Tear Me Away (Desert Wraiths MC Romance)

by Kiss, Amy

"Oh shit." His face was ugly, but not quite as ugly as when my bullet cracked through his skull. The gunshot ran crisp in the air and then vanished. The biker's body went rattling down the fire rail.

  I sprinted back to my nest, spiking again. The world resolved into high def under the yellow glaze my glasses gave me. If I took em off, my retinas would burn white for days. But even at my speed, gun fire rattled out in the parking lot below before I could peek out.

  A dozen Sand Scorpions converged on my boys, from every cross-street, nook and alley. No engines rumbled, the firing vectors didn't criss cross. This wasn't even an ambush. It was a goddamn execution.

  Canyon went down even before I sighted my rifle. He staggered back into the bikes and they all crashed onto the lot. I found a sharpshooter with a rifle on the motel roof and ran a round through his heart. One more was on the next building over, and I spun and took him out. Those were the executioners.

  But there were too many file and rank, and they all spat out bullets with automatics.

  Where the fuck were they getting this shit from? I wondered as I turned one's head into an overripe tomato. Uncut was down now too, still uncut in a way, but puckered with a dozen additional holes. My guys should all be dead by now, but these Scorpions were just spraying. No training. It didn’t give me hope. Just better than nothing odds.

  Something cracked near my head. In my hyper state I saw another bullet fly past my skull. More crashed on the low stone rise shielding me, and I had to roll to find a clean spot. When I popped up, Twist was down too. I felt nothing. It felt like a deeper nothing than for the others, and that sickened me. He was one of mine. An asshat, but blood. I took out another two guys in his memory, and another seemed to have been down from one of my guys, but it had shifted now. 8 on 1 was never a fair fight. Three of the guys advanced on Crispy and he slumped to the ground as if he had just heard shit news.

  The guns turned on me. Concrete dust and chunks and steel were flying my way now. It felt like I was in a sandstorm. My cheek felt wet and I found blood. Men were shouting orders. I tried to sight another shot and found my viewfinder shaking. I had spiked way too much and my body was coming down hard. A dozen minutes and I would be making angels in the gravel. If I lived that long.

  Police sirens wailed in the distance. I heard boot-steps clatter my way.

  I needed to extract. I strapped the rifle to my back, and sprinted the side of the roof, leaping towards the next one. I tumbled right over the edge, rolled and broke right back into a run. The next roof was further or I was slipping. I barely caught the edge, and had to heave myself on. I lay there panting, looking at the cyan sky. Even with my shades it began to turn white and I had to look away.

  This was probably safe from the Scorpions at least. But I couldn't stay here. The withdrawals might actually kill me if they were hitting so fast. Whatever modifications they’d done to my body must be coming loose. A long term problem that wouldn’t matter if I didn’t even make it through the short term.

  I looked out and saw I was going deeper in Gilsner, going further from home.

  Katie was in there. She knew medicine. She would have meds. She could help me.

  Or maybe she would put me down. Turn me in.

  Either seemed ok.

  I staggered to my feet, crawled down the building and moved into the city.

  Katie

  "Geez, Katie, watch where you aim that thing!"

  "Huh?" I noticed my arm poking out in the aisle ready to hit someone with 20 ccs of canine tranquilizer. Not dangerous - probably fun actually - but I said sorry and stuck my hand back in.

  Sandy frowned, then came over from her lab bench and took my latex gloved hand in her own. "Hey, are you remembering it again?'

  I peered in to her adorable little face. The dusty blonde hair that fit her to a T. Her wide green puppy eyes. No wonder she got along so well with the dogs.

  "Yeah," I lied. "I'm so sorry."

  She drew me into a tight hug that almost ended up with me injecting her again. "I'm telling you. Take some time off."

  "It's the beginning of the semester."

  "Exactly. We don't have much crap to do. I'll bring you all your stuff when you're ok."

  Ok after a near bout of rape, as far as she knew. Not seeing a dead man staring at you with a knife in his throat. I hadn't told her that bit, or the whole town would know. I shivered at what that would mean for me.

