by Carmen Faye
“What’s going on, Ice?” Dusty asked as he followed Vance to the weapons locker. It said to come unarmed, but he wasn’t stupid. He packed a couple of small pistols and blades in hidden places. “Whatever it is, let us help you.”
Vance met his eyes. “You can’t help me, Dusty. I appreciate the offer, but the best thing you can do is make sure no one comes with me. If I’m lucky, I’ll be back soon.” He tossed the phone to his friend as he took the keys Caleb offered him and headed to the bike. They followed him out, and Dusty handed his phone back.
“You’re going to need this,” Dusty told him. “Don’t be stupid, and good luck, Ice. We’re with you all the way.” That energy and determination not to screw up his attempt to save Maya were exactly what he was counting on.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Not wanting Vance to see her look back as she closed the door to the cab, Maya wielded her compact mirror discretely so she could watch him. She refused to cry; it wasn’t her style, and no matter how she thought she felt, it had only been a few days. Such a short relationship didn’t warrant vast amounts of tears.
“Where to?” the driver asked.
She wanted to bark at him to give her a minute, and she also wanted to tell him it was a stupid question. She’d told the cab company exactly where she was going when she’d called so she could prepay with her credit card. But Maya didn’t have the strength of will to do either. “Kingman. The Kingman Transportation Services Company.” From there, she would just have a driver take her the rest of the way to Los Angeles. It was less than four hours away, and there was no use flying or chartering a jet. She’d be comfortable enough in the back of a town car.
Kingman, she’d discovered, was only a twenty minute drive from Wheelie, and yet Vance told her no one was aware the small settlement was even there. It had been a happy mistake that she’d turned on the desert road to Wheelie rather than getting to Kingman, although as Vance disappeared from view, she wasn’t sure it had been so happy after all. If she’d never come here, she wouldn’t have met Vance, and her heart wouldn’t ache right now.
The driver reached Highway 40 and turned left, confusing Maya. She could have sworn Kingman was the other direction. She leaned forward to ask the driver, but he suddenly swerved to the side of the road and slammed on the breaks, throwing her against the door and then against the front seat. “What the…?”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence. The back door was yanked open, and two men in familiar vests reached inside. Still a bit shaken from being thrown around in the car, Maya tried to back away to the far side of the car, but that door opened, too, and she was dragged out, two pairs of hands bruising her arms.
“Let go of me!” she cried, flailing her legs and fighting as hard as she could against the two Scorpions who held her captive. But it didn’t do any good; she wasn’t strong enough. However, she wasn’t going down easy. She kept kicking with all her might as they carried her with fingers digging into her biceps and shoulders around to the right side of the car, where the first two men waited. One man had a dark look, his brow creased in a frown while his mouth curled into a sinister smile. The other just seemed amused and satisfied. “Stop wasting your energy, mujer. You might need it later. I don’t know about you, but my men have lots of stamina.”
He made a lewd gesture, thrusting his hips, and the rest of the men laughed. Disgusted, Maya spit on his shoes, and his smile faded. With an enraged expression, he hauled his arm back and backhanded her across the mouth. “Puta!” he screamed. “Do it again, and the punishment gets worse.”
Maya’s cheek stung, and she could taste blood in her mouth and feel it trickle from the corner of her lips. Calm down, she thought. Maybe you can talk your way out of this. Stretching her jaw, she asked, “What do you want from me?”
“I don’t want nothing from you, mujer, although I wouldn’t mind tapping a supermodel,” the man told her, back to his appalling mannerisms. “But Coldman is another story, and I have a feeling he’ll do whatever it takes to protect you.” He motioned to the guy beside him, who ducked into the car and came back with her cell phone, handing it to the man who seemed to be running this little heist.
Then, he reached down and grabbed some rope, which Maya hadn’t noticed until now. Her eyes grew wide. They were kidnapping her as bait for Vance. She shook her head wildly as the guy prepared to tie her up. “Vance isn’t going to come for me. He’s angry at me right now because I just dumped him. He doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”
The guy scoffed. “You think I’m an idiot? It doesn’t matter what you did to him. If he was that upset at you, it only means he’s very much in love with you. And that makes me believe even more that I’ve made the right decision.”
The ropes tightened around her chest and arms, and then the guy who was tying her up started on her wrists, then her ankles. “You can try it, but I’m telling you it won’t work. You might as well not waste your time. Let me go or kill me,” she tried, feigning confidence and a nonchalant attitude.
He took two long, quick strides forward and grabbed her chin, squeezing hard. “Don’t test me, mujer. I don’t play games, especially with bitches like you. Cooperate, and we’ll be good to you. Comprende?”
Tres Amenazas. This wasn’t just some guy with a sense of empowerment. This was the leader of the entire gang, the man who had engineered the attack on the Mojave Boys at their own clubhouse. Seeing him now, Maya decided he was just as crazy as the man who had supposedly defected from the group, just more intelligent.
