I let out a sharp of laughter. “Diversify?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Said so yourself earlier, girl, you gotta do some things you don’t wanna do if you wanna make money. At least it’s not getting in bed as a money launderer, right?”
The only problem, though, was where I could get the money to diversify my business and save it. I sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”
I glanced up at the time on the old clock hanging from the wall. “But, hey, I told Richard I was going to be leaving soon. So, doom and gloom aside, I should probably get going.”
She pushed back from the desk with a long, weary sigh. “I’m sorry I had to be the one to break the news to you, Jess.”
I went to stand, shook my head. “Why be sorry? It’s better to know ahead of time than it is to find out when the rent check doesn’t clear, right? This just helps me plan ahead, that’s all, and maybe save some heartache.
“What are you planning on doing?” she asked as I came around and grabbed my purse from desk’s bottom drawer.
“Sleep on it?” I asked with a weary laugh. “But, for real, I don’t know.”
She got up from the desk and went around to the other side, scooped up her purse and slung it over shoulder.
“Right now,” I continued, “I have to deal with Richard trying to put me in a safe house, and all this other craziness. I mean, hell, the way things are going I might not even have to worry about rent.”
She frowned from the doorway as I came around, purse in one hand, keys in the other. She threw her arms wide and, without warning, pulled me into a big hug. She held me like that for a moment. “Well, when everything else is figured out,” she said, “I’ll still be here to help you. Okay?”
I nodded, smiled tightly. “Yeah, I know. You’re a good friend, Sheila. You know that?”
She smiled wide. “I try.”
She left the gallery first, but I hung back for a moment to make sure all the lights and electronics were powered down. That done, I stood there at the front door, just looking forlornly at the most solid thing tying me to Enchanted Rock. With the lights off, it looked like an empty room, a place that had once held the hopes and dreams of a twenty-something girl who’d come back to her home town with a head full of ambition, but no know-how.
Maybe I should take the money? Sheila had said so herself, the Curious Turtle was just going to close down eventually anyways without a cash infusion. If Wyatt Axelrod bought me out he’d at least be able to keep the space, and Enchanted Rock would still have an art gallery to call its own. Sure, it’d be used for laundering dirty money, but at least it would be open this time next year, which meant some of the artists who partially depended on my gallery to move their artwork would be able to feed their own families.
I just slowly shook my head. I didn’t know the answer on how to get out of this, and I wasn’t sure if anyone else did either.
Chapter Twenty-two
Richard
Jessica came walking out of the Curious Turtle about five minutes earlier than she’d predicted, but I was ready with the keys in the ignition as soon as she set foot outside the front door. She climbed into her little Volkswagen, adjusted a few things, then pulled away from the curb and merged with traffic. I merged right along behind her, leaving about fifty feet or more between us, and followed her out onto the highway that led to her little cabin on the outskirts of town.
Traffic died away as we left city limits. I say traffic, of course, but what we have in Enchanted Rock is nothing compared to any actual city. Here, it’s a few cars, a handful of old clunkers, and some really nice sports cars and SUVs that belong to the ultra wealthy who live in the surrounding area. I guess I could afford one of them, but I figured why bother. This old Jeep Wrangler was more than I’d ever needed. It could get me through the gorgeous weather, like today, and through the snows of winter.
I kept a decent distance between us, not feeling that I needed to rush.
But, as drove I behind her, taking my time, I heard the motorcycle engines rumbling behind me, roaring as they gunned their engines to catch up. I glanced in the rear view mirror, saw five bikes as they came rolling up on my tail. All men, all wearing the same black leather vests I’d seen earlier on Wyatt Axelrod. I couldn’t see what was on the back, but I’d put real money on it being a skull and crossed bones.
“Shit,” I breathed, my eyes flickering forward to watch Jessica as she turned a bend in the road, disappearing from view behind a rocky outcropping. “Shit, shit, shit.”