  All she knew was that a biker had cornered me in an alley and started to grope me, until someone stepped in and stopped him.

  I really should have lied about there being a savior. I counted myself a decent liar, but Sandy turned curiosity into a martial art. I'd tried selling him as some clean shaven college boy, but she'd kept asking me about his history. I couldn't keep up with her jabs.

  So I confessed that he was a biker too. Which was exactly the wrong thing to do. Her questions switched from his thoughts to his body. And she didn't settle for my vague visual descriptions. She wanted a muscle by muscle play about holding onto him when he took me home.

  She knew how big a deal that ride was for me, which made this guy sound even more special. Couldn't lie about that. I'd left the car there, and she'd had to send her new stunt driver beau to pick it up the next day.

  Ironically, the part she didn't buy at all was the one bit of truth. That Ghost had just turned around after taking me home and driven off. But her guilt about the whole thing kept her from pushing me on that point.

  For now.

  God knows what she would think if she could see what was on my mind as we worked side by side.

  I barely remembered the rape. The beer had even clouded the murder. My night almost seemed to start at the sight of Ghost glowing in that open doorway. My killer in shining armor. I couldn't forget the way he had perched me on his ride and held me as I shook.

  As easy for him as slashing a man's throat.

  He was a portrait in contrasts that stuck deep in my head like a song you can't forget.

  Sandy released me. "Just think about it, OK? Maybe even think about talking to someone."

  Pfft, like I could afford that. Sandy and I had grown up on different sides of town - a perfect example of opposites attracting. But my parents had been deeply indebted. When they'd died, they hadn't even fully owned the townhouse they left me. I'd part timed as a waitress my senior year to pay off the final bits, only to find that I still had to pay taxes on the damn thing. Between those and vet tech school, I was burning through credit. If I just sold the place, it would be enough to pay for school, pay rent till I graduated...but, the house was all I had from my parents.

  Yeah, that was just the memory I needed to add to the mix in my head. I focused on our practicals. The lab we were in held hundreds of little vials of medicine, some to keep animals alive, some to send them on their way peacefully, some that did one to one animal and the opposite to another. Part of our training to be veterinary nurses involved getting the syringes and gear ready for the appointments of the day.

  It was the sort of mindless work that would get you in a lot of trouble if you screwed up. Sandy hummed a little ditty as she did her bit, busing a tray to one of the teaching hospital's rooms. Truth be told, there wasn't enough work to send two students down here. The vet hospital was a relic of when we had ranchers from all around come here for advice. Most of them had long since been rounded up by some megacorp that had its own in-house vets and staff. Probably where I would be headed if I wanted a job. This house pet stuff might never even come in handy.

  So I had nothing but time. Time to think.

  Ghost was military, I'd decided a couple nights ago. I was staring at my ceiling and trying to forget the sight of that guy Twist's ugly face grinning down on my breasts. Even then it was a faint memory.

  Nothing compared to how close my brain held onto Ghost. To the broad thrust of his chest. The ripples of his back. His hands picking me up like a piece of gear, and his eyes studying me endlessly. Assessing me. All carefull
y sculpted elements. Built for some purpose more than whatever his stupid club had him do.

  I could get lost in the memory of his body for minutes. Analyzing it gave me a sort of justification for that. Eventually, I would remind myself he killed a guy, and that would get me back to work.

  But that's what soldiers were trained to do right? And Twist - ugh - had said that this was a guy that had done bad stuff. All these bikers did, so what did it matter that he killed one of them.

  Then again, he was one of them. Even if he stood a little bit apart, even if he was a soldier once, he was a biker through and through now.

  So why had he put his whole club at risk to save me? Why put a ho over a bro?

  I smiled to myself. It was the sort of the thing Sandy would say, and though she was working a few feet away, I couldn't share this. So I had to think it for her.

  Our work practice shift ended, and we went to change. I pushed into the changing room and froze.

  "What?" Sandy stared at me, ready to swoop in.

  "The room he took me too... It had bleach."

  "I thought you were in an alley?"

  I hated lying to her. "I mean, the corner of the alley. Someone had dumped a bunch of the stuff there."

