by Radclyffe
The lights in the cell never went off, and a few hours after the third meal, Jennifer lay down on the bed and pulled the covers up to shield her face. Fast-forwarding, Cam noted she slept for almost six hours before waking. She suspected Jennifer had a very precise inner clock, as did most highly trained field agents. Jennifer then washed up in the tiny sink and stretched out on the tile floor to exercise. For exactly one hour. Cam timed her.
Nothing in any of the tapes indicated Jennifer’s resolve was weakening. Cam hit Stop and stood. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” the guard said, diligently injecting enthusiasm into his voice as if trying to convince her he wasn’t bored by his assignment. On the other hand, maybe he welcomed the low-stress post.
The older guard, a taciturn balding man, guided Cam through the maze of hallways to the familiar interrogation room. A few moments later, he escorted Jennifer, once again shackled at the wrists, into the room. Despite the fact that Jennifer was no real physical threat, Cam said nothing while the guard secured Jennifer’s restraints to the table. She wanted to reinforce Jennifer’s complete helplessness, to remind Jennifer she was a captive and completely at the will of her captors. Namely, Cam.
“I thought we’d finish our conversation about Idaho,” Cam said.
Jennifer regarded her steadily. What hadn’t shown in the video was the gleam of absolute fervor in her eyes. She might be a captive, but her devotion to whatever cause sustained her was unflagging. “I wasn’t aware we were having a conversation.”
Cam smiled. “It was a bit one-sided. I was hoping today you might be more communicative.”
“I have nothing to say to you except to remind you that you can’t keep me here without representation. It’s against—”
“About that,” Cam said softly, leaning forward, encroaching on the limited personal space the length of Jennifer’s chains afforded her. “You are a terrorist. You have no rights. You forfeited those rights when you decided to attack the government that protects them.”
For the briefest instant, shock dulled Jennifer’s eyes. Fear doused the flames of her fanaticism. Just as quickly, her expression became completely blank, as if she had shuttered every emotion. She had been trained not to respond to threats, physical or emotional, but even the most rigorous training could not obliterate the involuntary responses buried deep in the animal brain. When threatened with extermination, every animal would run or fight. Cam wanted to force Jennifer into doing one or the other.
“On the other hand,” Cam said casually, as if she were having a conversation with a trusted friend, “I’m in the position to make your life much more comfortable. I’m sure there are people who are worried about you. People you’d like to contact. Friends.” Cam paused. “Family.”
Again, Jennifer attempted to control her responses, and she was very, very good. But her pupils widened and constricted just enough to signal she’d experienced a surge of adrenaline at the suggestion of making contact with those close to her. Jennifer undoubtedly functioned in some sort of subunit, a terrorist cell isolated from the larger group—and she was waiting for them to find her.
“Do you really expect them to come for you?” Cam laughed and waved a hand around the room. “In a place like this? And just how do you expect that to happen?”
“Do you honestly expect me to tell you?” Jennifer made no attempt to hide her disdain.
“Not in so many words.” Cam checked her watch. “I have a plane to catch to Boise.” She looked up, caught Jennifer’s stare. This time Jennifer failed to hide her hatred. “I’ll tell Angela Jones you send your best.”
“I don’t know Angela Jones,” Jennifer said flatly.
“No? You probably know her by another name. One of your school friends, I’d wager. And I’m sure there are others who know your name and hers. How many homeschooled children do you think went on to higher education from Idaho? The information is there, Jennifer. We’ll find it.” Cam stood. “And when we do, we’ll find your leader.”
“I hope you do,” Jennifer said vehemently. “Because he’ll kill you.”
Cam was much better at controlling her emotions than Jennifer, and her satisfaction didn’t show. But she had her confirmation. Jennifer and Angela were connected, and she was headed in the right direction.
She leaned forward, her palms flat on the table, her body looming over Jennifer’s. “I sincerely hope he tries.”
*
The trip to the motel for Sky’s scant belongings didn’t take very long. On the way back, they stopped at the bar to pick up Loren’s bike. When they returned to Loren’s shop, Loren disappeared into the garage, and Sky put away her things on an empty shelf in the cubbies. The sound of an engine revving in the garage told her Loren was tuning up the bike for the seven-hundred-mile trip to Reno. At least they were heading south where it might be a little warmer.
The New Year’s run was legendary. Bikers gathered to party and welcome in the New Year, and to have an excuse to consume excessive amounts of alcohol, gamble, and generally indulge in various forms of debauchery. In addition, the national club leaders used the occasion to remind the chapter presidents of their authority. Like the lords of old calling their earls to the castle for a great feast and vows of fealty, the national president and his inner circle reminded those who were not performing well that they could be replaced. No one missed the run if they wanted to maintain their status in the organization.
Sky didn’t need to pack much. Follow trucks, filled with gear and spare parts, were driven by prospects who would accompany the members on their bikes. After packing a change of clothes and some personal items in a backpack, she left the pack on the bed and wandered into the shop. Loren crouched by the bike, tinkering with the engine. In a dark T-shirt, jeans, and biker boots, she looked enticingly tough and tremendously sexy.
