by Tess Oliver
Jericho picked up his plate. “So, where have you been all this time?”
Cash grabbed up his sandwich and leaned back on the couch. “All over the fucking place. First, they sent me to some funky out of the way small town in Washington. They actually got me a position as a motorcycle mechanic, but the guy who owned the shop was a total asshole. Don’t know how anyone could stand to work under him.”
“This coming from a man who worked for Dreygon Sharpe for years,” Luke said.
Cash shook his head. “The club wasn’t work. It was my family, and once I’d gone off into hiding, I realized how alone I was. Being in that small town was like landing on Mars. Everyone seemed alien, like we weren’t even the same species. The club life was all I’d known since I was a teenager when Dreygon took me in.” He lowered the sandwich back to the plate without taking a bite.
Most of the time, Cash was one of those people who was impossible to read. That had never been more evident than on the day he took Luke off for what I thought was an execution. He’d never shown a glimmer of what he was truly up to. But now, he looked like a man completely lost and without direction. “Dreygon just isn’t the same man anymore. I don’t know what happened to him, but—”
“He’s lost his fucking mind,” Jericho said. “He had J.D. beat the crap out of me and then shoot me in the leg just to get Angel back.”
Cash looked at Jericho. “I thought I detected a limp. Just don’t understand any of it.” He seemed to be reconsidering his sandwich.
“Eat, Cash, you look like a shadow of your former self,” I said.
He smiled and picked up the food. “Little Angel, still taking care of everyone.” He took a bite.
“What happened after the small town?” I asked.
“Not much. Once they got my testimony and brought in their two suspects, they basically left me on my own. Which I sort of expected. And I was glad for it, but I grew restless pretty fast. For awhile, Jericho and I kept in contact. He told me that Gunner was trying to take the president’s patch. I thought I’d head back to Nevada and help him. I knew I couldn’t come back to the club once I’d given testimony against two members, but I thought that with Dreygon out of power, things would be easier for me.” He stared down at his plate. “Stupid fucking Gunner. He always was the kind of guy who would play with live matches in a warehouse full of dynamite.”
“Gunner knew something about me that no one else except my grandfather seems to know,” I said. “Do you know what it could be?”
Cash sat in thought for a second. “No idea. Do you think that’s why Dreygon had him killed?”
“Could be,” Luke spoke up. “Did you know that they’re trying to pin his murder on Bent for Hell.”
“Yeah, that’s what I heard.” Cash shook his head. “That’ll start a range war for sure. And the Bedlam Club is shrinking fast. Thanks to their crazy fucking leader.”
“That was Myers and Fitch, right, that you snitched on?” Jericho asked, and then instantly regretted his wording. “Sorry, I mean turned in evidence against. No one really gave a damn about those hotheads anyhow. They were always dangerous and stupid.”
“They didn’t have a great standing with the club anymore, but you know that my turning evidence against them is the highest form of treason in our world. But it had always eaten me up inside that I hadn’t done anything to stop them from killing that man.”
“Because they would have shot you dead on the spot,” Jericho said.
“Probably, but it wasn’t an excuse.”
Jericho swallowed a bite of sandwich. “Exactly what happened to Orson and Jansen, or are you allowed to talk about it?”
Cash shrugged. “Haven’t been told not to. They took my statement. I told them I did it. Detective Scoffield said he’d make sure that I got a good public defender.” He took a small bite. “Those two were pretty stupid about the whole thing. For a few days, they’d been cruising by my apartment building, so I knew something was up. Dreygon must be running out of people to carry out his orders. Those two have never been the brightest bulbs in the pack. Then one day, I was in the carport at the apartment, working on my bike, and I heard someone come up behind me. Just as I reached over to grab my wrench for protection, they fired a shot. Went right through the bike and ricocheted off the brick wall at the back of the carport. I swung around and nailed Orson in the head. He went down like a sack of potatoes. Jansen stared at me as if I’d grown horns. I told him to just go and I’d call the police to let them know what I’d done. Idiot lunged at me with a blade, and well. . . .” Cash looked at me.
“Yeah, we saw,” I said.
He looked almost embarrassed about what he’d done.
“You had no choice. The guy came at you with a knife,” Luke said.
Cash reached for his shirt. “Actually, that blade is going to help me get off on self-defense.” He lifted his shirt and showed a long line of stitches up his side.
“Oh my gosh, Cash. You should have told me,” I said. “I gave you a big ole hug.”
He smiled weakly. “No one in their right mind, stitches or not, would turn down an Angel hug.”
I held back my grin and pointed down to remind him of his sandwich.
He picked it up and once he started eating it, he nearly sucked it in. I got up to make him another. Luke continued the conversation.
“Cash, do you know anything about Dreygon buying a big load of cocaine?”
He chewed and swallowed. “Dreygon? I think his money supply was burned up after he had to pay off Bent for Hell to keep quiet about the DEA agent in his compound.” He finished his sandwich, sat back and looked over at Luke. “I’d had my suspicions about you all along, but I kept them to myself. Still, even I didn’t see what was coming.”
Luke leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. “Listen, about that. Thanks for not blowing my head off.”