  "Oh, honey." She took me by the arm and led me in. "I'm so sorry I left you. I am such an idiot."

  "It's ok."

  "Well, I'm here now, OK? I got you. It's ok. It smells like bleach and it's ok."

  She had on such an earnest look. I broke out laughing. Her cute face looked even cuter the deeper she frowned.

  "I'm ok," I said. "I'm ok."

  I slung off my lab coat, lathered my hands and studied myself in the mirror. I wasn't as cute as Sandy, but I wasn't so bad off. A heart shaped face and thick bronze hair, courtesy of Mom. A good straight nose and glimmering copper eyes, thanks to Dad. I could almost see the two of them, one at each shoulder, their faces beaming to meet mine. My vision blurred. What was it about this day making me so moody? I was pretty sure all my stress had chased away my normal cycle for half a year and I wasn't due anyway. Maybe it was the secrets I had to keep now. What would I have told them anyway? About the near rape? About the murder?

  About my crush on the murderer?

  Oh god, no. It wasn't a crush. My first adult crush couldn't be on a murderer.

  I splashed myself and met Sandy at the locker. "You're right," I said.

  "I am?" Sandy sounded like she had seen a miracle.

  "Yeah, about taking time off. I think I'm calling it early today. Can I get your notes tomorrow?"

  "Yes, yes, absolutely. You need a ride?"

  "No, no, it's fine. I'm not in a rush."

  We parted with another tight hug.

  I went out and baked in the Arizona heat till the bus came. The motion and heat soothed my worries away, and I even dozed enough to dream. I was still riding somewhere in my head, but when I tried to open my eyes, my vision was black. I pulled back and saw the tapered edges of something vast in front of me. The dark surface rippled and I saw the muscles underneath. I pushed against it and now I could feel deep and powerful breaths and a soothing heartbeat. The faint scent of gasoline.

  "Hey, miss?"

  I startled. We were at my stop. I thanked the driver as I got out. I walked past block after block of manicured lawns. Kids played on some of them, smeared with white sunscreen.

  A smile crossed my face. It seemed to be happening more now. Maybe a new appreciation for life. Odd that it took death to that. I giggled at how crazy the human brain worked.

  But maybe it wasn’t the near death part of the experience that awakened me.

  Kids shrieked nearby and rescued me from my thoughts. I watched them and wondered if I’d chosen the wrong profession. I had the grades to be a nurse. My vet tech degree was 4 year and I'd have most of the prereqs done once I finished up this year. But nursing school meant I'd have to leave Gilsner. I wasn't ready for that. Not yet.

  My own little lawn sat perfectly still. The grass had wilted to a straw yellow. I promised myself to water it as I walked up to my front door. It rattled open and I stepped into my refuge.

  The smell of diesel and sulfur hung heavy in the air.

  I should have turned and run. The world outside was bright, open, safe. A wheezing sound hit my ears though, and it sounded very much like hyperventillation. It sounded like a wounded animal.

  I grabbed a long unused umbrella from the strand and crept around the entrance to the living room. A trunk-like arm swung from the side of the couch. A dark mass covered the cushions, billowing up and down. I saw the frizz of light hair and knew it was him.

  My own breathing spurted into overdrive for a whole mess of reasons. I moved into view, but his eyes were shut, his other hand covering them. His jacket lay in a crumpled heap and he just had on a white shirt and jeans.

  "Ghost?" I said.

  My words froze. His body locked and he looked like a giant toy soldier. Ever so slowly, his face turned toward me. The hidden half glistened red.

  "Katie," he said, "I need some help."

  His words sounded very forced. His body remained locked still, but his arm gripped the bottom edge of my sofa and trembled.

  "Did you OD?" I asked, still keeping my distance. He might know my name, he might be wounded, but he had killed a guy sober. If those muscles moved the wrong way on me…

  "The opposite," he said. "I'm coming down."

  His voice creaked as if keeping it on hinges was the hardest thing in the world.

  "Coming down from what?"

  "Biosynthetic," he said. "Classified." His teeth broke out into a chatter, but he forced them tight and mouthed, "Please."