Loren glanced in Sky’s direction. “Hey.”
Sky leaned against the nearby counter. “Hi. How’s it going?”
Loren stood, set the tool aside, and dusted off her hands. “Just killing time. Everything looks good. What about you?”
Sky debated not telling her. At any other time, with any other operative, she wouldn’t have given it a thought. But keeping Loren in the dark was getting harder and harder to do. “We had a potential problem, but it should be handled.”
Loren frowned. “What?”
“My original plan was to be here a few days, make contact with you, and provide backup from behind the scenes. Now that’s changed, and I don’t want to chance running into Dougie in Reno.”
“Fuck. There’s no reason to think we will—there’ll be a few hundred members there, but if Ramsey drags us into a meeting with Jerome, it’s possible we could cross paths.” Loren paced. “It’s dangerous for you to be there.”
“I know that.” Sky anticipated Loren’s next statement. “And I know what you’re going to say, and I’m not staying behind.” She held up a hand when Loren took a step forward, her expression darkening. “But it’s handled. I called my ATF counterpart from the car on the way back here.”
“To do what?”
“Dougie has an outstanding warrant on a concealed weapons charge in Oregon. No big surprise there. We’ll pick him up on a routine traffic stop and hold him awhile.”
“And you don’t think it’s going to look suspicious if he suddenly gets pulled in during the run?”
Sky laughed. “Why should it? No one’s going to connect him to me, who Jerome has probably already forgotten about, especially when I’m five hundred miles away. We’re just being cautious.”
Loren slid her hands into her back pockets, and with her legs spread wide and her deepening scowl looked every inch the renegade she was. “You take too many chances. I don’t like it.”
“I’ll be fine,” Sky said softly, holding on to the counter on either side of her with both hands. She feared to move when every part of her ached to wrap her fingers around the corded muscles of her biceps, to sweep her palms over the
hard muscles of her chest, press against the hot flame of her body. She swallowed against the desire filling her throat. “You just worry about your own cover, McElroy.”
Loren took two steps closer, and before Sky could jerk away Loren’s hand was in her hair, tethering her in place.
“Or what?” Loren said softly.
Sky slid her arms around Loren’s neck and kissed her. “Or I’ll be pissed.”
“Then it’ll make two of us.”
Loren braced her arms on the counter behind Sky and leaned into her, effectively caging her. She kissed her mouth, her throat, and worked her way down. “You keep making me crazy, and there’s going to be a lot more than a little trouble.”
Sky arched against her, knowing she was losing the battle and not caring. She slid her calf around the back of Loren’s thigh and locked her tight. “I can handle trouble.”
Loren found the bottom of Sky’s tight top and pulled it from her jeans. She was about to slide her hand underneath when Ramsey said from behind them, “Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve got places to be.”
Loren raised her head but didn’t ease away from Sky’s body, glancing over her shoulder at the club president. “Your timing could’ve been better, Prez.”
Ramsey, looking formidable in full leathers, shrugged, his gaze sliding down Sky’s body. “Oh, I don’t know. I’d say my timing was pretty good. A minute later would’ve been even better. Might even been able to lend you a hand.”
When Loren stiffened, Sky dug her fingers into Loren’s back and whispered, “Let it go, Loren.”
Ramsey looked amused, as if enjoying Loren’s temper.
Sky gave Loren a little push and laughed in Ramsey’s direction. “Thanks for the offer, but she’s got excellent hands already.”
His grin widened. “You let me know if that changes.”
“I’ll do that.” Sky nipped at Loren’s lower lip and ran her fingertips down Loren’s tight abs. “Come on, baby. We’ve got us a party to get to.”
Chapter Twenty-four
The strip in Reno was visible from miles away, a glowing oasis blotting out the stars under a mushroom cloud of dusty orange light. The Renegades, fifty strong, roared into town with Ramsey in the lead, Tricia in the bitch seat behind him, and the ranking members following behind in order of hierarchy. Loren rode third in line behind Quincy and Armeo. People on the street stopped to stare.
Sky kept her cheek pressed to the back of Loren’s shoulder to cut down on the windburn, riding with both arms around Loren’s waist. They’d been on the road most of the night before and all afternoon to reach Reno by nightfall. At this moment, the only thing she wanted was to get off the bike and get warm. Despite the black leather chaps Loren had given her, the denim jeans beneath, and her heavy sweater and leather jacket, she was frozen. Her fingertips and toes were numb. The front of her body, though, was warm, and she imagined that was Loren’s heat penetrating the layers between them. Fanciful, perhaps, but her body was convinced of the whimsy. Enough blood still flowed that her clit swelled and pulsed. Involuntarily, she tightened her hold around Loren’s waist, and when Loren’s gloved hand settled over hers, the pulsations turned to pounding. The casual touch might’ve been fingertips dancing along her naked flesh. Pleasure seared through her and she moaned softly into the wind.
“Hold on just another minute or two,” Loren shouted above the roar of the engine throbbing between Sky’s legs.
