by Anna Mara
Some of the bikers snickered at the lewd comment, while they all kept staring at her like a pack of hungry wolves would at a baby lamb that had just innocently trotted into their midst.
“Maybe she’s a cop?” one of them piped up.
A deadly murmur rippled through the room. Tori glanced back at Savage. He was just looking at her, his eyes flat and cold.
Suddenly, a faint smile flitted across his lips. “She’s mine, assholes,” he drawled, before turning his dangerous orbs back on her. His smile ended. “Bitch, I thought I told you to stay the fuck home! What the fuck are you doing here?” he roared at her.
Tori gasped at the outburst directed at her. No one—but no one—in her entire life had ever spoken to her like that and it shocked the hell out of her! She could even feel the violence radiating off of him.
For a second, she was speechless, not knowing how to respond to his anger; and then a fuse lit into her, as a surge of outrage coursed through her. How dare he speak to her like that!
“Listen, you—”
“Did I fucking give you permission to speak, bitch? No! So, shut the fuck up!”
Tori took in all of the evil faces looking her way. Some were even nodding their approval at how Savage was treating her. Cold fury shot through her and she swiveled her angry eyes back to Savage’s cold face.
And that’s when she saw it! His eyes blinked three times in rapid succession. The gesture told her everything she needed to know. It told her to play along and follow his lead because they were in a shitload of trouble. If they were to get out of this alive, she had to do exactly what he told her.
Her brain went into overdrive, computing the situation at warp speed. “Can I say something, please, Savage?” She addressed him in a softer, subservient tone and he nodded. “I thought you were…partying…with your other sluts, so I followed you.”
“Does it look like I’m partying?” he bellowed.
Her furtive eyes darted around the room, taking in all of the interested, curious looks being directed her way before they returned to Savage’s cold face. Play along, play along, play along, play along! The mantra reverberated in her brain over and over. “No.”
“This is business, bitch! And you don’t fuck up my business. You’re in for a beating when we get home, so you’ll remember for next time. Now, get your ass over here,” he decreed.
Tori went to step towards him when the fat biker who had caught her outside clamped his hand on her arm again, preventing her movement. “Hold up, Savage.” He laughed again. “This one’s a real tasty morsel, all fresh and juicy-like. We’re all brothers here, and brothers share.”
His dirty fingernails bit into her flesh, giving credence to the fact that he wanted her for himself and wasn’t letting go anytime soon. All at once, another deadly silence permeated the dank room. As one, the bikers held their breaths, probably curious to see how this latest standoff between the two would resolve itself.
Savage’s mouth curved into a superior grin. “Sorry, Stitch, that’s my property you got your fat, fucking fingers on and I don’t like other people touchin’ my things. I’m kinda funny that way. So, I suggest you let her go now.”
Stitch’s laughing smirk evaporated as the rival biker’s threat was received loud and clear. “And if I don’t? What are you gonna do about it—motherfucker?”
Savage threw him a disarming grin. Then, quick as a bolt of lightning, he grabbed the older biker beside him around his throat with his arm, putting him into a chokehold before whipping out his Glock pistol and shoving it against the man’s temple.
“I’m gonna splatter your fearless leader’s brains all over your freshly, painted walls. That’s what I’m gonna do about it—motherfucker.” He was deadly serious about it, and everyone in the room knew it!
The leader remained calm, even though his life could be over within the next second. “Okay, Savage, stay cool.” Then he addressed his gang. “Do as he says and back off, assholes.” But all the bikers remained where they were, as if frozen to the spot, no one moving even a tiny muscle.
Tori felt a trembling shoot through her body like she’d never felt before in her life, not even when she’d been dangling off the rooftop this afternoon. For God’s sake, there were guns everywhere—hundreds of them—and she knew in her heart of hearts that some of them must have been locked and loaded, ready to fire. Not to mention that all of these bikers were probably packing their own weapons anyway. All it took was for one of them to shoot one shot and all hell would break loose! And she, standing as she was in the middle of the room, with all these outlaws surrounding her in a circle, would be the first one to die, no doubt about it. Her life would be over, right here, right now! Was this how it was all going to end for her?