Smart enough to set a trap that Vance would walk right into, a trap that would prove to be a death sentence.
Saying no more, the leader motioned to his men again, and they stuffed her into the back of the car. How had they managed to get her? Did they have some sort of interest in the cab company? It was the only thing she could think of that would have given them the inside knowledge of her need for a taxi and the arrival time.
“One more thing, mujer,” the driver said, turning in his seat. He stretched out a piece of duct tape and slapped it over her bleeding mouth. Her eyes widened in fear. “I don’t want to hear your fucking mouth the whole way home.” He chuckled, and Tres Amenazas leaned into the passenger seat, facing her.
He was laughing, too, an ugly rasping sound. “I would tell you to smile for the camera, but you can’t, can you?” He held up her phone and took a shot, and Maya was glad she’d managed to keep tears from welling up so far. She was terrified now, for herself and for Vance. “When your little boyfriend gets this from your phone, he’s going to go loco,” the leader said with a maniacal grin. He was pressing buttons swiftly, and Maya realized he was texting Vance.
She tried to scream in protest, but the sound was muffled, so she kicked her bound feet against the seat in protest. The guy looked up at her. “Be still, or your chauffeur might get angry and decide he needs to knock you out for the drive.” Finishing his text, he got out, throwing back at her, “Just sit back. Relax. Enjoy the scenery. You’ve got a little bit of a drive ahead of you.”
And then he was gone. All doors on the car shut, and the driver locked them. With the same lack of grace as before, he shot back onto the road and picked up speed. Maya forced herself not to cry and not to fight, and she hoped for the best. The fear in her chest built exponentially as the man drove at frightening speeds on winding roads, and they drew closer to whatever fate awaited her.
She prayed she would make it out of this alive, but at the same time, she wanted Vance to make it out, too. And if he came for her, there was absolutely no hope of that. She was either alone in this, or the only man she’d ever really cared about was going to give his life trying to save hers.
Those were her options, and neither of them were good. It wasn’t fair, and while she realized that was typical in this life, it didn’t make her feel any better about it. The only chance of keeping Vance away was if his brothers in the club forced him to stay put, and Maya asked the universe to pl
ease make sure they were strong enough to hold him back.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Vance didn’t head straight for the Scorpions’ clubhouse. As much of a hurry as he was in and as desperate as he was to get to Maya, he wasn’t stupid. This was a setup, and he wasn’t going to fall straight into enemy hands. He’d armed himself, but the rest of his gear was at home, and he had every intention of doing what he could to protect himself.
That meant he needed his flak jacket, and he needed to be in full leathers. So, even though he was going to lose a good forty-five minutes or more, he rode at breakneck speed to his house, where he carefully and methodically geared up. He even grabbed his metal helmet, which he only wore when he rode out in a group with the goal of getting into a gunfight. He had to have every piece of armor available if he was riding solo into the enemy’s basecamp.
Just as he was locking the house up tight, Vance’s phone buzzed again, and he nearly dropped the keys to dig it out of his pocket. His rush only made him more furious when he saw another text had come through from Maya’s phone. It had been an hour since he’d gotten the first message, and already these rat bastards were taunting him again.
He pulled up the picture attached and growled out loud. The car must have stopped somewhere because they certainly hadn’t had time to reach the Scorpion clubhouse yet. But Maya was out of the car, in bright sunlight, and now there were tears in her eyes and bruises forming on her cheek and shoulders. She wasn’t looking directly at the camera, and her refusal to cooperate was probably what had gotten her in trouble. In fact, as he looked closer, he saw a cut on her left cheekbone and wanted to stab someone over and over with a dull blade.
The message read, I would have thought a model was used to obedience. You should have taught her to behave, ese. Now, I have to.
He clenched his fists and nearly put one through his door. Barely in control, he finished locking up and stormed toward his bike. Throwing his leg over, he revved the engine to life, turned the opposite direction, and flew like a bat out of hell to the south.
He couldn’t understand how they’d gotten their hands on Maya to begin with. Vance had given her the number to the taxi service personally, and he’d been there when she called. The car that had arrived had the logo on it, so unless they had hijacked the cab and taken her into another car, it didn’t make sense. As far as he could tell from the first picture that had been sent, the interior was that of the cab.
So, they’d lost another business to the damned enemy, apparently. That was fine; Vance knew the owner of the cab company, and he was going to pay the price. When he had to stop for gas, he was going to call Dusty and have him lead a few of the boys out to take care of business. He’d like to do it personally, but he had other things on his mind right now, like getting Maya back before she was severely injured and killing the assholes who took her.
The road seemed long, the wind hotter than usual in his face. Vance knew it was his anxiety and determination that made him so frantic, but the miles still seemed to stretch further than they ever had. He was road weary almost before he started, but his fear for Maya’s safety fueled him on.
