by Carmen Faye
This demanded a change of plans. Vance got on the horn and spoke to his contact, who promised to meet him at a Denny’s halfway between the two of them early in the morning, and then he got busy with a thorough deep cleaning of his house. He changed the bed sheets, throwing the dirty ones in the wash. Then, he cleaned up the living room, picking up the trash and wiping down the tables. He vacuumed, too, and then he tackled the kitchen full of dishes and random leftovers.
Finally, he scrubbed the bathroom until it sparkled again. Only then did he bury himself in the hot tub, sinking in up to his neck, as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the edge. He was pretty sure he was missing calls and texts that could have been important, but he didn’t really care. He needed this, and he was damn well going to enjoy it without interruption.
He dozed a bit and lost track of time. When he finally got out and wrapped a towel around his waist, his fingers were wrinkled. A glance at the kitchen clock told him he’d spent nearly an hour soaking, but he definitely felt better. Some of the tension had left his body, and he was much less touchy. He checked his phone and had a missed call from Dusty. The voicemail said he’d had a little luck getting some guys together, and Vance decided to call back later.
There were no other calls or messages, which was a pleasant surprise, so he dressed in a pair of pajama pants, put some pasta on to boil, and plopped down on the couch to flip channels until his food was done. But the minute he tried to settle in, his mind turned back to Maya.
He wished he could believe this situation would bring them back together, but it was more likely to confirm her fears were true. She didn’t belong with him. And Vance couldn’t really blame her. What right did he have to ask her to stay anyway, when all he did was put her in danger? He claimed to be able to keep her safe, but every time they turned around, there was another threat to her life that rested on his shoulders.
The truth was, he didn’t deserve her. He didn’t really deserve anyone with the life he led, and that was why he’d been perfectly content going from woman to woman. It was part of being a biker, of course, but it also kept him from having feelings for anyone. Feelings complicated everything. He wouldn’t have to rescue a one-night stand. That sort of woman wouldn’t appeal to him after a night of nothing but good sex. And she wouldn’t be worth anything to the Scorpions because he had no feelings for her.
Maya was a different story, and he had no one to blame but himself.
Restless and frustrated that his peace had lasted such a short time, he marched into the kitchen to finish making his food, and he sat down hard in the kitchen chair, stabbing violently at the noodles. He finished quickly and regretted it the minute his stomach started cramping. Pain increased his frustration, and since he couldn’t seem to find comfort in his home, he got dressed and headed back to the clubhouse. It was nearly dark, but that was the best time to find some company to drink with. In a couple of hours, he could be far enough into a bottle to forget for a little while what a dumbass he was for falling for a woman he could never have—and that he still had to find and rescue because he loved her.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
She was a prisoner tied up in a strange place, but that bothered her less than having no clock in the room. She knew it spoke volumes about her own neurotic obsessions. She should have been angry at the Scorpions for kidnapping her and roughing her up a bit, at the circumstances, at Vance for getting her into this mess, and at her own stupidity for getting wrapped up with someone who led a completely different lifestyle. She was now a hostage, a prisoner of a war that didn’t even involve her.
Instead, she was mostly complacent.
Most of her frustration came from the lack of device to tell time. The rest was just pure boredom. She worked at the bindings, starting by gently shrugging her shoulders and wiggling almost imperceptibly. The guard wasn’t really watching her, only turning hateful glances on her now and then, as if it was her fault he’d gotten in trouble. But she didn’t want to get caught, so she kept the movement minimal.
She’d still managed to loosen the rope around her chest a bit, moving it an inch or so to a narrower part of her arms closer to her shoulders. She’d given up on her hands for a bit. She’d made a lot of progress when the chafing and burning from the rope had turned into bleeding. The damage she’d done could easily be blamed on the guard, but any further injury wouldn’t be believable.
Maya had also found a way to slide her legs until they were almost free of the rope, and she practiced a few times to get faster at it. But ultimately, that would have to be a last minute thing or she’d be in real trouble. Her ankles would be the biggest problem, and right now, she had decided to wait and see what would happen with Vance and what sort of proposal Tres Amenazas had for her. She wasn’t going to get hurt; she had the ringleader’s word on that.