A wave of nausea coiled itself in the pit of her stomach, as her heart leapt into her throat with panic. Oh please, Jesus, help me, help me! Her eyes scanned the biker’s faces again, and she could have sworn she saw some of them eyeing the various firearms on the tables.
“Don’t even think about it, assholes,” Savage growled. “He’ll be dead before you pop off your first shot, I guarantee it. Then you’ll be next.”
“Let the bitch go, Stitch! Now!” the leader shouted again and immediately, she was released. “Back off everyone and give the man some space,” he ordered.
His crew moved back, like a tide pulling away from the beach.
“Tori, get behind me,” Savage ordered, as he tightened his chokehold around the leader’s throat.
Tori scrambled there, scooting behind him, his large body becoming an instant shield against all the evil pervading the room.
“Get the bag.”
She grabbed the black duffle bag off the table and slung it diagonally along her body, over her purse. Her brain and body were now on autopilot. She wasn’t thinking anymore, or rationalizing or anything because every instinct in her was commanding her to do whatever he said, no matter what, if she wanted to get out of this mess alive.
“Okay assholes, get in that corner over there.” Savage nodded towards the front of the house. As the crowd obeyed, he moved towards the back door, dragging the biker leader along with him, with the Glock still pointed at the other man’s head.
Tori stayed protected behind Savage’s back, easing out along with him, but her heart was beating so fast she thought it would burst out of her chest. She glanced around the room and her eyes rested onto the two bikers from Delilah’s, fellow members of Savage’s gang.
The shorter of the two frowned deeply at the scene taking place. “Snake’s not gonna be happy about how this played out, Monroe. You know he wants his guns.”
“Yeah, well, it is what it is, Rocker.” Savage kept moving closer to the back exit, his eyes constantly darting around the room in case any of them decided to play hero and go for a weapon. “Snake’ll just have to wait to play another day. And I’d advise you and Goose to leave too, because this party’s over, boys.”
By now, they had reached the back door. Suddenly, the entire house was flooded with bright light, as if a solar flare from the sun had erupted over the bungalow. A split second after that, an ear-splitting explosion at the front of the home rocked the structure, blowing the front door off of the hinges. Pandemonium erupted amongst the bikers as they scrambled for their guns.
Tori froze. In horror, she suddenly watched as Savage viciously brought the butt end of his Glock down hard on the back of the leader’s head. The older biker immediately crumpled to the floor, his body limp and unconscious, even before he hit the hardwood. Savage then grabbed Tori’s hand and yanked her hard out the back door.
Just as she stepped into the backyard, she heard someone shouting, “This is the ATF! Come out with your hands up!” through a bullhorn from outside the front of the house.
Gunfire exploded from within, and Tori knew there was a real live shootout playing out between the bikers and who knew who else.
“Run to the bike, Tori!” Savage shouted even as he con
tinued to drag her behind him.
Tori ran to the bike, the duffle bag still wrapped around her body. She straddled the Harley a second after he did, wrapping her shaking hands around his waist.
Turning on the ignition, Savage brought the mechanical beast to life. A second after that, they were blazing at sonic speed down the alleyway at the back of the house, as if they were being chased by Satan himself. The bike’s tires churned up the hard packed dirt of the road like soft candy and before she knew it, they had blasted onto a paved street a block over.
Revving the engine hard, Savage increased the Harley’s speed, weaving around one corner onto another street, and then taking another corner leading to another street, and then another. Soon, they found themselves shooting down the highway at blistering speed.
Tori’s brain felt as it had been scrambled, like eggs for an omelet, and she couldn’t think anymore. Her heart was pounding wildly, her hands were clammy and she could feel droplets of sweat popping out on her forehead. What was going on, her mind screamed—and where were they going?
