Joyride

by DD Prince

  I should’ve kept fighting. I should’ve chanced the duct tape and kept fighting. I put my head in my hands and let out a sigh as Jesse turned the truck off.

  “You watch her, and I’ll run to the store for supplies,” Jesse said, passing Bronto a set of keys from his glove box. “Take the tape and if she acts up, restrain her.”

  “Fuck you,” I said, aiming a glare at him.

  “Sticks and stones,” he returned with a shrug.

  “Jesse, man. Step outside,” Bronto urged, his eyes big.

  They both got out and shut their doors. I was wishing Jesse had left the key in the ignition.

  I heard Bronto almost pleading. “Let me go to the store. You watch her. She’s … she’ll listen to you more than me.”

  Shit. The giant biker galut was scared of me. I snickered.

  Bronto gave me a look that made me feel a little bad for him, but I couldn’t show it.

  Jesse cussed under his breath and then he passed him the pickup keys and Bronto passed him the other set of keys and then the passenger door was opened.

  “Out.” Jesse motioned toward the cabin and then he lit a cigarette. He held onto my wrist while walking to the cabin.

  If it weren’t for Bronto, I’d still be shitting bricks. But, I felt like Bronto had been showing his true colors all along. No way was he gonna be here if I was about to be killed. I’d hope that if the other guy was going to do it, Bronto would save me.

  The guy had introduced me to his Grandma! He was a prospect so maybe not a totally hardened criminal, but still. Jesse was a prospect, too, and he was bad to the bone. I could see it in his eyes and smell it in the air around him. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he’d killed for the Doms already.

  I stood there while he took a few hauls from his cigarette before tossing it, and then I followed him to door of the single-story but wide and long cabin. It had a wraparound deck and was surrounded by trees.

  Jesse unlocked and opened the door, looked inside.

  “Wait. Doin’ a walkthrough.” He drew a gun from inside his coat and cocked it. “Don’t even think about runnin’.”

  My heart stopped. A gun. Could this get any scarier?

  He went inside. If I hadn’t seen the gun I’d have made a run for it, but the gun? That gun made me stay put.

  I held onto the door frame to brace myself and then slid against the outside wall of the house down to a squat, my heart racing, my eyes on Bronto, who was by the truck, his hand inside his coat like he, too, was holding a gun.

  Of course he was. He was recruited by the Doms for his shooting skills.

  FML.

  Bronto aimed a thumbs-up at the doorway.

  “C’mon,” I heard Jesse say and I walked inside as Bronto backed out of the driveway and left.

  Jesse no longer had the gun out. He’d turned all the lights on.

  I walked in slowly, my arms folded across my chest. I took in the space. It was open concept and spacious.

  There was a long parson’s bench in the entryway with hooks over top filled with jackets, sweaters, hats. The living space had two big comfortable-looking plush chocolate brown couches, a long low light wooden table with eight backless barstools, three pendant lights hanging over top and behind that was a smallish but efficient-looking kitchen with wood countertops and instead of upper cabinets, there were shelves with colorful pottery. There was a white fridge and stove and they looked older, but in decent shape. The fridge had overhead cabinets and was covered in magnets holding up snapshots all over it.

  This was certainly a man’s cottage, but it had been given a few feminine touches.

  The space had a big floor-to-ceiling gray stone wood-burning fireplace that meant you could view the fire from either side. There was a hallway that opened up at that back that led to several rooms, presumably a bathroom and bedroom(s) as well as an open staircase at the end of the hall that led down.

  There was also a set of sliding doors off to the right, that led to a big screen-enclosed porch filled with some lounge chairs and a big hexagon poker table. Beyond that, was a deck. The whole place was honey stained wood walls. It wasn’t dirty and didn’t even smell dusty, so it must’ve gotten used and cleaned often.

  “I have to use the bathroom,” I snapped.

  “Go,” he waved. “But don’t try jumpin’ out a window or anything. It’s dark, there’s bears and wolves and other things with teeth out there, and we’re a ten-minute drive from any kinda town, so you won’t get anywhere but in deep shit if you try hoofin’ it.”

