by J. C. Allen
“Clear.”
It was kind of a temporary ego boost to think that I was such a badass that I could instill fear into a former soldier.
But that thought ended quickly when I realized being a badass didn’t mean anything if I couldn’t protect the people I loved.
Don’t worry, Eve. I’m coming. Just wait for me. Hang tight as you always do.
With that, I hoped on the bike, kicked the engine to life, and roared out of the parking deck. Despite the rain, I was back at the shop in record time.
My mind was still a blur, hardly remembering anything that happened between when I left the lot and when I pulled up to the shop. All I could keep my mind on was the sight of my empty apartment, the syringe, and Eve’s phone.
Nothing would be right until I had Eve back. My mind kept tugging back to the last time I’d been riding around while the fate of my lover was in the hands of another, but I fought to tug it back again and again.
This time would be different. I was smarter, better, and more aware. I was not about to let the Black Falcons ruin my life yet again.
Slipping off my chopper, I made my way towards Roost. He was waiting, rain-drenched and looking pissed, outside the shop even before I’d pulled in. Now, giving me a professional nod, I saw that he was on his phone. As I approached, he barked a few curt words into the receiver, pounded a thick, sausage-link finger against the screen, and moved to hold the door open for me.
Good. I got the business Roost today.
“Any leads?” I asked, stepping through.
“Nothin’ yet,” he answered. “That boy ain’t leave no clues behind when he left us.”
We’d both slipped into business-mode. There was no sad-eyes, no sympathetic looks, and no hugs. Not now. We slipped into the office, both of us moving towards the weapons closet. The time for whiny Derek, guffawing Roost, or bullshitting Saviors would only come if and when—well, let’s be honest, when—we got back for this move against Tyler.
“I want every possible man on this,” I said, knowing it was probably already the case. “If they got a pulse and wear our colors, I want them out there and hunting. Any information we can get on Tyler, we take. Hell, have the men interview each other to see if they know something about Tyler that I don’t.”
“What do ya think I’ve been doin’?” Roost said, already pocketing ammo.
Perks of having such big fucking pants, I thought, watching. I gave him an appreciative nod and started to fill an empty duffel bag that was waiting nearby with anything that would fit.
“Don’t suppose ya scoped the security footage before ya sodomized the guard, did ya?” Roost asked.
“I treated him nicer than that, Roost,” I said. “Clarence may have failed, but he wasn’t armed. He did what he could. And anyways, there’s no footage into my apartment. We know it was Tyler. We know Tyler has Eve. We don’t need video footage to help us any further.”
“Ya don’t think he was accompanied?”
“Possible, but we know he’s with the Falcons either way. Not gonna make a difference in how we treat Tyler and his new best buddies.”
“True,” Roost said. “I’m lookin’ more and more forward to gettin’ my hands on Tyler. Never really knew him when he was here, but I sure hate his fuckin’ guts now.”
“No, he’s mine,” I said.
But we wouldn’t even need to have this conversation if I hadn’t been so easily manipulated.
“I’ll take care of him. I need to make up for it for being a goddamn idiot with Chuck. May have killed him, but left the door wide open for Tyler to pull his little stunt.”
“Ya have the capacity, but I’d say ya aren’t exactly on the line fer this one. How the fuck could ya have known?” Roost asked. “He the reason ya girl in this whole shit-nut situation. I’dda gone and killed the motherfucka too.”
“No, no, don’t give this one to me, I should have known,” I growled, slamming the contents of the duffel bag in an effort to buy a little more room. “It’s what happened before! Chuck manipulating me… the outcome was the same. Chuck got what he wanted.”
“Not yet, it ain’t,” Roost said gruffly. “Yeah, short term. But guess what? Ya fixed yer last fuck up. And now ya get to do it ‘gain. Yer only gonna lose if ya let Tyler and the Falcons win. They be cowards, ‘member?”
I nodded at this and, managing to get one last forty-five in with the rest of the death-gear, zipped up the bag, tossed it over my shoulder, and started for the door. I’d heard everything I needed to hear. It was time to go and make up for that last fuckup.
Kill Tyler.
Rescue Eve.
Maybe take out a few Black Falcons in the process.
“An’ where do ya think ye’re goin’?” Roost said.
“Out there.”
“An’ do what?” Roost called after. “Ride ‘round in the rain, burning fuel an’ time, all while totin’ a bag full o’ guns? Maybe takin’ a shot or two at some assholes? How well ya see that plan runnin’ its course?”
“What would you have me do?” I asked. “I’m gonna go kill Tyler and get my girl back. The last two times I’ve just said fuck it, it’s worked out.”
“And ya think fate gonna shine on ya a third time?” Roost said, moving quickly to block me from my bike. “Here me out, would ya?”
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll repeat myself. What would you have me do?”
“Tara,” Roost said.
“What? What the fuck, Roost?” I said. “This ain’t the fuckin’ time for dirty jokes.”
“I ain’t sayin’ ya should fuck Tara, ya twit!” Roost said, rolling his eyes. “Jesus swallowin’ Christ! I’m sayin’ ya should get her on the line—tell her what’s happened—an’ maybe she can help narrow down the search.”
