by Ann Grech
The front of the building that was visible from the street contained only a single hinged door with a light, a keypad and a video camera. You had to be one of the inner circle of trusted members or a prospect to get a pin code that allowed access into the building. While Timmy didn’t have a code, he’d been in the clubhouse a few times. Downstairs was a bar, a simple saloon-style watering hole. Timber tables, uncomfortable chairs and a long bar which one of the old ladies ran with an iron fist. Food wasn’t bad, but even if it was you wouldn’t dare comment. She didn’t entertain any crap in that bar. No drugs, no sex. That was for the back room, where all bets were off. The rumors were that any woman, other than an old lady, who went in there, willingly or not, was fair game for as many men as could get into her at a time. ‘Stop’ or ‘no’ weren’t part of the vocabulary in that room. The club’s sergeant at arms had bragged that one of their ‘little lovelies,’ as he’d put it, had managed three guys up her ass at once. Of course, the reality was that she was in hospital for weeks. She’d been beaten unconscious and raped so violently that major surgery was necessary to repair the life-threatening damage they’d caused.
They parked their bikes out of sight, a five-minute walk away from the clubhouse. It would suck if a quick getaway was needed but neither Timmy nor Rake wanted to risk being seen there. The Fury had enough manpower and weapons that the two of them wouldn’t stand a chance if gunshots were fired. It was better to get in and out without being caught, if that were somehow possible. That theory also assumed Ares Fury didn’t have Chloe. If they did, all bets were off. Timmy would go down guns blazing.
Instead of entering the compound from the front, they jumped the back fence and made their way over to the smaller of the two buildings onsite. The one at the back of the compound was the accommodation for people who wanted to crash there. With the exception of two rooms which were occupied by couples who Timmy knew, the others appeared empty. Neither Timmy nor Rake would risk shining a spotlight in through the windows, but there were no sounds emanating from them. Most of the doors were open too, the dim hallway light spilling far enough into the room so they could see that the beds were unoccupied.
“How the fuck are we gonna get inside? We need to check in the clubhouse too.”
“The door over there, by the two roller doors along the side of the building.” Timmy pointed. “That’s the delivery entry. I can’t see any cameras there. Maybe we can get in that way.” Rake nodded and they crept along in the shadows cast by the trees planted along the fence.
“Isn’t that the sheriff?” Rake whispered urgently.
Timmy had been so caught up in not making a sound that he’d zoned out to his surroundings. Not good. But relief swept through him when Peterson turned fully, allowing them to clearly recognize him as he closed another access door without making a sound. He ran through the shadows to the opposite side of the building and jumped the fence. They didn’t see or hear anything else until a dark electric car without lights on silently sped past the front of the clubhouse.
“Let’s go somewhere I can call him from. We’re not going in if he’s checked it out and Chloe’s not there.”
“Agreed.” Timmy and Rake made their way back to the part of the chain-link fence that they’d scaled to get into the compound and ran part way back to their bikes before stopping in the shadows of a nearby building. They had privacy and there was no way they could be heard from the clubhouse.
“Peterson, it’s Timmy. I saw you come out of the Fury’s clubhouse. Tell me Chloe isn’t in there.”
“No, she’s not in there. It’s clear.”
“Thank fucking Christ. Keep looking for her, man. I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, no problem, Timmy.”
Chloe pulled her beat-up Jeep into the drive that was now overgrown with grass and weeds. As far as old farmhouses went, this one had seen better days even when she had visited it with Tristan during their last spring break together a year earlier. He’d stumbled across it on a drive for inspiration and had taken her with him. Chloe was preparing to help out at the pharmacy that day until he’d arrived on her doorstep. Apparently, insanity was a real risk if Tristan were forced to spend one more minute with his annoying roommate. He’d promised her camping, wilderness, hiking, beautiful landscapes and all the inspiration she could dream up. Her momma smiled at Tristan’s overly excited descriptions of their destination and ushered them both out the door. Instead of the idyllic campsite that he’d described, they ended up at the same farmhouse she’d just parked close to. It had been abandoned years earlier. The first time she’d been there, Chloe was convinced an axe murderer would get them, but Tristan was right. It was the most peaceful place she’d ever been and it was a perfect setting to get their creative juices flowing. There were birds everywhere eating the fruit that still grew in the untended orchard and at night, the air was so quiet that they could hear the babbling stream a good hour’s walk away as clearly as if they were standing next to it.