  I stomped through the open area down a hallway and found three bedrooms and a bathroom as well as the basement staircase. I took a few steps down and saw a big room down there with a pool table and two more couches as well as another big saloon-style bar. The space was decorated in biker décor and man cave memorabilia down there. I headed back up the few steps and into the washroom at the end of the hall.

  This cabin was rustic, but it was nice. I seriously hoped it wasn’t going to be where I took my last breath.

  I used the bathroom and then I stomped back out to the open living area and slumped onto one of the couches.

  Jesse was standing by the window, drinking a bottle of water. He tossed me one. I didn’t even try to catch it, so it landed on the cushion beside me. It looked frosty.

  I shivered. It was nippy tonight.

  He took that hint and moved to the fireplace and started filling it with wood from a brass basket to the side. In no time, the place was warming up.

  I sat, saying nothing, just watching him getting the fire going.

  He glared over his shoulder at me. “That video was bullshit. That girl wasn’t raped.”

  I raised my eyebrows at him.

  “Don’t fuck up. Listen to Rider. Guys like him don’t grow on trees.”

  I curled my lip at him and then rolled my eyes and opened the water and took a healthy swig.

  He turned his back to me and went back to work on the fire.

  He got it going and then put a DVD in a machine attached to the big screen TV.

  Fast and the Furious.

  Great. Not!

  I sat, not really watching, more mulling over my situation, thinking about that awful video and what it said about these guys. What it said about Rider Valentine, even if it had been consensual, which I still couldn’t wrap my mind around.

  Some girls were kinky. Some girls were slutty. Some were both. But taking four bikers at once and pretending it was a rape? That just didn’t sound remotely sexy to me. And that girl had looked and sounded terrified, not like it was consensual.

  And Rider had such suave. He was this beautiful biker with sparkling turquoise eyes, a beautiful smile, a way with his charm.

  He had this easy-going yet assertive energy that just drew me to him. I’d been like a moth to his flame and got my emotions invested almost from the get-go. I hated this. I was sad, mad, and scared and it was just too much to wade through right then.

  Half way through the movie, Bronto came in with bags of groceries. Groceries is a term used loosely, because it was frat boy food. And my handbag, which he’d handed me.

  “What now?” I asked after I watched him put away a pile of junk food that included half the frozen junk food section of a grocery store, two six packs of beer, a case of Coke, a four pack of Red Bull, and a bunch of other junk food, including four bags of potato chips, which he lined up on the counter.

  He sat beside me, bringing a third six pack with him as well as a huge bag of Cheetos. He held the six-pack in my direction. I shook my head.

  He pulled off a can. “Jess,” he called, and tossed it to Jesse. Jesse caught it without taking his eyes off the TV.

  Bronto held the Cheetos bag out. I took it and threw it.

  “Awe…” he pouted, “Be nice to the Cheetos, babe.”

  “What’s going on here?” I demanded.

  “Just what we said. We’re keepin’ you safe,” Bronto said.

  Jesse glar
ed at me, saying nothing.

  “Until?” I tried.

  “Until Rider gets here. He’ll be here soon,” Bronto fetched the Cheetos and opened the bag.

  “And then what?” I demanded.

  Bronto shrugged, filling his face with orange snacks.

  “I need to go home,” I said, trying to be unemotional, practical with them. “I have morning appointments. It’s getting late and it’s a long drive. Take me home. Rider can call me to ‘talk’ tomorrow.”

  “Sorry, Jenna. Looks like you’ll be here the night,” Bronto said after swallowing some beer. “When you took off, this is where Ride told us to bring you.”

  “I can’t stay here tonight!” My unemotional / logical / practical mask was slipping.

  “You’re stayin’.” Jesse clipped. “Now shut yer yap and either watch the movie or go find a bed to crash in.” He gestured to the TV.

  “Oh, am I interrupting some sort of high-intellect dialog? Vroom vroom vroom. Not exactly hard to follow!” I shouted.