But she was starving, and she needed to move. Her entire body was cramping up from being in the same position for too long. And the thought of not knowing precisely how long made her livid again that she had no time piece. She would have to ask the leader if he would at least give her a sense of day and night by leaving her a clock or watch or something.
In the meantime, she was growing anxious. It had to have been plenty of time for Vance to have met with the big guy. So, where were they? Or at least, one of them? She didn’t mean to be impatient, but she was worried that el jefe would come down with one of his lackeys, dragging Vance’s dead body. Or that they captured him and were going to hold him hostage, right next to her.
And Maya knew he wouldn’t be as cooperative as she had tried to be.
She could hear voices outside the room, around the corner probably, since it was hard to make out the words. She scooted her chair as quietly as she could, her guard having finally fallen asleep. Maya hoped he would get ‘disciplined’ again for that. She managed to get about two feet closer, and the words were a little clearer. Unfortunately, half of them were in Spanish, and she had to call on her high school language courses to piece it together.
Focusing hard, she discerned two voices, both male, and one slightly deeper than the other. “El jefe is playing with him. Sure, he wants access to the Hijos de Mojave territory, but that’s not his main goal.”
The higher pitched voice answered, “He made promises, though. Promises none of us agree with.”
“It don’t matter. You think el jefe is going to make good on those promises, Felipe? No way. I told you, he’s playing around. The white boy wants the girl so bad he’ll do anything. But then he’ll have to do something else. And then more until he screws up. And while he’s running around like a crazy man, el jefe is going to make bank with the woman.”
“What are you talking about?” That was exactly what Maya wanted to know. What did they plan to do with her that was going to ‘make bank’? She’d thought Tres Amenazas wanted to rape her bank account, and she was ready to let him do it to get out of this mess without Vance getting hurt.
The answer came from the deeper voice. “I don’t know the plan exactly. But el jefe told me he’s going to use the girl to pad our finances so we’ll have all the resources we need. I’ve never heard him this confident, and it sounds like he’s not talking about a few hundred bucks. I think he’s talking about more like five figures.”
Maya scowled. Is that all they wanted? Twenty or thirty grand? She would gladly pay that much, maybe more. She’d expected to hear a much higher number. Things were looking up, despite the fact that she still hadn’t heard anything about Tres Amenazas’s meeting with Vance.
She pulled at the bindings some more, wincing at the pain in her wrists as the newly scabbed sores opened up, but she managed to get a little space and thought she might be able to squeeze her hands through if she needed to. She froze at the sound of familiar boots closed in, and her lungs seized. Tres Amenazas stopped at the door, where the guard sat with his legs stretched out and his head lolling to the side
With a nasty scowl, he drew his leg back
and aimed between the guard’s legs, and the lazy man howled in pain, rolling over and curling into a ball. “You fall asleep on the job again, and I’ll cut them off! Go!”
The guard pushed to his feet and took off, bent at the waist as he cupped himself. The boss stepped into the room and met Maya’s gaze. “I guess the guard had nothing more to say to you.”
She snorted. “He’s been snoring since about three minutes after you left. And for that time, he glared at me like I was gum on his shoe.”
Tres Amenazas actually laughed. “He is not going to last long under my authority, I can tell.” He grabbed the same chair and faced her again. “I have spoken to your boyfriend, and we have reached an agreement.”
“And what agreement is that?” Maya recalled the discussion outside her door and didn’t like the sound of that.
“Let’s just say that, in the next couple of days, you should no longer be under my watch. It just depends on your boyfriend’s power of persuasion.”
So, he had to convince the Mojave Boys to do something, and that’s what the other two men had referenced. Maya doubted they would agree to whatever this guy was asking. “And if he doesn’t succeed in this task?”
“I’m willing to work out other arrangements,” he hedged. “I think maybe I have more faith in Coldman than you. I believe he will make this trade with my men so that both sides may benefit from the arrangement.”
“I’m sure he would,” Maya agreed. “But I don’t think the rest of the gang is going to be so eager.”