Her hands clenched around Savage’s chest and the funny thing was that, yes—she could feel his heart beating against his ribs but it was beating at a steady clip and his body felt cool as ice. There wasn’t a tremor or shaking or twinge or anything in his entire frame to tell her that the bastard was scared. But, of course, why would he be? As he’d told her before, this was just another day at the office for him, wasn’t it?
As they zoomed down the highway, Tori checked to make sure nobody was following. But no one was. They were the only ones on the lonely stretch of road. A blast of cold, desert wind hit her like a hurricane, ripping through her sweater and bringing her back to her senses. In a flash, the logical part of her brain began working again.
Her thoughts raced back to the bungalow at 868 Gable Street. What had that disembodied voice shouted through the bullhorn after the explosion at the front door? He’d said ATF!
ATF?
Wait! One of her cousins in Austin, Texas worked for the ATF. They were the Bureau of Alcohol, Firearms and Tobacco—federal agents who arrested bad guys involved in illegal gun trafficking—like bikers—and like Savage Monroe.
And now—like Victoria Alexandra Jones!
Reality hit her hard, choking the breath out of her as she suddenly realized that, because of her association with the criminal bastard she had her arms wrapped around, she had just been dragged deep deep deep into his world, which was Hell; and had been forced to play by his rules, which were evil incarnate.
She had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, following the wrong people. Because of that, her entire life had just been destroyed in the twinkling of an eye!
She was now…a fugitive on the run!!!
Chapter 38
Friday – 11:58 p.m.
Nevada Highway
The light of the full moon danced off of the Harley’s shiny chrome as it sped along the deserted road. Tori tightened her grip around Savage’s body, using him as a shield against the cold wind whipping through her thin sweater. They were travelling at the speed limit now that they were certain that no one had followed them from Gable Street.
Tori’s lips twisted with sarcasm. Of course the bastard was obeying the rules of the road for a change. He wouldn’t want to be pulled over by the police for speeding, now would he? No, the less attention they drew to themselves, the better, considering they were running from the law—at least, that’s how his criminal mind would think.
Her eyes quickly scanned the road again. Judging by the highway signs that whizzed by, she knew they were heading back to the cabin on Preclude Road. But the real question was—what would happen to her once they got there?
Suddenly, a flash of terror coursed through her as her brain computed the only logical answer to that question. Why, he was going to kill her, of course! After all, she was an eye witness to the fact that he was involved in the illegal gun trafficking deal with the rest of those evil bikers and thereby, she could testify against him in a court of law. And then they’d put him away in jail for a very long time, and he didn’t seem the type who would take kindly to that outcome at all.
A sense of dread began dancing in her stomach. Oh my God…Savage Monroe was going to kill her!
He was taking her, right now, to that isolated cabin in the middle of nowhere, with not a soul for miles. Then he’d turn his gun on her, shoot her dead and bury her body in a hole in the desert where no one would find her—ever ever ever and forever more! She’d disappear off the face of the earth without so much as a sigh, and her parents and her Nana would never know what had happened to her. In fact, no one, at this very second, even knew where she was. All her friends probably thought she was back home in Gideon, still soaking in that stupid bathtub, for God’s sake! Oh, what she wouldn’t give for that to be true right now.
Tori felt the steady beating of his heart beneath her fingertips and she knew that the bastard wasn’t the least bit worried about anything. He was cool and focused, just like a serial killer would be when he was about to commit his next murder. Or in this case, about to murder her—Victoria Alexandra Jones, star witness in the prosecution’s case against the devil himself.
Oh my God…
He was going to kill her!
He was going to kill her!
He was going to kill her!
But what was she going to do about it? He was as big as an ox and stronger than a bull. In comparison, she was tiny and no match to him in any way. She couldn’t outrun him, or physically fight him off. A surge of white, cold panic tore through her at the impending doom that was awaiting her back at the cabin.