  Jesse threw his head back and laughed. He laughed huge. And flashing his perfect smile, his so-dark-they-were-nearly-black eyes sparkled, and his face transformed from broody-hot to insanely hot.

  I huffed at him. Annoyed that he was so good-looking.

  “Shut my yap? You’re charming, aren’t you?”

  “Watch the movie or go to bed. Your call,” he shrugged, “And I still got duct tape, so choose wisely.”

  “I need my phone.” I held my hand out.

  “Not fuckin’ likely.” He didn’t even look at me this time. His eyes were aimed at the TV.

  Bronto’s eyes were on the TV, too. I glared at him. He shriveled a little bit, under my daggers, and wouldn’t make eye contact.

  He shoved more cheese snacks into his mouth instead.

  So, I stormed down the hall.

  Bedroom number one had two sets of stripped bunkbeds in it. The closet was big and had no door, just shelves. And the shelves were jam-packed with clothes, blankets, and towels.

  Bedroom number two had a stripped queen-sized bed, two nightstands, and a dresser. The closet door was open, and it was filled with man’s clothing. Biker man clothing. Flannels. Jeans. I’d guess this was Rider’s dad Deke’s room.

  I went to the other room and it had a double bed, no closet. It was stripped, but there was bedding in a zipped up clear plastic bag. It was purple and pink galaxy patterned bed-in-a-bag bag on an easy chair sitting in the corner. On the white painted dresser were framed photos. Lots of them, of the whole Valentine gang. A photo with Rider, Deacon, and Spencer, all looking to be in their teens, a really pretty dark-haired younger girl held up by them, over their heads.

  Another big framed picture of the three Valentine brothers and the pretty girl as well as Deke, were all outside what must’ve been this cabin, and looking recent, sitting together around a fire, all with sticks pointed at a fire. The girl and Spencer had marshmallows on their sticks. Rider and Deacon had hot dogs on the end of theirs. Dek held a fire poker in one hand, a beer in the other. There were other assorted snapshots of Valentine boys on their motorcycles.

  The cluster of photos was sitting as if it was put there by a girl, likely the pretty dark-haired girl, who I surmised must’ve been Rider’s sister. The one in the hospital because of that video, based on what Ella had said.

  I closed my eyes, painful images flashing behind them.

  The bedroom had a lock on the door knob, so I twisted it, made the bed and kicked my Converse off. I had a tank top on, so I took my hoodie off, too.

  I lay there, in the dark, for all of five minutes, my chin quivering as I fought off the tears that threatened after all that’d happened that night, before I passed out, hearing the almost comforting hum of that car racing movie playing in the background, and hoping that the Dominion Brotherhood MC wouldn’t hurt me or Ella.

  That five minutes had been filled with thoughts that I couldn’t go to the cops with the video. Nope. Threatening to call the cops wasn’t a smart move. I needed to get through whatever conversation was coming with Rider, get home, having convinced him that I wasn’t a threat. And then I needed to help Ella get away from Deacon, before she got hurt.

  Maybe I’d drain cash advances off all my credit cards and clean out my bank account and Ella and I could take off for a month or two, go to Mexico or the Caribbean or something. Let Deacon move on. Let Rider forget I’d seen that video.

  I tried to make my mind not see what I’d seen in the video, but I couldn’t help it. I’d watched only seconds of it before exiting out and was sure of one thing: that minimal snippet of time was going to be branded on my brain anytime I thought about Rider Valentine. I wasn’t looking forward to this conversation. Or setting eyes on him again.

  ***

  “Jenna.”

  I opened my eyes to blinding light. I shielded them with my hand. It was only the bedside lamp on. And Rider was sitting on the edge of the bed I was in. He was dressed in a leather jacket, zipper done up, he smelled like outside, like the cold, and like he’d just come in.

  I sat up and instantly jumped, scrambling backwards to get away from him. I slid off the bed and landed on my ass on the floor on the other side. He leaned over and reached for my hand. I rejected it and scrambled to standing. The problem was, I was on the side of the bed opposite the door. He was between me and that door.

  My tailbone was sore.

