Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (Brimstone Lords MC 3)

by Sarah Zolton Arthur

  Call it excitement or hope—what-the-fuck-ever—it’s back in full force. I can’t stop touching her or kissing her. Not now. Not ever. I draw her closer to my back by tugging on her hand wrapped around my neck and lift it to my mouth to drop a kiss on it. “Please, baby. You weigh ninety-five cents soaking wet. I think I can handle you.”

  One foot above the other we begin the climb. Having a woman clinging to my back like a spider monkey really does sap my energy; my muscles burn by the time we reach the final rung.

  Fingers crossed, we pop our heads through the opening in the floor and hope I’d been right about the supplies.

  Fucking A. There’s a pallet of bottled waters. A sleeping bag and a metal box, which, God willing, has nonperishable food.

  Liv swings her leg up from around my waist to push herself off. She lifts her body with her knee and crawls away from the opening to give me space to heft myself onto the floor.

  “Grab yourself a water, baby. Now.”

  She crawls over to the bottles and as she does, the whole lookout sways to the left and right. Not enough for me to worry about it falling, but enough to force me to grip the floorboards so I don’t fall to my death.

  Throwing her arm out to catch me, she shrieks, but even then she’s aware of our predicament enough to shriek in a whisper. The last thing we need is for Houdini to hear her. “We’re good, baby.” I assure her. “It’s rickety, but it’ll hold.” And it will. I’m not lying. Instead of crawling with heavy movements though, I slide my ass across the small space to get to Liv and the sleeping bag and supplies. The gentle slide keeps us from swaying. It’s more of a slight wiggle. Her face shows that her fear, for the time being, has calmed.

  The metal box, as I’d feared, is locked. I pull the switchblade from my pocket, flip it open and begin to pick at the mechanism until the latch springs. There’s a soft cracking sound, the sound of opening a cap from a bottle of water for the first time, then much louder, Liv choking and coughing. Quick to shift, I slap her on the back several slaps to bring up the wayward liquid. “Careful, baby. You’ve hardly had anything in your stomach. Don’t wanna get sick.”

  I know it’s love when she coughs up water, which bursts from her mouth and even out her nose and I still want to fucking kiss her in her wet, nose water T-shirt.

  Liv. Safe for now. Back in my arms. Once her breathing evens out again, I turn to the metal box and flip the lid. Jackpot. There’re canned peaches with the pull tab top, a couple bags of jerky, a can of nuts and pre-wrapped packages of Swiss cake rolls.

  A smorgasbord for the perpetually hungry and malnourished. If he hadn’t been feeding her, the jerky would sit like a lead weight in the bottom of her belly and when we run again, we won’t be able to afford her getting sick. So, jerky out. The cake rolls might be a little rich on an empty stomach. Cake rolls out, too. To get her jumping back in the food pool, I pull open a can of peaches and hand it over. There’re no forks or spoons. “Use your fingers,” I tell her, though she’d already started digging in. “Chew slowly. Don’t overdo it.”

  I would’ve thought she indulged on the most decadent chocolate truffles, not a can of peaches the way she savors them. “You need to rest,” I order. One she needs to heed. She needs to rest, to get some strength back, before we start out again. I roll out the sleeping bag flat for her. “I’ll keep watch.”

  “No,” she protests. Stubborn woman. “Lay next to me. I’ll rest, but I need you, Gage. Hold me until I fall asleep.”

  Lying next to her is the last thing I need to think about. No, what I need is to stay diligent, to keep her safe. But as always, my inability to say no to Liv is my Achilles’ heel. It was my downfall when we were kids, and at the compound when she refused to see a professional counselor. Somehow, I’ve got to get over the power she has on me, though for now she’s got me by the balls, my heart and any other organ she wants to control. Her wish is my command, and she damn well knows it. Which means I lower myself to lay next to her, curling one arm under her head for a pillow and turn her body so her chin rests on my shoulder. She flops a leg over my hip, thigh pressed to my side, and snuggles in.

  Shit. Liv lets out a contented sigh and I’m an asshole for the way my dick twitches in response. She’s been kidnapped and tortured, and my dick, with a mind of its own, wants to play snake in the garden.