I frowned at that. How would a crazy prostitute, one of Eve’s craziest friends, make any difference?
“How would she know any better than us?” I asked.
I winced as he lifted his hand, swatting my across the head. I really fucking hated when he would do shit like this, especially when he never bothered to consider if what he said made a modicum of sense.
“Dumbass!” he said. “She worked for the motherfuckers who likely got Eve! Who better to ask for Falcon hidin’ places than a former Falcon whore?”
I scowled, moved my hand to my head where he’d slapped me, and glared at him. I couldn’t argue with the logic, but it didn’t change that a swat from the man hurt like hell.
“Don’t fucking hit me.”
“Don’t be a fuckin’ dumbass, an’ I won’t have to hit ya.”
“Fuck you.”
Nevertheless, I was already in the process of dialing Tara’s cell. I didn’t think this idea was a great one, but Roost made it sound like less of a terrible idea at least.
Plus, there was some relief to the weird ass interpretation that I would be sleeping with Tara, a thought that was barely more tolerable than letting Roost suck my dick.
She answered on the first ring.
“Derek?” she said, sounding frantic. “I think something’s wrong.”
I blinked at this, not expecting her to be on the same chaotic page so quickly. How would she know?
“Huh?”
“I’m at your place,” she said, sounding out-of-breath. “Well, the garage-part, anyway. Usually this is the part where Eve buzzes me up—can’t take the elevator to your floor otherwise—but she’s not answering. Clarence said I’m not allowed to go up without your permission, and was just about to call you.”
Fast learner. That’s a relief at least.
“I’ve tried both the intercom and her cell, but—”
“Tara, stop. Tyler took her,” I interrupted her. “The fucking security guy let him up… well, it wasn’t his fault. But anyways, Tara, the Falcons have her. A traitor from the Saviors claimed her”
There was a long, baited silence on her end of the line.
“FUCK!”
Good, I thought. At leas
t we’re on the same page. Even if it did just cost me my eardrums.
“My reaction exactly,” I said. “Here’s the deal. My current plan is to just go in, literal guns blazing, and rescue her. Roost, perhaps being detached and smart, thinks this is a retarded idea.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“OK then,” I said, trying not to be bothered by multiple people calling me an idiot. “Anyways, Roost thinks you having connections to the Falcons from your time with them might help us. Maybe you have some ideas about where they would have taken Eve or where they’d be escaping off to. Thoughts?”
A long silence came, so long that I began to wonder if Tara had just gotten overwhelmed and hung up the phone. I honestly didn’t care if she hung up, as it would have give me an excuse to go in with the trigger at the ready. I moved my phone back, and—
“I might have something.”
Ahh, damnit.
“Oh? Tell me,” I said, hoping I didn’t come off too demanding.
“Look, it’s gonna take a lotta finagling and you aren’t gonna like it. You gotta be ready for that.”
“I don’t care, if it is even the slightest chance, we need to take it,” I said, pushing her to continue. “I still have the option to just say fuck it and shoot everything up. I’m going to defer to other options, but it’s my last resort if need be.”
“Alright,” she said, fully aware of how serious I was. “I still know a few of the girls we’d worked with. I actually reached out to them recently with the news of the bordello, a few were interested but… well, you know, they’re still scared shitless. Anyway, one of the girls got moved up. Didn’t even know that was a thing with them, but she said if things didn’t work out, she’d have a spot for me.”
“What’s this got to do with anything, Tara?” I asked, unsure where she was going. “We don’t have time to discuss office politics for the Black Falcons.”
“Well, it’s like this,” she said, ignoring my last few words. “She don’t know yet that I’m not interested. I didn’t wanna tell her to go fuck herself with her offer. I’m trying to win these girls over, after all. So, if I get her on the horn, if I tell her that I’m interested, then I’ll at least have my toe in the door. Anyway, she knows that Eve and me is tight, so it probably shouldn’t be too tough to get her to tell me what she knows if I make it sound like I’m nervous for her.”
That seems… a bit too easy.
“And what if she suspects something?” I asked.
“Look, Derek,” Tara said, sounding almost hurt and offended. “These girls like me and they trust me. I was with the Falcons for longer than I’d like to think about, and in that time, I held a lot of crying whore’s hands and helped wipe a lot of blood and cum off a lot of chins. Trust me, if I say I’m interested in going back and tell her I’m worried about Eve, there’s no chance she’s going to suspect me of lying.”
I felt my stomach tighten as I realized what she was telling me. Those girls wouldn’t suspect her of lying because, under any other circumstance, she wouldn’t have. This situation was officially forcing her to betray the trust of her own.
But that wasn’t why my stomach tightened—while it was a little gross, it was a necessity. I was more concerned about someone blabbering when they shouldn’t have to someone they didn’t need to, leading to more dangerous parties to know about the plan. And if that happened, Tara was as good as dead.
“Tara,” I started, “I’m sor—”
“Save it, pretty boy,” she cut me off. “If it helps my girl, then I’d do worse. Wouldn’t do it happy, but I’d do it. So just keep the mushy bullshit to yourself unless you’re up for paying for a full hour, got it?”
