk about the COC meet. As the two men spoke, Tabor thought about the woman he saw walking across the street.
How in the hell could it be her? She died, he saw the ruined house, talked to the neighbors. He even went as far as finding the news article on the accident. The neighbors told him she was killed in the fire. If Echo hadn’t died in that inferno, that meant he deserted her. He had sworn he would come back for her… then again, it seemed she didn’t wait long for him to come back to get her.
Tabor had gone back. Yes it had been more than a year. Things had started heating up in their world and the Gypsy Kings had needed him. Gypsy had called him home. He had to obey. Hadn’t he? Shaking his head, Tabor headed for the bar in the clubhouse. If he was lucky, he’d be drunk within the hour.
Standing behind the bar, he grabbed the bottle and poured a full glass. He should march over there and ask her where the fuck she’d been and how fucking long had she been sleeping around on him to have a kid. A fucking kid, he repeated. But Tabor knew better than walking over there because when it came to Echo, he couldn’t think. For him their relationship was primal. It had always been that way, from the first kiss to the last.
“Tabor, meeting, remember?”
“Fiddler, can you do something for me?”
“Anything, brother.”
Tabor filled Fiddler in on the details, asking him to not tell any of the others about the favor. He just needed to know if the woman across the street could indeed be Echo.
Chapter 3
Sitting in the local coffee shop, Jason could watch the street. He sat thinking about how it had taken weeks—weeks—to find the bitch, and now he had to find a way to get close to her. He needed to find out who her friends were. If she had a boyfriend or family nearby, Jason needed to know that too. He watched from across the way as the two men he paid to harass her sat patiently against a car. He wanted to see who came running, if anyone. It was an easy ploy: hire a couple goons to give her hard time. How much they harassed her was completely up to her. Now he waited, but how long would he have to wait? Just then he saw her walking down the street. “Let’s see if you’re on your own, sweet cheeks.”
***
Echo and Katya walked back towards their apartment, taking in the people and places along the street. She loved the area. Kids played in parks, and older ladies shooed men on their way. Echo loved the names of the little shops. She had made progress in the apartment, but the problem was painting the walls—from floor to ceiling they stood eighteen feet. She needed a tall ladder so she could reach the top. She and Katya had walked down to the hardware store just to price them and to get out of the apartment.
As Echo walked along with her daughter, she suddenly found two men blocking her way. Pulling her daughter behind her, she tried to get past, but the two men just smiled, continuing to block her. She tried to step around them a second time, but they wouldn’t move. One of the men mumbled something. As Echo struggled to understand what he said, the other one attempted to grab her arm.
***
Tabor stood in front of the Gypsy Kings’ clubhouse, watching as Echo walked along the sidewalk with her daughter. It had been a few weeks since he recognized her, but his pride kept him from going to her. Fiddler dug into her supposed death and came back with information saying a twenty-one-year-old bartender had died in the fire after falling asleep with a cigarette.
There were so many unanswered questions, ones that could only be answered if he asked her. How many times had he thought about them… how did she survive the fire and who had died in her place? How fast did she move on after he left, or was she screwing someone else behind his back? The kid had to be six… damn her for showing up here of all places. Hearing a low whistle, he looked across the street.
Two men approached Echo, blocking her way. He saw the look on her face. A look of fear. She may not know it, but she still belonged to him. Moving toward the street, he signaled for Angel and Wick to flank the two men. Tabor moved quickly through the parking lot as they crossed behind the two strangers. At that moment, a puppy ran out from the alley, running through the little girl’s legs, darting out into the road. Echo’s daughter let go of her hand, running for the dog.
Just as she scooped up the puppy, a car turned the corner. Tabor bolted across the street as Echo screamed. He managed to grab both the child and the dog as he crashed to the ground, covering both of them with his body as the car came to a screeching halt mere inches away.
***
Echo had watched in horror as her daughter leapt from the curb for the puppy. She ran for her, as a man scooped Katya up along with the dog tumbling across the ground. The car skidded, sliding sideways, trying to avoid hitting the pile of flesh and fur. She stared down at the man holding her child to his chest. The gods were playing games with her again. Tabor lay on the ground at her feet, holding the daughter he didn’t know he had. Emotions overwhelmed her as he got up and handed Katya to her, all the while he held the puppy by the scruff of its neck, keeping it immobile.