  Though it’s what she does next that absolutely guts me in both the best and worst possible ways. “This is what got me through,” she whispers low, then brushes a soft kiss to the bared skin of my neck. “With Michael… and especially Houdini. I pictured myself lying next to you again.

  I could smell you in my mind. Taste you. Feel you in every deep corner of my soul.”

  “Liv, baby.” My voice is strangled. Then I stop because I don’t know what else to say.

  She talks over me as if I hadn’t said a word. “You saved me in that railroad car.” There’re tears with her words. “Memories of the life we’ve shared. Our first kiss, the first time we made love. Aside from the five years after my dad died, we were never apart.”

  “Liv, baby.” I try again. More strangled than before.

  “You were supposed to be Raif’s best friend, but in reality, you were mine. Always. Always mine. And I knew, Gage. I knew I couldn’t leave you alone.” Her tears fall harder. God damn, there’re fucking prickles at the backs of my eyes. “Who else would know what crackers you like for snack dinner? Or where to lock her arms and rest her chin while you ride, her on the back of your bike? Who else would know you like the skin under your balls massaged when her mouth is on you?”

  “Nobody, baby.” I feel every word she’s said. “Nobody else would know that, and they never will.”

  “Always mine,” she repeats.

  “Always yours, Liv.” Though my words sound guttural, they come from the heart. I hear her breathing even out and look down to see she’s fallen asleep in my arms. “Always yours,” I promise her again as I kiss her temple.

  The tower sways gently from the breeze. It’s an open space with half walls of raw particle board and tall beams at the corners to hold the roof in place; a full beam centers on each wall for additional support and framing out what looks like was supposed to have windows but had never been finished.

  Whoever erected this place took the time to make the tower legs blend in with the tree trunks, and the lookout to mix with the treetops and sky. We should be far enough away for Houdini not to find us yet, but if by chance he gets close, hopefully, his eyes will move right past our location.

  I set my gun close enough to grab if need be and spend the next several hours relishing the feel of the woman I love in my arms. There’s a future before us, I can see it. Feel it.

  So comfortable, I kiss her head once more, then I fucking, fucking fall asleep.

  17.

  Livvy

  The first good sleep I’ve had since Michael took me, I wake up cocooned by Gage. Even in sleep, he uses his body to protect mine.

  I stretch even as I try not to wake him. Everything I told him last night was the truth. Each truth he not only earned the right to hear but deserved to.

  We need to move. Staying out here any longer than necessary, even hidden inside a lookout, exposes us to greater danger until Houdini is caught. We haven’t had cell service for hours and his battery is almost dead.

  He looks so peaceful in sleep. Golden waves fallen to hide his closed eyes. He makes it hard to resist touching him, if only to swipe the hair back and get to feel the silky smooth strands. But as I reach to him, the lookout begins to sway. Gentle at first, like from when a breeze hits it, just before a voice breaks the absolute silence.

  My body goes rigid even as it shakes. Shoot—shit—shoot. God, I think I might pee myself. How I have the wherewithal to peek down and not expose my location at the same time, I’ll never know.

  Shorter than Houdini, he has less strength and power about him, sporting head-to-toe camo. There’s a rifle slung over his shoulder. The thing
pressed to his ear is tinier than Gage’s smartphone and has an obvious signal, judging by the thick, blunt antenna and that he’s talking on it, so it’s stronger than his too—which means it has to be of those sat phones.

  If we could get our hands on that sat phone.

  Closing my eyes, I breathe in, swallow the mouthful of saliva filling up and threatening to drown me, open my eyes and take a chance.

  “Hey,” I call down to him. His body jerks on the rungs. He hadn’t noticed me yet. Though without voicing a goodbye, he shoves the phone into his front pocket.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” he says, raising an eyebrow like he thinks he’s some sort of Casanova able to seduce me with a glance. I get the feeling he doesn’t have my best interests in mind.

  His smarmy voice coats my skin in a slick fear. “Come out so I can see you,” he orders.

  “No. Stop. Please, I just… Can I use your phone?”