Tonight, like that first night there, the old farmhouse felt a little creepy. Lit only by the moon and the Jeep’s weak headlamps, it looked even more rundown than it was the last time she’d visited. Chloe was suddenly glad that she had Mo for company. In the short time she’d been borrowing the dog from Timmy, he’d become her sidekick and her best friend. She found comfort in his prickly fur, his cold wet nose and loud snores at night when he snuck onto her bed. Most nights she laid in the fetal position simply because the dog took up so much room on her little single bed.
Mo looked relaxed though, his ears flopping lazily around his face rather than twitching to capture every sound that he heard. “We’re sleeping in the car tonight, Mo. I don’t want to get eaten by whatever wildlife is out there and I don’t have any blankets.” Chloe sighed when Mo nudged her then looked outside. She felt cramped too and if she was going to spend the night in a confined space with a dog that, comparatively speaking, made methane smell like roses, she’d need to let him out. She turned her cell off so she didn’t have to watch the screen light up with the countless calls and messages Timmy, her sisters and her friends were leaving and got out. Reaching under her seat, she groped for the flashlight her daddy insisted she carry with her. Mo bounded out and sniffed around, familiarizing himself with his surroundings before picking a nearby tree to mark as his.
Stretching, Chloe took a deep breath into her lungs, wishing that the pain inside her came from driving in a bumpy Jeep for an hour and could be healed by a bit of exercise. No, nothing she did could repair the gaping knife wound through her heart that Timmy had inflicted on her. She thought about his accusation that she’d manipulated him, that she was at fault here, and her heart sank. She had manipulated him. Even though he clearly told her he didn’t want to be with her, she’d stripped down and offered herself to him. What was he supposed to do? No. That’s ridiculous. This wasn’t her fault. Timmy could have picked up her dress and given it back to her. He could have walked away. Hell, he could have kicked her out of his house naked. But no, he had pinned her to his huge body, blown her away with his talented touch and then acted like a Neanderthal when he found out he’d popped her cherry. Jesus, most guys loved the idea of being with a virgin. But no, the one guy that Chloe went and fell for took it like she’d committed a cardinal sin. She’d have to go to the pharmacist tomorrow to get the morning-after pill. That was if she could face seeing another human being. Blade’s threats and the emotional trauma from the funeral had driven her to seek comfort from a man who she’d probably imagined would do things differently. Well, that wasn’t right either. She knew sex with Timmy would be hot and hard, and she loved every minute of it. His dirty words amped her up unlike any touch could and paired with his fingers, mouth and cock, he was a god. Each part of him ought to have a warning label attached. Nothing that good should be legal.
Should she get tested when she saw a doctor too? She didn’t think that Timmy would have anything, but she couldn’t be too careful. Why didn’t she insist
on raising the issue of protection before he scrambled her brains so badly that she didn’t even realize he was going to fuck her until he was inside her? Why did she obey him when he said that she needed to be quiet? If she’d told him, things wouldn’t be the way they were. Because what did she have now? She’d finally lost her virginity. Check. She’d experienced amazing sex. She’d probably be ruined for any other man. Period. She’d destroyed her career by sleeping with the boss that she’d never be able to face again. Check, check and fucking check. What did she have left? Sure, her sisters would always be there and so would Jo and Tristan, but could that be enough for Chloe now that she’d experienced nirvana?