“This yours also?” Tabor needed to know what to do about the dog. He wanted—no needed—to leave. He wanted nothing to do with Echo or her kid. He watched as she cradled her daughter tightly against her, shaking her head about the dog. Tabor abruptly turned, walking back across the street, taking the puppy with him.
Echo woul
dn’t cry over how quickly Tabor had turned away from them. God she was such a fool for thinking if she ever saw him again, he would want her or their child. Such a fool… He didn’t even know she was his, because he walked away instead of talking to her. Anger overtook the sadness. Walking past the arguing men, Echo hurried down the street, not caring what the two men had wanted that caused the situation in the first place. Taking one more look back, her eyes searched for Tabor, only to find he had disappeared from view. Damn him.
Tabor watched from the shadows as the only woman he ever loved hurried away carrying her daughter—a daughter he wished was his.
***
Watching the MC run to not only Echo’s, but her daughter’s, aid gave Jason an idea to get the Kings out of his way. If he took out one of their own, the Kings’ attention would be off his targets, leaving room for him to go in and grab them.
First, he needed to do some recon on the Kings, and then he could make a plan. How hard could it be to take one lone biker out of the way? The one that saved the kid would be his new target for now.
Chapter 4
Tabor made the latest run with Cruise, Wick, and Tool. It was a meet with another local club. They were being called in for a meet about their flying colors in another club’s territory. Tabor knew who was behind it. Seemed it was a last-ditch effort by Gypsy’s old flame, Velean, trying to get revenge. After Cruise had laid it all out, things had gone better than expected.
They dropped Cruise off at his place, in which afterwards he talked Wick and Tool into watching his back in Fort Bragg. His pent-up anger needed to vent. Wick was pissed but agreed to go along. Who knew what was eating at him? The man was always there when they needed him. He just never let any of his brothers in his life.
Underground fighting had gotten Tabor into hot water on more than one occasion with Gypsy. But he wasn’t in town. Hell, he wasn’t in the States.
Tabor had taken some serious hits and needed to lay down. The effects of the fighting were starting to hit him. He could definitely feel his hands swelling, a few ribs may even have been bruised, but nothing he hadn’t dealt with before. He waved off his brothers as they peeled off the highway, going home. A couple of S-turns and one long straight away and Tabor would be back home.
Two miles farther down the highway, he saw fast-approaching headlights in his mirror. He went on high alert, his gut tightening. He knew this wasn’t going to be a random vehicle. He hadn’t slighted anyone at the fights, every fight had been clean. Tabor couldn’t remember anyone being pissed about the outcomes. Wondering if it was the other club didn’t make sense either, they would have come after all four of them inside their territory.
Judging where he was on the highway, Tabor weighed his options. Better to find out of his gut was right or not about this car being a threat. He slowed down just enough to allow the oncoming vehicle to begin to catch up. He watched the car keep coming.
***
Echo stood staring out the back window, blowing over her teacup. She was tired from working on the apartment all day, but sleep evaded her. This area of the house would make a grand bedroom and sitting area. The only problem was she didn’t sleep much. Someone in the past had chopped up the space, making two small bedrooms and added closets that took up too much space. Tearing down the closets and walls would bring the space back to its original size and grandeur. Echo had pictures of how the building had looked when her great-grandparents lived there and had their bakery downstairs. It was her turn to make something of the building and give her daughter a great life.
In the distance she saw a single headlight, it wove from side to side. Setting her cup down, she watched as the automobile came into view as it slowed down. Echo realized it was a motorcycle. To her surprise, she watched the rider maneuver the bike through her back gate. The rider had to be seasoned to make that turn. He tucked the bike in behind the ivy-covered brick and iron fencing. Hiding… he was hiding, she thought.
She stepped back from the window when she saw a truck blast past her corner apartment building. As the sound of the truck became faint, Echo looked back out the window to see it was Tabor struggling to move his bike. She couldn’t peel herself away from the window. The sound of the truck coming back up the street had her running downstairs, tearing out the backdoor, racing to help Tabor, who now lay face down by an old shed.
Getting him to his feet was almost impossible, but Echo managed to pull him upright as the sound of the truck got closer. Scared of being seen, she begged him to help her. The two stumbled towards the backdoor of the building, mostly by her dragging Tabor as he hardly moved his feet. She barely had them ducking inside the alcove as the truck slowed down right at the gate opening. Echo struggled to keep Tabor upright against the alcove wall. “Help me, you son of a bitch,” she growled low. He could at least try and hold his drunk ass upright. He hung on to her, keeping her body tight to his. His warm breath caressed her neck as he moaned her name. She would not let her body react to the feel of his breath on her skin or the sound of her name on his lips. He had left her behind, this was no reconciliation.