The engine noise rose as one of the bikers revved his engine and swung out into oncoming traffic. No one was coming, unfortunately, and he pulled up level with me on his chopper. He was a big, burly looking dude, with a beard that would have made a bear blush. He looked over towards me, pointed a blunted, gnarled finger right at me and nodded.
I seriously considered just side-swiping the guy, but figured that would send him right over the side and down into a gully. In a car he’d be dead from a crash like that, but on a bike it would be even worse. Hell, even if we weren’t in Colorado, I’d still have killed him with that stunt. And I’d already escalated this situation enough with kicking their president’s ass. I didn’t need to kill one of them.
Instead, I just shook my head.
He grinned and nodded in response, stabbed the same finger at his chest, then at me again.
I sighed, rolled my eyes. Clearly, he wanted to fight. But, this time, outside city limits. I didn’t like leaving Jessica like this, having her head home to the cabin alone, but what else could I do? Drag the whole gang of guys out to her place? Well, of course I could. If they decided to fight me there, then they decided to fight me there. At least Jessica would be with her dogs. Maybe Eli could offer some form of protection.
No, I decided, I needed to stay with her. That’s what I was being paid for, not to have fights on the side of the road with an outlaw biker gang, even if they were threatening my client’s life in some way.
The biker revved his engine again, the roar ripping through the mountain side like an angry bull, snapping me out of my thoughts and back to the present.
I just couldn’t do it, no matter how much I wanted to kick that smug look off his face. I locked eyes with him, shook my head again.
“Pussy,” he mouthed.
I snorted. Unbelievable.
He gestured to the rest of the guys behind me, and suddenly their bikes were all roaring as they opened up and raced ahead of me.
At first I thought I knew what they were doing. They were trying to just bypass me and get to Jessica. I gunned the Jeep, sending it barreling ahead like a freight train. But, then I realized what they were really doing as they swung around.
All five of the bikes, in nearly a solid line across both lanes of the highway, put on their brakes.
“Shit!” I yelled as I slammed on my own, stomping hard, locking the wheels so I skidded forward. I did it on instinct, nothing more. What I should have done, though, was slam my foot down on the gas, press the pedal to the metal, and just keep going.
The smell of burnt rubber filled the cab of the Jeep as I cut the wheel to the right, trying to avoid them by nudging towards the shoulder. I came to a shrieking halt, my Jeep lurching as I slammed forward in the seat and rebounded back into the seat.
The two bikes that were facing oncoming traffic pulled their bikes up in front of their buddies’ hogs, and all five men swung their legs off their rides and began to approach.
“Just you and me, handsome!” the lead rider shouted as he stopped about five feet from my Jeep. “No one else!”
I could take him. I’d taken down bigger guys than him on a boring Saturday night when I was back in my bouncer days.
But, still, my thoughts were on Jessica. Why had they cut me off like this? What was their plan?
Chapter Twenty-three
Jessica
I didn’t think anything of it when Richard disappeared from my rear view mirror.
He’d been hanging back a little ways behind me anyways as we took the twists and turns going round the mountain, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary with him not coming back into view immediately.
What did seem out of the ordinary, though, was the big truck that seemingly appeared out of nowhere!
It was a hulking old Chevy, painted flat black like someone had gotten carried away with the spray can. It came trundling out of nowhere, getting right on my tail like it was in love with me. The pickup loomed behind him, filling my rear mirror like it was trying to get me to pull over so it could pass. They were right on my rear bumper, so close I couldn’t even see the driver’s face.
I figured it was just some jackass. We had as many of them in these mountains as any other place on the planet, and some people are just assholes. They weren’t having any of it. Freaked out, I tried to wave it by again, my arm frantically going. There wasn’t any oncoming traffic, and they had plenty of room to pass me if they wanted.
Instead, the driver just laid on their horn, blaring it over the music on my radio.
Really freaked out now, I waved more fervently.