Mo bounded back into the Jeep and curled up as best he could on the passenger seat. He half hung off it, his massive head next to the stick shift. There was no way either of them would be comfortable tonight. She could try to sleep in the back, but if she did, Mo would be on top of her in an instant. She was scared of getting squashed to death by his sheer size. Instead, she slipped behind the wheel again and closed and locked the doors. Windows opened only a crack to let the fresh air in, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the still evening. Trying to figure out what to do and where to go wasn’t going to happen tonight. Her options were too limited. She couldn’t leave her family. Especially not now, but unless she gave up her dream of working in a tattoo studio she was going to have to drive for hours each day just to work. Of all the studios in a two-hour radius, Rake was the only one who had shown any interest in her. And she had to work. Claire and Cleo’s credit cards were maxed out with all the new clothes and the million other things they’d needed after the explosion, not to mention the funeral having cleaned out what paltry savings they all had. Her momma and daddy had cancelled their life insurance policies when they were faced with bankruptcy and were cutting costs wherever they could, so that was no help. It was also no secret within the family that their parents’ assets had been whittled away to virtually nothing when they’d sold off as much as they could to pay down debts. Claire hadn’t even bothered to take their wills to the attorney to be read yet. There wasn’t any point. They didn’t have the money to pay for the attorney’s fees and there wasn’t anything of great value to distribute between the girls. Savings that her momma and daddy were slowly building back up were still inaccessible, their bank accounts frozen pending the outcome of Sheriff Peterson’s investigation. That didn’t matter much either. Chloe knew from the discussions she’d had with them, that the accounts weren’t in any better shape than the sisters’. That didn’t leave Chloe with many options when it came to working.
The sun’s morning rays and Mo’s paws square in her stomach woke Chloe from her troubled sleep. She’d only drifted off for what felt like five minutes. Her night was filled with rambling thoughts and regrets tamping down the flames of desire that licked at her whenever she thought about her first and only intimate time with a man. But at that moment, the smell of dog in too close quarters with her was overpowering. Mo bounded out of the Jeep over the top of her before Chloe had even opened the door fully, taking off to romp through the long grass.
Morning at the farm was beautiful. This high up in the Coast Ranges everything seemed so bright. Each blade of grass was the greenest of green, every wildflower a vibrant color. The rust on the rickety old roof a deep orange/brown and the leaning timber walls were a faded grey where the red and white paint had long-ago peeled away. Even early, the sky was that amazing shade of blue Chloe had only ever seen in this place with its wide skies.
She didn’t have much food in the car, only a few chocolate bars that she kept stashed in her purse, so she’d need to leave soon, but while Mo was having fun, she wanted to take the chance to work out some of the angst. Before she did that though, there was one thing she needed to do. She fired off the text message that she’d been hashing out all night. It was only with the light of day that she’d made her decision. She needed a new direction, needed to move on from the disaster that the last week had turned into. She couldn’t do that if she was living with the daily reminders.
Feeling better about her decision, she pulled out her ever present sketchpad and charcoal pencils and wandered out along the paths she and Tristan had explored last time they were here. They were more overgrown this time and barefoot, she slipped a few times, falling over and grazing her knee before giving up and sitting on the hood of the Jeep to sketch the ramshackle hut.
Chloe lost herself in the lines of the drawing, creating perspective and depth, shadow and highlights. She breathed life onto the page, pouring what was left of her heart and soul into it. The hours ticked by as she put aside the drawing and began sketching from her heart. The portrait as she saw Timmy last night flowed from her, shadowed and dark, brooding and sexy as hell. She mapped each line of his stubble from the burn against her face and his lips from the feel against hers. She remembered the planes of his chest and abs from the sweaty glide against her back and the shape of his hands from their touch, both gentle and firm. His powerful legs had supported her body as his cock had taken her to heights she hadn’t fathomed in her wildest dreams. Her hand traced every minute detail of his body that had been burned into her mind’s eye while her heart ached. Her entire being felt broken. She’d given something precious to Timmy – not her virginity. It was high time she lost that pesky thing. But her trust, her heart: giving him those was a painful mistake.