“No problem. Can’t imagine that Dreygon has any big deal in the works right now. He’s too busy knocking off club members to worry about business. What did you hear?”
I cut the sandwich in two and returned to the living room with it.
“Just that something’s going down soon and we’re hoping to nail Dreygon’s ass to the wall.” Luke took hold of my hand and kissed it. “Sure would help the rest of us get on with our lives.”
Cash lifted his sandwich in a toast. “Here’s to you nailing his wrinkled old ass to the wall then.”
I stood in the center of the room and smiled at all of them, the three people who meant the most to me. Jericho looked beyond thrilled to have his close friend back in his life. He hadn’t stopped smiling since Cash walked into the house. Cash, who looked thin and weary and a uncharacteristically shaken by it all, seemed content just to be sitting with familiar faces. And then there was Luke, the man who I was so nuts about, just having him in the same room made my knees weak.
“What are you beaming about, Angel?” Jericho asked. “You look like a little girl who just got handed a fluffy kitten.”
“That’s how I feel too. I’m just happy that we’re all together and safe.” As the last words left my mouth, I ducked instinctively. Just as my brain sorted out that the explosive noise behind me was breaking glass, Luke became a massive blur. From the corner of my eye I saw him fly toward me. I braced for the impact as he pushed me out of the path of the flaming object that had been hurled through the front window. With much more chivalry than Gunner, rather than land directly on top of me, Luke took the brunt of the fall on his back. He rolled me over and then shielded me with his body. Crumbs of glass still tumbled to the ground like crystal balls of hail. Jericho and Cash had jumped up to stomp out the flames. The wood floor around the object was singed and smoke curled up from the burnt mass. Cash moved closer to the wall and peered out of the broken window pane.
As Lu
ke and I sat up, the smoke alarm went off, and I jumped into his arms.
“You’re all right,” Luke said.
“Thanks to your super power moves,” Jericho said. “Shit, I didn’t know humans could move that fast.”
“I had the advantage. From where I was sitting, I could see the damn thing flying toward the window. I was shooting across the floor to Angel before it even cracked the glass.” Luke glanced over at Cash. “Do you see anything?”
Cash surveyed the entire yard. “Nothing. Must have been a drive by.”
“Holy shit,” Jericho muttered as he stared down at what was left of our fire bomb.
Luke and I got up and walked over to it. The angel’s face looked eerie, scarred as it was by the flames and glass. Her white satin dress had melted to her porcelain body. Instead of legs, she had a metal cone, the perfect bottom for sitting on the top of the Christmas tree. A brick was tied to her neck with a piece of wire.
Cash walked over and peered down. “He’s getting crazier by the day.”
My body was just unwinding from the shock of it all, but I was still shaking. The man out there was not the man I’d once known as my grandfather. I stared down at it and the angel, my badly disfigured effigy, stared up at me with dead blue eyes. I turned to Luke and fell into his arms.
Chapter 18
Luke
Standing on the side of the highway with nothing but dry acres of sagebrush and tumbleweed on either side carried me back to the last time I’d walked the same stretch of road. My feet had been covered in blisters and blood from my long hike out to the highway. After the mind blowing relief of not being executed and tossed into a river, I’d hiked for nearly two days, being pushed along by adrenaline and a need to survive so that I could come back to the same place to rescue the woman I loved. So much had happened since Angel had first found me near death from dehydration that it was hard to believe it had been such a short span of time.
Detective Carson came around the side of the SUV. The road block had consisted of the usual stop signs stretched across the lanes. Behind the barrier of signs, four police cars were parked end to end. There were enough uniforms and armed personnel for a small army.
If all went as planned, there was a chance we could pin this directly on Dreygon. I knew it was a long shot, but if the plan worked, it would be worth the effort. Every morning, I woke up wondering what Dreygon might do to try and snatch Angel from me. Having both Jericho and Cash nearby to help keep her safe had put my mind at ease, but living with constant worry was getting old fast.
“Barringer,” Carson called me over. His phone was pressed to his ear. “The truck is about four miles out.”
I scanned the surrounding landscape. “Tell the officers to keep a close watch for trails of dust on either side of the road. Remember that truckload of submachine guns I told you about?”
“Yep. I told you I handed it over to ATF, and they couldn’t get a trace on them.”
“I know, but that’s not why I brought them up. We were ambushed by the Bent for Hell club. They drove through the sagebrush to get to us. The only thing I kept seeing was an unexplained cloud of dust. Let them know to keep a watch for activity off the road.”
“Right. We’ve got a few sharpshooters standing in the shrubs to take out tires in case they choose to ignore the road block.”
A diesel truck rolled toward us and came to a stop. Carson walked over and talked to the driver for a second. Then he motioned for two of the signs and one of the police cars to be moved.” Everything was put right back into place. Carson glanced my direction. “Glad this piece of road rarely gets used. Otherwise, this would be impossible.”
Tires chewing rough asphalt sounded in the distance. Carson gave the cue for everyone to be ready. A box truck, much like the one we’d taken for moving guns, appeared on the horizon. Heat fumed off of the black road in waves as the truck rolled toward us.