The pickup’s engine roared like a lion as they gassed it, pulled out beside me. A shadow seemed to fall over my car, cloaking me like a sinister cape as the truck came closer to the driver side door, the roar of its heavy treaded tires singing on the highway as swerved towards me, stopping just inches away from the driver side door.
Sudden fear gripped my heart. I slammed on the brakes, not knowing what else to do. Where was Richard? Who was this truck? Was it the Skull and Bones?
The truck slammed on its brakes, swerved into my car, the crunch of metal on metal filling my world as the steering wheel lurched out of my hands.
I screamed as I tried to get control of the wheel, as I tried to keep myself in the lane.
The pickup pulled away again, slammed into my little Jetta once more. My car lurched to the right, my tires smoking as tears began to stream down my face.
I kept my foot on the brakes, the only thing I could think to do, and drove up onto the minuscule shoulder. I screamed again, tried to think of what to do, but my brain was panicking and no ideas came. Should I try and run?
My car’s tires threw up gravel, peppering the underside with rocks and pebbles as my wheels slowed to a halt just as I hit the mountain side guard rail. I coasted a little further, my eyes tracking a big rock. My car thunked again, loudly, and lurched up into the air before coming back down again. Thank God it wasn’t the other side! I’d be over a cliff, down into the pines below if I’d been over there.
Up ahead, the truck came to a stop, its tail lights like the eyes of Satan himself. I saw a hand reach up, adjust the rear view mirror.
What were they doing? I couldn’t tell. I just knew I was out here on this stretch of road, all alone, just me and them. Even during the day it wasn’t frequently traveled. All sorts of things could happen here, and I wouldn’t have anyone to help me.
My breath came hot and ragged, burning my lungs with each exhale. This was it. My stalkers, the Skull and Bones, they’d gotten me separated from my protection.
I watched as the reverse light popped on, bright white and blazing against those hellish tail lights, a New Mexico plate on the rear bumper.
Panicked, I looked back behind me, threw my car in reverse. I’d run. That’s what I’d do! I began to pull my car out, return the way I’d come.
Then, just as suddenly as it had all begun, the black pickup shifted gear back to drive, and the rear tires squealed like a duet of angry banshees as it took off down the road in a fishtail.
My heart still pumping like I’d taken a double black diamond slope at breakneck speed, my face perspiring like I’d just hiked ten miles uphill, I watched in disbelief as the dark as pitch pickup disappeared down the highway.
As it left, I realized the why of its leaving. Another car, an old silver Mustang, came barreling around the corner, zipping past me with a burbling of its smooth engine.
Though the driver didn’t come to my aid, I still breathed a sigh of relief at my savior’s unlikely passing. Because, even if Richard wasn’t around, at least the pickup wasn’t either.
Chapter Twenty-four
Richard
This was it. There was no getting by these guys unless I wanted to run them down in my Jeep, and I knew it.
The big, burly biker who’d pulled up beside me first now stood in the middle of the line of Skull and Bones riders. Coming in at at least six-five, Big Bear towered over his compatriots, which was pretty impressive in and of itself. He probably have a hundred pounds on me, too, and looked to be solid muscle through and through. Where Wyatt Axelrod had a little bit of paunch around his waist, though, Big Bear had at least a keg of solid mass.
“Don’t worry, buddy,” Big Bear called as I sat there on the road. “You wanna turn this into a shooting war, we’ll be more than happy to oblige. Otherwise, you can come right out here and fight me like a goddamn man.”
I could turn this into a shooting war, I realized. They were armed, clearly, and they were threatening me. No court in the world would find me guilty for defending my life and property. But, I still didn’t think it would fix anything. Instead, I opened up my door and, gun held in the air with my finger clearly away from the trigger, I stepped out onto the lonely highway.
“What do you want from me?” I asked, pistol still in hand. “Trying to get me away from the girl?”
“The girl? What girl? I wanna fight you, you fucking dumb ass,” Big Bear called. “Wanna show you what the fuck you get for sucker punching a Bonesman.”