Chloe heard the car long before she saw it. The slipping fan belt was a dead giveaway for Tristan. The one thing he seemingly cared the least about was his car. His father had a garage of collectables that were worth millions. Twenty years earlier when Tristan was a bright-eyed high-school graduate he was, in his father’s mind, still malleable enough to bring into the family business. Daddy had bought him the latest Mercedes thinking that material goods would persuade Tristan to back down on his moral outrage against his father’s company. Tristan still drove the junker today. Chloe was sure it was to piss his father off, but you never knew with him. It could be that Tristan simply couldn’t give up evidence of the last nice thing his father had done for him.
Her friend’s footsteps along the overgrown drive were muted, but Mo’s low snarl wasn’t. “Hey boy, I’m glad you’re here protecting our girl. I won’t hurt her. It’s okay,” Tristan crooned to Mohawk. He’d always had a way with animals. That connection had only strengthened his public stance against his father’s cosmetics company, which tested extensively on animals. Tristan’s criticism of the family business had cost him his relationship with his father, but Tristan’s head was held high, his own conscience clear from the pain and suffering of thousands of animals. He’d even gone so far as to check into where the money in his trust fund had come from. His painstaking audit had uncovered that the cash wasn’t ‘dirty money’ as Tristan put it. If it was, Chloe knew he wouldn’t have had a hesitation giving it up.
“It’s okay, Mo. He’s a friend.” Immediately, Mo backed down, flopping in front of Tristan for a tummy scratch and to lap up water from the bottles that Tristan had brought with him.
“You all right, honey?”
“I don’t want to talk, T. I can’t. One day I’ll tell you everything, but not today.”
“Okay, honey. Mind if I stick around and draw some too? I’ll stay out of your hair.” Chloe knew that was not all he’d be doing. He would send her sisters the coordinates of their location before he’d even get back to his car and her peace would be shot to hell. Claire would be fussing over her and Cleo would be seething, throwing every insult at Timmy that she could think up. Who knows who else would arrive with them. Tristan finding her said a lot. Timmy had spoken with her sisters. They were worried enough that they called Tristan in Berkley in case she headed back there. And all she wanted was some time alone. Sure, she was selfish about it, but she was in no frame of mind to talk to anyone last night. She still wasn’t.
Chloe sighed. “Sure.”
* * * *
Timmy was going out of his mind. He and
Rake had covered every square inch of the town. Cleo and Zane had gone back to Santa Rosa to speak with her friends and search all of Chloe’s old favorite places. Claire had stayed at home feeding information to everyone and coordinating their movements. Apparently, Bakos had done some magic with the county police force and had her vehicle on watch lists with a team of people checking surveillance cameras in and around town and more widely. Chloe’s best friend from college, some guy named Tristan, had organized a group of friends at Berkley to look for her. But there was squat. She’d disappeared off the grid. Her cell was turned off, her message bank full from Timmy and her sisters’ frantic messages. No one had seen nor heard from her since she ran out of his house at 8:22 p.m. last night. At noon, Timmy was sick with worry. By 3 p.m. he was unbearable. Rake had taken his Sunday shift at the studio, dealing with the walk-ins they always had on weekends. That left Timmy to retrace his steps over every square inch of the town that he’d lived in for the last five years and had come to learn like the back of his hand since last night. He’d canvassed two of the three nearby towns too. He was beginning to look like a criminal casing joints out or stalking someone, but he had a job to do.
Claire’s call on his cell jolted him out of his thoughts as he scanned the food court in the Crystal Springs Mall again for Chloe’s blonde tresses amongst the hoard of babbling teenagers. She was only a few years older than them but she was completely different too. He wasn’t sure whether it was because she’d finished her college degree, or that she was naturally more mature than them. Apparently, this Tristan dude that she knew was older too. Maybe she digs older guys. Pushing down the jealously possessive streak that flared when he thought of Chloe with another man, he answered the ringing cell.