He didn’t know how long he’d been going when his phone buzzed again, having lost track of time in the endless expanse of desert road before him. He cursed to himself and checked the gas gauge on the bike. He wasn’t low, but he couldn’t make himself wait to check the message that had come through.
Rather than continue until he found a place to pull in, Vance braked and pulled over onto the dirt shoulder. He dug under his vest to get to the phone and pulled up what, of course, was another message from Maya’s phone.
You’re taking too long, vato. Your woman won’t last forever.
The image depicted Maya in a straight backed chair, ropes around her chest and her hands tied behind her back. Her head lolled forward, and the gag in her mouth tied around her hair, which hung in a mess around her face. He couldn’t see what sort of damage they’d done to her, and that only made him more furious. The Scorpions were taunting him, working him for every ounce of rage they could draw, so that he would storm in with guns blazing, out of control. It was their best hope of taking him down easy.
He refused to let his emotions take over. He had to be reasonable and in full control of his actions. With that in mind, Vance sent a quick response, his first one yet. On my way.
He left it at that, revved the engine, and pulled back onto the road, this time moderating his speed a little more carefully. He needed the extra few minutes it would give him to be sure he could pull himself together and act like a rational human being.
As he breathed the hot air in and out rhythmically, the miles grew even, and he brought his rage down several notches. He was still pissed off, but he wasn’t a maniac on wheels. He was just a man hell bent on saving the woman he loved and finding a means of vengeance that didn’t involve dying.
Though he would if it came to that.
A gas station loomed ahead, coming into view along the horizon, maybe another two miles, and Vance figured if he filled up now, he could make it the rest of the way to the Scorpions’ clubhouse and all the way home. He could also take a minute to splash some cold water on his face and check in with Dusty and the gang. He knew Dusty was all kinds of worried, and Vance wanted to reassure him that he had his head on straight.
He turned in and pulled up to the gas pump, taking off his goggles and rubbing his eyes. He looked around for signs he’d landed in the wrong place, but the attendant waved to him. Vance recognized him as one of theirs and walked away from his bike feeling safe enough to let it out of his sight.
In the bathroom, Vance ran the water for a minute to get it cold while he took a leak and then bent over the sink to scrub his face. He ran wet fingers through his hair, too, and felt better afterward. He walked back out to his bike and filled up, the attendant turning him away when he tried to pay. He sat on his bike and pulled out his phone, dialing Dusty, who answered on the first ring. “Where you at, bro?”
“Filling the tank on my girl,” he answered. “They knocked her out, Dusty. I can’t see her face in the picture. They could have cold clocked her, or they could have given her something. It pisses me off.”
“You shouldn’t be going alone,” his friend reiterated.
“I don’t have a choice in the matter, man. But I promise I’m not going to freak out. I’m good. I let the road calm me down.” He purposely kept his tone light, as if he was calmer and more relaxed than he actually was. He was still fuming, but Dusty would be the shit who rode out after him and got them both killed. He needed the guy to believe he was completely levelheaded to prevent that sort of complication.
There was a short silence. “How much farther do you have to ride?”
Vance wasn’t exactly sure. “I think it’s about another thirty miles. Forty, tops.”
“And you’re not going to purposely get yourself killed trying to bust her out of there?”
He had to laugh at that. “What good would it do for me to try to play the hero if I didn’t at least try to survive it? Come on, Dusty. I’ve got it under control, and I’m not going to kick at the goads.”
“I still don’t like it.”
“Yeah, neither do I. But I didn’t like the meatloaf my mama made me eat, either. I just smothered the shit in ketchup and took one for the team.” He pulled his goggles on. “I’ll catch you on the flip side, okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he hung up. He stuffed the phone back in his pocket and turned the key, kicking the engine to life.
He was back on the road a minute later with nothing on his mind except making sure he left the clubhouse with Maya’s arms around his waist.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Maya came to slowly, disoriented and trying to remember through the fog where she was and what exactly had happened to make her body ache. She was stiff, sore, and her limbs felt heavy. She tried to move, but she was stuck in a very uncomfortable position.
Her m
outh was dry and stretched, something distasteful in her mouth. That’s what jogged her memory. She tasted cloth, choked on the gag, and felt the corners of her mouth tear painfully. She coughed and tried to push the material off her tongue, but it was stuck.
Her neck popped as she lifted her head to look around. Maya didn’t know this room; they must have brought her in here after they’d drugged her to put her out. She winced at that memory. She’d fought hard to keep the needle out of her vein, not knowing what they were giving her. It could be something simple like Benadryl, a sleep aid, or a muscle relaxer. Or, it could be narcotics, illegal opiates. Lord knew she felt groggy enough to believe the worst.
“You’re awake.” Maya wrenched her head around and immediately regretted it, the room spinning and her body protesting. There was a doorway behind her, which provided the only source of light shining into the space, and that was blocked by Tres Amenazas. “Maybe we did not give you enough medicine to keep you sleeping.”