When the truck pulled away, she opened the door and lights popped on as she managed to get Tabor inside. Echo didn’t concern herself with the lights, they would go out on their own once the movement ceased. Echo all but shoved Tabor up the stairs, thinking about how it felt having him in her arms. Stop it. Thinking about Tabor being drunk took her mind off his body. He never had been one to drink, and it seems he should have never started. “How much have you had to drink, Tabor?” He mumbled a response she couldn’t make out.
Once upstairs he tumbled to the floor, mumbling about angels. Looking down at him lying on her floor, Echo noticed the front of her nightshirt. It was covered in blood. Panicking, she rolled Tabor over and was horrified to see his shirt was soaked in blood. Echo moved fast through the apartment, grabbing a first aid kit from under her bathroom sink. On her way back through the hall, she snagged up her sewing kit from the closet. God only knew what she would have to deal with when she cut his shirt off his body. What had he gotten into?
Coming back into the kitchen, she saw him struggling with his phone. She got down on her knees and fumbled for the phone as he said, “Angel,” again before passing out. Opening the call log, she saw a name: Angel. She hit redial and waited for a woman to answer. When a man’s voice came across the line she was stunned. Quickly recovering… “Hello, this is Echo. Tabor’s hurt.”
“Where are you?”
“My apartment. Across from the clubhouse. Please, hurry.”
“On our way.”
Echo heard the phone go silent. Tossing it aside, she started removing his shirt. She sucked in her breath when she saw the wound in Tabor’s side. Poking around it, she could see it wasn’t all the way through the muscles, but the bleeding didn’t seem to be letting up. She irrigated the wound with a bottle of water, trying to clear any debris. Her attempt to close the wound was in vain. His hand slapped at hers as he fumbled for consciousness. “I’m just cleaning the wound; help is on its way.”
“Echo?”
“I’m here, I swear I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Echo wiped tears away when Tabor gently brushed her face. “So beautiful,” he murmured before closing his eyes.
“Please, please be okay.” She couldn’t care less if he didn’t love her anymore, she still loved him and wanted him to survive. Sending up a silent prayer to anyone listening, she kept working on his wounds.
Packing the wound seemed the only hope in slowing down the bleeding. Grabbing the gauze, she did so with ease, praying the whole time he wouldn’t bleed to death on her kitchen floor. Holding a towel against the wound, Echo looked over his body with both appreciation and despair. “Please hurry,” she muttered. Bruising from a hefty beating was starting to show on his body. Noticing lacerations on Tabor’s hands led her to one conclusion: underground fighting. He had always been into it hard-core when they had been together. But these injuri
es were a whole other level than before. Her thoughts came back around to the truck hunting him. Something didn’t add up.
His need for a good fight had been equal to his need for tenderness from her. She couldn’t count how many nights she’d patch him up. Probably as many as she had laid in bed having him show her how much he loved her. Echo had often laughed, thinking he should get a little angel tattooed on one shoulder and a devil on the other. Tabor seemed to be always fighting an unseen force. Why did things have to be so hard now, what had changed his feelings for her from love to hate?
The sound of motorcycles gave her a sense of relief—until she remembered someone was hunting Tabor. What if she had called the person that had hurt him? What if Angel was the bad guy and not the help she had hoped for? Leaving Tabor where he lay on the kitchen floor, she rushed to the counter and grabbed a pistol out of the drawer. Pulling the hammer back on the old revolver, Echo leveled it at the door. She stood over Tabor’s body. The sound of heavy boots running up the stairs had her hands trembling. But there was no way would she let anyone hurt him, even if he was a Grade A asshole at that moment.
***
When plans went south for Jason, they always went fast. His well-laid plan had backfired on him. Now he not only had injuries to his body, the truck he rented for the job was damaged. And the fucking biker had eluded him. He would have to come up with a plausible story for the rental agency in Fort Bragg.
Once he had run the bike off the road, he jumped the man before he could get out from under his bike. Everything had gone to hell as he approached the biker with the intention of hitting him over the head. He just wanted to knock the guy out and roll him and his bike into the shallow ravine. He should have known the fucker would fight like a killer; all fucking bikers were scum. Some people probably thought that about him as well.
Tabor Page 2