  That was enough. I dropped my bags and rushed in. His hand came rattling loose and his entire body shivered on my cushions. I took his hand in mine with the idea to comfort him, but it was like trying to soothe a rodeo bull. My entire body rattled with his. I settled for a hand over his chest. It seemed to soothe him, though whether for real or for my benefit, I couldn't tell. He actually had on a pair of aviators under the palm covering his eyes. I tried to lift them to see what his pupils could tell me, but he stilled my arm.

  "No, too bright. Too bright."

  I studied his shaking form. Even in this state, he looked impressive, like a tank with cranky threads. I was in way over my head. Even if this was purely medical I didn't have much training in pharmaceuticals. Pets rarely ODed. And they also didn't have the same depth of mental issues that a soldier might have. This could all be in his head.

  "I need to know what you took."

  He looked at me, teeth clenched. Summoning some reserve. "Synthetic adrenaline. Acute dose. Rapid withdrawal."

  "Do you have a sample?"

  "In my spit."

  This didn't make any sense. "You drank some?"

  "My body can produce it."

  This still didn't make sense. Adrenaline was the fight or flight hormone. We could all make it. I'd interned at the clinic in high school. Seen druggies, army guys with PTSD and bullied kids all go through panic attacks. Pumped full of adrenaline. But I'd never seen anything like this. I texted Sandy. She knew more about OD stuff than I did.

  "Quick Q. Acute Adrenaline OD. Treatment?"

  "Huh?" she replied immediately.

  "Quiz Q."

  "Stop Studying!"

  "I will. Just tell me this one first."

  "Beta blockers. Duh."

  "Med name?"

  "What's this for?"

  "Quiz - come on. It's been bugging me all day."

  She texted me a couple compounds I recognized. None that I had in the house. The vet school kept a pretty tight lid on inventory. They only wanted us dealing drugs during school hours.

  Ghost lay trembling. His face turned toward me, but without his eyes, it told me nothing new. I brushed his forehead. He was cold, awfully cold.

  "I have to get your drugs," I said. "I'm going to bike to my school. 40 minutes."

  His hand dove i
nto his pocket and dropped keys to the floor.

  "My chopper... back there." He pointed at the back door.

  His chopper? I picked up the keys. If I shouldn't be driving a car, I really shouldn't be driving his chopper. Though I did know bikes way better than cars. I didn’t want to ride, but I didn’t know how he’d be if I waited 40 minutes.

  I went out the back. I hopped the back fence and came out between the two houses behind ours.

  His bike sat in the empty driveway of a house with an overgrown lawn and a For Sale sign. Whatever condition he had arrived in, he was still thinking tactically. Military, definitely military. And biosynthetic compounds? That sounded like special ops stuff. No it sounded like science fiction.

  I straddled the tan Harley and studied all the knobs and paddles. I gave it a minute to see how my body would react. No panic. Maybe it was the model that made me tell it apart from the sport bike my dad used to ride. The one he and my mom rode to their death. He had taken me on countless drives through the desert before. Before they became outlaw lands, and before Gilsner became a crap fest, it was just beautiful open land begging to be torn through. Near the end, he’d let me take the handlebars pretty often.

  I switched it on. The engine thrummed between my legs and I felt wildly in control of my life. As if anything could now happen. Maybe my brain had just come loose.

  I reared off the drive way, into the road and tried to ease forward. After nearly crashing into a couple parked cars, I was able to slowly set off down the road.

  The route to the clinic was not long when you went direct, but by the time I got there my body rattled as much as Ghost’s had. A couple of other kids in our class stared at me as I shambled shakily into the hospital. They might not even recognize me. Or so I hoped.

  I buzzed myself through to the storage room and searched for the names on my list. Sandy had texted me a half dozen times more but I ignored all of it. To my luck, none were classified as very prone to abuse and weren't behind locks. I stuffed a half dozen animal sized containers into my pocket and stumbled out and left the building before anyone could approach me.

  The bike ride home went smoother and I parked right in my driveway. Neighbors be damned.