“I’m all right,” Sky shouted back. Oddly, inconceivably, despite the danger ahead and the insanity of the two-day ride, she’d never felt more all right in her life. When they’d stopped the night before at a roadside motor court and she and Loren had staggered into their room, legs wooden from the cold and hours on the bike, she’d never felt more comfortable in her life. Because she’d been with Loren. They’d fallen onto the bed fully clothed, and sometime in the night when they’d shed their leathers, she had curled up in Loren’s arms, and that’s where she woke midmorning, her head on Loren’s shoulder and Loren’s arm around her waist. Loren’s eyes were open, watching her with lazy privilege, and the heat had flared again.
“We better get something to eat,” Loren finally said, her eyes still on Sky’s. “We’ll hit the road as soon as everyone is up.”
“Why don’t I go see what I can find for breakfast? You worked hard last night getting us here.”
Loren’s arm was loosely clasped around her waist and she stroked the curve of Sky’s back slowly. Sky held very still, wanting the touch, wanting more.
“I’ll shower while you’re gone,” Loren finally said. “Coffee. Bacon and egg sandwich would be great.”
Sky smiled softly. Such a simple thing—bringing breakfast, but the idea gave her pleasure. The intimacy was more poignant than a kiss. All the same, she kissed Loren quickly and smiled again with satisfaction when Loren’s eyes widened in surprise. “Don’t take too long. I’m next.” She slipped away. “And don’t use all the hot water.”
They’d barely had time to eat before the sound of engines revving in the courtyard signaled they were ready to go.
“We’d better get out there,” Loren said. “Ramsey will be kicking in the door if we’re not.”
“I guess the concept of privacy doesn’t extend to him.”
Loren grimaced. “Nothing extends to him. He has absolute power—as long as he can hold on to it by force.”
“And if he can’t?”
“It’s a wolf pack—the strongest rules.”
“Even a woman?”
Loren smiled. “Never been done except in a women-only club, and there are some, but I don’t see why not.”
“You have aspirations?” Sky asked, half-serious. Loren had the physical and mental strength to dominate.
Loren shook her head. “Too visible.” She grabbed her leather jacket. “And I don’t like politics.” She slung an arm around Sky’s shoulder. “Come on, woman. Let’s ride.”
Sky had climbed on behind Loren feeling like the luckiest woman in the club. Three hundred miles later, all she could think about was getting off the bike and into a private room away from prying eyes, taking a hot shower, and finding a change of clothes. Maybe a nap. They’d be expected to party all night, and she’d need to be alert to protect her cover—and Loren’s.
The line of bikes streamed around the corner off the strip and began to fill up a side street next to the Last Chance Casino. Eventually, bikes lined both sides of the small street and everyone climbed off. Loren grabbed her and pulled her close. “Doing all right?”
“I might survive if you can find me a couple of fingers of scotch and a two-inch steak.”
Loren laughed. “That I can handle.”
“What happens now?”
“We wait for Ramsey to sort out the room situation. Supposedly we all have reservations made by national. Doesn’t always work out that way, though. You want to go to the bar first?”
“I want to go anywhere that isn’t outside in the cold.”
“Come on. I’ll find Ramsey later.”
Inside, the usual cacophony of dinging slots and loud voices filled the casino floor. The New Year’s Eve crowds hadn’t yet arrived, and they were able to find standing room at the bar. The scotch burned with a delicious bite, warming Sky all the way down. She sighed. “That is so much better.”
Loren swallowed a quarter of a mug of beer. “About tonight—stick close to me and keep a low profile. I don’t want people remembering your face—or wondering who you are.”
“Don’t worry. There’s going to be so much going on, no one’s going to be paying attention to us. We’ll pretend to be having a wonderful time, and maybe if we’re lucky, we can sneak away before dawn.”
“I might get pulled away—a lot of chapter business gets done here behind the scenes. With this big deal coming up, you never know.”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
Loren’s eyes darkened. “Sorry. But I do.”
The intensity of her
words struck Sky like a fist. Dan was always worrying, fretting about her whenever she went into the field. His concern had never really registered with her, but Loren’s did. That Loren cared what happened to her made her feel special in a way she never had and never thought she needed. Sky hooked her fingertips inside the wide strap of Loren’s black leather chaps and tugged her forward by the heavy silver buckle. Loren’s hard thighs collided with hers. “You know what?”
“What?” Loren’s voice was husky, her black eyes blazing.
“I won’t do anything crazy if you don’t.”
Loren smiled, a crooked smile that made her look impossibly handsome. “You ask a lot.”
“I know.”
Loren cupped Sky’s jaw with the palm of her hand. “I liked you behind me on the bike today.”
“I liked being there.” Sky brushed her fingers over Loren’s lower lip. “But I better warn you—don’t get used to it.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I don’t plan on riding in the bitch seat forever. I expect my own bike if I’m going to be your old lady.”
Loren’s smile widened. “Optimistic.”
“Always.”
Ramsey was suddenly beside them, his hand clamped hard on Loren’s shoulder. “There you are.” He dangled a keycard in front of Loren. “Thought you might want this. Room 2010.”
Without taking her eyes off Sky, Loren plucked the card from his hand. “Perfect timing again.”
Ramsey smiled down at Sky. “See you later?”