  Behind me, Gage stirs awake. I feel him pressed to my back though he stays quiet. The squeeze to my hips is my assurance he’s listening to our exchange, ready to pounce if need be. I guess that’s another benefit of living the club life. Most men would speak first, a ‘good morning’ or ‘hey baby’. But not Gage, on alert; taking in his surroundings first.

  The stranger smiles, showing all his teeth. “I do something for you, what’ll you do for me?”

  What is wrong with this guy? “I’m stranded and you want to coerce sex from me?”

  “Tit for tat, little lady. I have the tat you want. Guess what you have that I want?”

  He keeps climbing.

  “I’m not having sex with you to use your phone. You aren’t going to touch me.” My voice quivers at the end. Dammit. I want to sound strong. Confident. I’m tired of asshole men thinking they can hurt me just because they’re men.

  He laughs at me. Laughs. His head turns from the left to right, then his eyes land on me again. One handed, he swings the rifle strap so the butt rests against his ribs and his finger moves to the trigger.

  “Who’s going to stop me?”

  Gage shoves me out of the way, takes aim and shoots. “I am, fucker.”

  It happens just that fast. The man’s eyes go wide for a split second at the sound of the Glock. Wide just before his body slumps and falls to the earth below.

  I should be horrified. Gage killed a man. Killed him right before my eyes.

  But he was going to hurt me.

  And once he saw Gage, that asshole would have tried to kill him first. I have no doubt.

  The pool of blood forming under the man doesn’t affect me as much as I think it should. Maybe I’m becoming too hardened. Maybe I’m too tainted to feel empathy any longer.

  But this guy might have a family out there somewhere, waiting for him to come home.

  Maybe he’s only a gun-toting potential rapist on the weekends. Like the army reserve, but for psychopaths.

  “Stop.” Gage’s authority tears my attention away from the body. “He used his gun for intimidation and all but said the actual words that he planned on raping you. It was him or us, and no matter what happens to me, it’ll never be you.”

  How does he know what I’m thinking at every turn?

  And he’s right.

  “I love you, Gage.”

  “Always yours, Liv. Love you, too.” He slides his hand around to cup the side of my head and pull me close enough to drop a kiss to my hair. “Grab waters. I got the jerky. Then we gotta jet. No way of knowing if he’s expecting company.”

  As directed, I grab up a couple of water bottles, but without pants, so lacking pockets, Gage plucks them from my hand before we make the descent down the ladder to stow in his waistband. Rustling from behind the trees brings our decline to an abrupt halt. Scavengers. Probably wolves. They’ve sniffed him out already.

  I see their beady eyes follow our every movement and it’s unnerving to feel stalked. I mean, I never knew Michael was there until he was. But this, I can feel it. And it gives me major willies.

  Gage helps me off the ladder so not to end up barefooted in blood. The scavengers begin to inch closer. Definitely wolves. He divests the man of his rifle since he no longer needs it. He searches his pockets until he finds the sat phone and lastly, removes the man’s boots.

  “They’ll be huge on you,” Gage says as he slips the first one on my foot. It’s covered in blood spatter. I have to look away, to swallow hard, reminding myself to keep breathing so I don’t end up vomiting all over Gage. “But you won’t be running around the forest barefoot.”

  Once the second boot is tied, we back away from the direction of the scavengers. “Have at it,” Gage offers, gesturing them toward the body with a wave of his hand. Though we don’t wait around to watch the carnage.

  Far enough away, we pause for Gage to get a lock on our geographic coordinates, then he pulls up the map so we know where we’re headed. Phone to ear, he places a call next. “It’s Gage,” he says into the receiver. Several head nods, as if whomever he’s talking to can see him. Then there’s a “Shit.”

  Well, that doesn’t sound real promising. What now?

  “Making plans, then?” he asks. “We’ll call for a pickup when we hit civilization. Oh, and we’ll need a cleanup.” Pause then, “Yeah, I’ll text you the coordinates. Wait ’till we’re with you before you call someone in.”

  And that’s it.