Tension muted the entire scene. The sharpshooters readied their weapons. Anything could happen, but unless the back of the truck was filled with armed men and protective gear, the two drivers were done here. I had no details of where or how this information had gotten to Carson, and sometimes it was better not to ask. The vehicle approached the road block. For a second, it seemed that it might slam through the signs but then it rolled to a polite stop.
The officers swarmed the truck. “Step out with your hands behind your heads,” Carson ordered.
The doors opened reluctantly. Two rather stunned looking guys, not more than twenty years old, stepped out of the front cab with their hands behind their heads.
They were searched.
“Anyone else in the truck?” Carson asked.
If these two had been hired by Dreygon, they didn’t have a clue what they were hauling. One of them looked close to tears, or at least close to wetting his pants, and the other looked pissed and slightly defiant. It was clear that neither men had any idea what all this was about. I walked up next to Carson. I knew he was thinking the same thing as me.
“Do you think we’ve got the right truck?” I asked.
“Same description. How many brown box trucks could be coming down this road at the exact same time?” Carson motioned a few officers to open the back of the truck. Three of them circled around the back with their weapons ready. Behind us, on the opposite side of the road block, the pulse of motorcycles grew louder. I spun around just as three bikes came over the hill. Dreygon was always easy to spot. He carried himself like no one else, with absurd confidence as if he considered himself immortal.
“It’s Sharpe,” I said.
“Detective Carson, Sir.” The female officer peered around the truck. “There’s nothing inside but furniture.”
Carson looked back. “Are you sure? Check inside everything.”
She climbed back inside the truck. Dreygon and the two other riders parked their bikes and removed their helmets. They walked calmly toward us. I was anything but calm.
“You can’t shoot him down for no reason,” Carson spoke from the side of his mouth.
“I’ve got plenty of reason.” My trigger finger tightened, and I badly just wanted to shoot the motherfucker dead as he strolled toward us with his wicked grin and leathery skin.
He stopped and looked around. “Gentlemen, is there a problem?” he asked. Just the sound of his voice made my jaw clench. His cold, murderous gaze landed on me. It was a complete contradiction to the light, friendly tone he was using. He wanted me dead as badly as I wanted him dead. “Special Agent Barringer, why have you stopped my furniture delivery? I’ve been looking forward to redecorating my cabin all morning . . .” He waved his gloved hand toward the truck. “And now this.”
“Sonavabitch,” Carson muttered.
The officers came out from behind the truck. Carson looked hopefully in their direction, but the lead man shook his head.
I pulled out my phone. This had obviously been a set up, and there had to be a motive other than making fools of us. Angel’s phone rang repeatedly. “Pick up, damn it.” I dialed Jericho’s number next. Still no answer.
Dreygon flinched, but just barely, as I stormed toward him. I grabbed his shirt. He lifted a defiant chin at me. “If you’ve done anything to her, I will tear you to fucking shreds.” The words shot out between gritted teeth. The entire field of officers watched to see what I’d do next.
Dreygon stared back at me for a second. Hatred gleamed in his eyes. There was no one who was better at a mindfuck than Sharpe. “Detective, are you going to do something about this, or do I have to file brutality charges?”
Carson walked up next to me and placed his hand on my arm. I wrenched it away from his touch.
I still had hold of Dreygon’s shirt, but what I really wanted was to wrap my hands around his throat.
“Detective Carson, is it?”
Dreygon asked with mock civility.
Carson’s jaw twitched at the question.
“I guess someone fed you some bad information. And your young cocksure agent here seems to be threatening me for buying furniture.”
“You know damn well why I’m ready to tear out your fucking throat, and it’s got nothing to do with furniture.”
“I would never hurt my own granddaughter.” He stared hard at me and forced a chilling grin. “I just want her to be back home with me. She’s my only family now.”
My phone rang.
He glanced down at my pocket. “That’s probably Angel right now. Tell her that Grandpa says hello.”
Reluctantly, I released him, pulled out my phone and looked at the screen. It was Angel. I walked away. “Angel?”
“Hey, Reno, did you call?”
“Why the fuck didn’t you answer your phone?”
She grew quiet for a second. “I was in the shower. What’s going on?”
“Sorry, I was just worried about you. Jericho didn’t answer either.”
“I think he’s taking a nap. You’re kind of freaking me out.”
“No, it’s all right. Is Cash still there?”
“Yeah, he’s watching television in the front room.” She paused. “Are you coming home soon? You sound upset.”
“I didn’t mean to worry you. I’ll be home in a few hours. You all need to keep an extra lookout though. Some shit went down today. I’ll tell you about it when I get home.”
“See you soon. Love you.”
“I love you too.” Some of the rage had drained from my body at the sound of her voice.
The road block was being cleared. Dreygon and his friends had returned to their bikes. His dark eyes skewered me once more before he pulled on his helmet and straddled his Harley.
Carson hung up his phone. “I had to let my informant know that Dreygon was on to him. He obviously planned this to find out who was leaking information.” The riders turned around and took off toward the compound. The shaken furniture delivery guys climbed back into their truck and followed them.