“Sucker punch?” I asked, a little shocked. “Come on, I didn’t fucking sucker punch the guy. He swung first for fuck’s sake. How’d I sucker punch him?”
“You calling our president a fucking liar? That what you’re doing?”
Well, that hadn’t worked. “Fine. Whatever. You guys gonna leave if I beat your ass?”
“What makes you so sure you’ll beat it?” Big Bear asked.
I sighed. Guys like this were always the most frustrating. But, they also tended to be the ones you could take down the easiest. “Fine,” I said. “Let’s do this.” I took my gun, ejected the clip, cleared the chamber. I stuffed the clip in my pocket and tossed the empty gun on my driver seat. “You want any rules or anything?” I asked. “Like no fish hooks, eye-gouging, all that?”
“Come on, fucker,” he called as he brought his fists up in front of his face and rolled his shoulders to loosen them up. “Happy hour’s going, and I ain’t got all day.”
I slammed the Jeep’s door shut and thumbed my nose, spit to the side. Okay, if things went bad, or worse I guess, there was one of me and five of them. They all looked pretty rough around the edges, which meant they probably knew how to fight, and how to fight dirty. Keep my face covered, cushion my head if they knocked me to the ground, support my kidneys. As a shifter, I healed fast, but I could still be knocked unconscious if I wasn’t careful.
I could work with this. After all, I only had Big Bear to deal with, right? And, as soon as I stomped him into the ground, I could get back on the road and make sure Jessica was alright. I marched up to him, fists at my side. “You know I don’t want to do this,” I told him.
“Fight me?”
“More like kick your ass, but sure, whatever makes you feel better.”
A big toothy grin broke his coal black beard as we shuffled towards each other, keeping our stances tight and firm, our heads down low and behind our fists.
He swung first, a fast right jab that came hard. I sidestepped and blocked, jabbed him in the ribs with my own right. He barely reacted, slammed into my jaw with his left before I could get away.
Stars burst behind my eyes as my steps faltered a little, and I stumbled back from him. “Guess you’re a lefty,” I said as I touched my smarting chin. I couldn’t take many of those, even with my faster than normal healing, and I knew it.
“Guessed right, assho
le,” he said, urging me forward with a wave of his hand as his biker buddies cheered and jeered behind him.
Damn, that had been one hell of a rightie earlier, though. This guy hit like a freight train rolling downhill at ten times the OSHA approved safety limit. I needed to rethink my strategy here.
Before I could, though, he was back on me like the prom king on his date, his hands everywhere , moving fast. His buddies urged him on, their voices loud and raucous on the stretch of empty road, echoing off the barren cliff face beside us.
I knew I didn’t have a chance in a straight up boxing match with this guy. He outweighed me and out reached me. Every time I’d try to hit him, he’d be able to block me or counterpunch me into next week. So, I took a different tack. On defense now, I blocked almost all his swings, no counters. Each one hit like a truck as I desperately tried to find an opening, a way to try and get to him. I was too busy blocking, though, to get back on the attack.
I could tell Big Bear was already getting out of breath.
Any kind of fight takes it out of you, and if you’re not specifically training for endurance, you’re not going to last long. Peter made us run with the sand bag every weekend though. Sprint up the hill with the seventy-five pound bag in your arms, throw it to the ground, wrestle and punch it like your life depends on it, grab the bag and sprint some more. Repeat ad nauseum, literally. He doesn’t let up till we’re puking in the pine needles, swearing to him how much we hate him between gasps.
Beads of sweat stood out on Big Bear’s forehead, and his lungs were already pushing to the max. I had a sneaking suspicion that he hadn’t had a fight last this long in quite a while, and had never thought to really train for it. He gasped for another breath, swung again. This time, his punch had a lost some of that notable oomph from before.
Finally, I did what he’d never expect. Not with a guy so much smaller than him, even though I was pretty damn big in my own right. I rushed him, head down, wrapped my arms around his waist.
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