Suddenly, a new thought popped up in her brain, fighting for space amongst all the fear-mongering. Hadn’t Nana felt her tingle when she’d first met the biker, signaling to her that he was a good man with a good heart? And her grandmother’s tingle was never wrong. After all, hadn’t he looked after her and protected her today? Why, he’d saved her life more than once even. Maybe he was intending to help her yet again?
No—he was going to kill her! It was the only logical, rational thing for a cold-blooded criminal like him to do.
Chapter 39
Saturday – 12:26 a.m.
126 Preclude Road
Tori watched the Harley’s wheels chew up the road beneath them, taking her ever closer to the cabin, and ever closer to her death. A wild shiver went through her and she brought her gaze back up, her brain going over the finer points of the plan she’d just come up with to save her life.
There was only one thing left to do—she needed to get Savage’s gun and point it at him, before he could point it at her and shoot her dead. Her hands tightened around his torso and she inched her fingers upwards just ever so slightly until they came into contact with the edge of the leather holster he was wearing across his chest, overtop his white t-shirt but underneath his club vest and black biker’s jacket. His Glock was in that thing. She’d seen him stuff it in there just before he’d straddled the bike.
She would have only one microsecond to snatch that gun—that infinitesimal, tiny, fraction of a heartbeat when he would bring the bike to a full stop outside the cabin but before he turned the ignition off and took his hands off of the handlebars. That’s when he’d be at his most vulnerable.
What would happen after that? Damned if she knew! She couldn’t think that far ahead anyway. All her brain could compute right now was the plot to get that pistol away from him at all costs.
And she could do it too; she was convinced of it. He wouldn’t expect her to do something like that; she could take him by surprise. And surprise was the one thing a tiny opponent like herself needed in order to get the better of someone as big, strong and clever as he was. The only thing she had to remember, though, was to be careful to not pull the trigger accidentally and shoot herself in the process! No, that definitely wouldn’t be a good thing.
Savage slowed the Harley as they came to the turnoff to Preclude Road.
Steering the bike to the right, he smoothly made the turn and rode down the street, fast approaching the entrance to the cabin’s long driveway.
A tidal wave of black fright swept through her as Tori mentally went over her plan one more time. Okay, she could do this. Her life was depending on it. Like her Nana always said, you don’t mess with Texas!
As Savage smoothly made the left turn onto the road, a nervous sweat suddenly slicked her body and her breathing became quick and shallow. She inched her right hand upwards, ever closer to the holster. All of a sudden, the cold metal edge of the gun’s handle brushed against her trembling fingertips. Okay, it was now or never, her brain shouted. And it better be now, otherwise, she’d be taking her last breath on earth in about one minute’s time.
Sweet Jesus, help me, please, she prayed under her breath, as the Harley’s wheels came to a full stop in front of the cabin.
Savage’s hands were still on the handlebars. Before he’d had a chance to turn the bike off, Tori’s right fingers wrapped around the butt end of the gun. She clumsily yanked it out of its leather resting place and jumped off the motorcycle. His body lurched forward as if trying to block the move but she knew that she’d taken him by surprise.
Stumbling slightly with the awkwardness of still having his black duffle bag and her own purse wrapped around her body, she ran about 10 feet away before turning back and pointing the Glock at him. He remained sitting on the Harley, frozen in time like a marble statue and glaring at the pistol now being pointed his way.
It was obvious he wouldn’t make any sudden moves, as he kept his hands glued to the handlebars. The engine was still on, its throaty roar reverberating through the quiet, desert night. His emotionless eyes shifted from the gun to her face, watching her like a hawk would its prey before it pounced on it and ate it for supper.
“Don’t—don’t come near me!” Tori shouted, as she curled both of her hands around the gun’s handle, repositioning the weapon so that it was aimed dead centre at his chest. She clicked the firing button to the on position and the pistol was ready to fire. “I’ll—I’ll shoot, and—and I know what I’m doing too. I told you before that my uncle has a Glock. Well, who do you think goes with him when he goes target practicing? Me!”