  I had a flashback of him fucking that girl’s ass.

  I was gasping.

  So much for the lock on the door.

  He was staring at me, his expression nothing I could read.

  Eventually, I found words. “I need to go home.”

  His eyes flashed with irritation or something and his mouth was set in a hard line.

  “I don’t know why your lackeys brought me here, but please just take me home. I don’t give a shit what was on that video. I just wanna go.”

  He shook his head and scratched his jaw.

  “Rider, please,” I pleaded, suddenly afraid. An icy feeling shot up my spine.

  “Jenna, I didn’t rape that girl. It was just a game. It’s bein’ played like it wasn’t but honest to fuck, just a game. I’m not a rapist.”

  He had my phone in his hand.

  “Delete it. Gimme my phone, and please, let me go home. Maybe Bronto can just drive me. Or, let me walk out of here and I’ll find my own way. We can forget all of it. Just delete it and I’ll forget I saw it. I didn’t even see all of it, just a few seconds.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “I already deleted it. But, you can’t go home tonight.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m keepin’ you safe.”

  “Safe?” I rolled my eyes and folded my arms.

  “Told you there’s a threat. Jackals think you’re mine and they want back at me for this bullshit, which is just… bullshit. Just bullshit, Jenna.”

  I shrugged. “I...” I had to get out of here. I didn’t trust him. After what I saw on that screen, I couldn’t. “I’ll go stay with friends. I have friends out of town. Bronto can drop me at the nearest bus station. I’ll get a bus. Text me when it’s safe to go back.”

  “Too risky. Not playin’,” he said, shaking his head. “Get some sleep. I’m wiped. We’ll figure out what’s next tomorrow.”

  “No,” I protested. And I was losing my hold on my cool. He crossed his arms over his chest like he wasn’t going to listen to me. “No. I need to fucking go!” I was losing it.

  “Nothin’s gonna happen, Jenna. You’re here tonight. Get sleep and we’ll assess things tomorrow. It’s too late to go anywhere. I’m fuckin’ wiped. Sorry I woke ya; just wanted to clear the air.”

  He got up and left the room, shutting the door behind himself. Taking my phone. Taking my phone!

  And… clear the air? The air was so far from clear it was like I was in the middle of thick soupy fog.

  I stood there, my heart racing, staring at the closed door.

>   Maybe I should sneak out and steal Jesse’s truck. Shit; I wish I knew where Ella was. I’d bust out of here and go get her.

  Since I didn’t know where she was, I had to just hold it together.

  Maybe they weren’t gonna hurt me.

  But, maybe they were. Maybe they were out there discussing it right now. Rider could’ve just offed me in my sleep and he didn’t. Maybe he wasn’t a murderer, just a rapist. Maybe, not even a rapist, if that outlandish story could be believed, but a guy playing those games? Definitely not the guy for me. Not that he wanted to be the guy for me. He’d made that clear already.

  I was pacing.

  Maybe I could just wait it out until the morning and then go from there. But, what if things went really wrong before then? What if they talked it out and decided that I was too much of a wild card? The lock on this door hadn’t kept him out; I’d even slept through him coming in. What if their enemies showed up here and shot the place up while we slept?

  I didn’t know what the heck to think. All I knew was that I didn’t trust these guys and sleeping under a roof with them just did not feel like a smart choice.

  I opened the door about an inch and peeked out. The fire was still going, but there wasn’t much left of it. The television was off, and the lights were out. It was quiet out there, but I could hear the distant sound of a television.

  I got my shoes on and threw my hoodie back on over my tank top and tiptoed out. I saw that the light was on in the basement. I tiptoed down a few steps and peeked over the banister.

  Jesse was asleep lying on a couch. I couldn’t see all of Bronto, but saw his socked feet. He was sprawled out on another couch. The TV was playing the original Star Wars movie.

  Where was Rider? In one of the bedrooms up here?

  I tiptoed to the mostly dark kitchen. The remnants of the fire and an outside light left on gave enough of a glow that I could sort of see. Were there car or truck keys lying around anywhere out here?