Well. OK then. So much for that.
“Got it.”
“Keep close to your phone, Derek. I’m not sure how long this’ll take, but I don’t wanna have to wait on you when I get the goods.”
“You’re the best, Tara,” I said.
“Yeah, I know,” she said, “all the guys tell me so.”
She hung up before I could even think of a way to respond to that. I just looked up to Roost with a sigh.
“What she say?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“You better be right. Because she’s the one we’re relying on now.”
12
Eve
I woke up with a startle.
I was in complete darkness. Slowly, slowly, very, very slowly, my eyes adjusted to the room and I saw two windows up above me; longer than taller, as if downstairs and needing to look up. To my left and to my right were men, but they were shrouded in such darkness that I could not make out anything other than their size and their height.
I’m going to die.
I have no idea where I am. I…
I felt a scratch, an itch, a literal pain in the side of my neck. I tried to move my right hand to get up to it, but then I realized something horrible.
My hands were bound to the ground by chains.
I could not escape.
I’m going to die.
I have no idea where I am. I have no idea how to get out of here. And I don’t even know who’s around me, but they certainly aren’t the friendly type.
I’m going to die!
OK… just, take in the surroundings. What can we see?
I was in a basement. The stone walls surrounding me seemed to mock any of the progress I had just made. All of the escapes I had made from the Black Falcons, with the assistance of Derek, Roost, and any of the other Saviors, had done nothing but delay the inevitable.
Because I had been a bad prostitute, a rebellious girl, someone who did not have her “employer’s” best interests at heart… I was going to die.
I closed my eyes, trying to fight the panic that continued to try and snake its way back into me. I had to stay calm, had to focus.
Who had brought me here? Not Chuck… now that I remembered it… didn’t the guy say Chuck was probably dead?
But… that didn’t make sense. Chuck may have been foolish and dangerous, but he wasn’t suicidal or even partially so. He was…
No matter what, he was at fault for what had gone down.
“Bastard!” I muttered.
I frowned, wondering where Derek was. Did he know I was gone yet? I chewed my lip, hating how cruel fate seemed to be. We had been back together, things had seemed to be getting better and now…
Now we were separated once more, and it didn’t look like there was going to be any salvation this time.
If I ever got my hands on my brother, and he was still breathing, I would kill him myself. No more giving him an infinite amount of chances that he just abused.
No, that was done.
“I hate you, Chuck!”
“So, you’re finally awake.”
The voice somehow sounded familiar, yet it most certainly wasn’t Chuck’s. Was it… was it the voice that I had heard just before I got knocked out?
I followed the source and spotted a set of stairs that had been previously shrouded in darkness. Now, however, an open doorway at the top offered enough illumination from the upper level to reveal them and the silhouette of a short, stocky man who was most certainly not my brother at the top of the stairs.
“I was wondering what would rise first. You, or my dick thinking about having my way with you.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I spat, even though I was deathly terrified I was about to be raped and forced into the very life I had spent the past few weeks fleeing.
“So a shitty memory, huh?” he said as he continued down the stairs. “That’s rude, don’t you think? I just gave you the best sleep you’ve had in ages, and the thanks I get is ‘who the fuck are you?’”
I didn’t say anything, realizing that just like Chuck, this guy relished turning my words into a mocking point, although he seemed less blunt than Chuck and more… disgustingly playful and jesting.
“The name is Tyler. I used to be a Savage Savior, but then I thought, ‘na
h, I don’t like being associated with losers.’ So I came to the winners. I became a Black Falcon. And my first order of business? Reclaiming what is rightfully ours. You.”
I wanted to spit on him so hard at that moment, but rationality won out—better to save my aggression to him for when I could actually hurt him than with meaningless gestures like saliva.
“As for Chuck? Well, I have good news for you, from the way you just described him. He’s dead.”
Dead…
The word sounded so strange to hear. It was something that I had just spent the past few moments hoping and begging for; alternatively, over the years before he’d sold me into a life of sex, I had wanted him to change. Even in our fights, I always held out hope that he would discover how terrible of a person he was being and better himself.
But now, hearing it… I just felt empty. I didn’t really have feelings either way, and I didn’t think that was because of a lack of them. I think I just didn’t know what to think of them.
It really didn’t help matters that I was bound by metal chains in a basement in God knows where, about to either be killed, raped, or, best case, moved somewhere else where one of those two things would happen.
“How?” I asked.
“Your boy toy killed him,” Tyler said simply. “Knife straight through the throat. I guess it was his remix of ‘Shot to the Heart.’”
Tyler giggled at his own terrible joke, but I was left disgusted. If Derek really had killed him… well, he had, hadn’t he? The Black Falcons would have no reason to lie about Chuck’s death. It wasn’t like I loved him. It was more just a simple statement of fact, designed to give me details for my own sanity since I wasn’t a threat in the slightest.
Still…
“Here’s the bad news for you, though,” Tyler said, sharply changing from a giggling clown to a serious threat. “You get me, instead. And I’ve had my eyes on you ever since Derek wouldn’t shut the hell up about you.”