  When he grabs my hand to continue walking, at least I feel like we have a real direction now and aren’t just wandering around waiting for Houdini to find us. It gets darker in the thick of trees before it gets lighter and I know we’re getting close to something. Wearing the boots has helped our speed, makes it easier for me to get around.

  Since we left the lookout, something has been weighing on my mind pretty heavily. When finally I can’t take it any longer, I tug on Gage’s hand to get him to slow.

  “Whatcha need, baby?” he asks.

  “You asked for a cleanup.” It’s a statement more than a question.

  “I did,” he replies. Gage uses his boot to kick a broken tree branch that’s fallen to the ground out of our path so I don’t trip on it.

  “We have his phone. Can’t they—that is, what if he’s reported missing? Won’t they check his phone records? Can’t they trace the call you made back to us?”

  “Mm…” he says, but keeps us walking. “They could. But you know I carry a burner phone, right?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “All the brothers do. We each have at least one brother’s burner phone number memorized. I memorized Boss’s. Once they pick us up, he’ll discard that phone for a new one. Then I’ll have to memorize that number or someone else’s.”

  “That seems like a lot of work.”

  “Yeah, it is. But you know we take care of our own. Sometimes that means being on the wrong side of the law. This provides us a little peace of mind.”

  Well, I can’t argue with that logic. I should know better than to question him by now. He takes care of me. He always takes care of me, I mean, when I don’t do stupid thing to sabotage his care. Prison would definitely get in the way of his ability to do so.

  I lean in to kiss his cheek, and let the subject go.

  Hours must pass, or at least it feels like hours before we see the first break in the trees and a road. A road. Not made of dirt, but an actual paved two-lane road.

  “Hallelujah,” I whisper and watch as Gage turns his face toward me wearing an endearing half-smile. Here we are, running from Houdini, we took the life of a potential rapist—and yet he’s still able to smile. He’s still able to get my heart beating.

  When I have the chance to catch my breath, it’ll all probably come crashing down on me. The kidnapping, abuse, torture. But I vow, vow to get help this time, even if I don’t feel like I need it.

  The tug on my hand pulls me to the left. Apparently, that’s the direction we’re supposed to take. Oh, and the sun feels so good after spending all that time in the cold shade. Bathing,
basking in the rays. Soaking in the UV rays.

  Once again he pulls the sat phone and dials. He gives the coordinates, then hangs up. “We keep walking, they’ll meet us. Leaving now.”

  I could be manic, as giddy as I feel at the thought of the brothers coming to our rescue.

  And I begin to laugh. Gage pins me with a ‘what?’ look.

  “I want to go home. When this is done, I want to go home, Gage.”

  “Okay. We’ll go home.”

  “No, you don’t understand, not to Smithfield, but home. With you and Raif, Elise, Boss, Trish and Maryanne. I want to go back to our family.”

  Despite walking down the center of the road in the middle of nowhere, Gage stops us to turn me in his arms and kiss the shit out of me. Though he wraps one arm high and one low, both pushing on the lash marks still marring my back. I wince but hold in the verbal reaction because I don’t want him to stop kissing me.

  Well, as long as I’m in the sharing mood, when we begin moving again, holding his hand, swinging our arms and growing somewhat nervous for no real reason, I put it out there for him. “Babe?”

  He smiles his response.

  “You wouldn’t want to marry me, would you?”

  We’re never finding civilization at this point. Not when he stops midstride to turn to me again. “Did you just ask me to marry you?”

  “Yes?”

  “Fucking hell, Liv. I’ve wanted to marry you my whole life.”

  “So to be clear, that’s a yes?”

  “For fuck’s sake, woman. Yes, it’s a yes!”

  I slowly let out the breath I’d had no reason to hold. “Good. That’s good. I don’t want to wait. Do you…want to wait?”

  “Baby, if a pastor popped out of the woods, I’d marry you right now just the three of us in attendance.”

  My heart feels lighter, freer.

  Gradually, our steps eat away at the pavement until we come up on a crossroads. There’s a white van heading our way. Gage sighs and gives another one of his gorgeous Gage smiles. “Finally,” he says, which I guess means they’re with us.