He shrugged. “That is up to them. Like I said, I have a Plan B, and you can help if the bargain doesn’t work.”
She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I have money. How much would it take to get you to release me and leave Vance and his boys alone?”
He chuckled again. “I haven’t thought of a figure, but perhaps that is something I should consider, just in case. Are you hungry?”
The abrupt change of subject gave Maya mental whiplash, mostly because she was starving, and the drugs hadn’t completely worn off just yet. “I could eat. And some more water would be nice.”
He didn’t move at first, watching her closely. Eventually, he said, “I don’t want to treat you like a child. If I untie your hands so you can eat and drink on your own, will you behave yourself?”
This was probably her best opportunity. “I would love to feed myself, and I’ll be a good little girl,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm at the term.
He simply nodded and stood, coming around behind her. Maya heard the distinct sound of a knife being drawn, and the yank at the rope as he sliced through it made her hiss in a breath. “Your wrists are torn. We had you tied up too tight. I’ll get you some dinner, and then we’ll put some salve on these wounds”
She appreciated it, but she still didn’t trust his intentions. Something wasn’t right, and Maya was going to be cautious going forward.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Vance stood beside Dusty in the office with the aerial map spread out on the desk. They’d pinpointed five landmarks that looked like possible hidden locations near the Scorpions’ warehouse. Vance suspected they were probably looking for a bunker, which would be hard to find, so they didn’t count on any of the buildings. But there were a few dark spots that looked distinctly like openings to an underground location. Those were their marks.
“So, what’s the plan? Are we going to split up and check different spots? Or are we going to hit each of these as a group?” Caleb asked. He’d been the most eager to join the crew, still reeling from losing Cougar as a mentor in the gunfight. He wanted vengeance, and at the moment, this was the best he could do.
Vance would rather hit all of them at once, but there was safety in numbers. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I think we should make it a group effort. When we find Maya, we don’t know how much security they’ll have watching her. A stronger front is better.” And Dusty had only rounded up six more men, so they were a party of eight. Splitting up at all would make them weak.
“I think we should start here,” Dusty said, pointing to a blotch that was fairly close to the Scorpion hangout but distant enough to not be obvious. “I know there are some caves around that area, and if Tres Amenazas was looking for a convenient place to build his own little hideout, it wouldn’t take much to shore up a cave.”
Assessing the other options on the map, Vance nodded. “I agree.” He gazed around the group, looking for objections and finding none. “Alright. Get your things together. I want everyone armed but not too heavily. Speed is important, and I don’t want anything slowing us down. We ride out in an hour.”
Everyone left, except Dusty. Expecting to hear something he didn’t like, Vance clenched his jaw and waited. “We don’t have time to just hit one spot a day. If this isn’t it, we need to hit another today. We should plan where we go next.”
Vance knew he was right, but he wanted to believe they’d hit the mark on the first try. Planning a second stop was like admitting they could be wrong. Still, he took the advice to heart, not wanting to screw up based on pride. “Okay, then let’s go here next.” Dusty was going to push back because it was damn close to the Scorpions’ bar, but Vance knew el jefe. He kept his friends close, his enemies closer, and anything that was of value right next to his heart. The outlying spots they’d marked were far less likely to turn up anything for them.
Groaning, Dusty said, “I don’t like it. How the hell are we supposed to sneak in when the place is right at Tres’s door?”
Vance traced his finger along a line that ran a bit behind the clubhouse. It was barely visible from the aerial view. “This is a gravel road. It’s not obvious because it’s only pebbles, but it’s there, and it wraps around to the backside of the clubhouse, maybe a quarter mile out. That should be about where all of this is.” He indicated the dark spot they’d been looking at.
Dusty’s expression was grim. “Still, we’ll draw a lot of attention from the clubhouse being that close. We’ll have to park the bikes and walk the last thousand feet or so, and we’re still likely to get into a gunfight before we can sneak in and out.”
Growing irritated, Vance glared at his friend, shoving away from the desk. “If we don’t find Maya at the caves, I’ll just ride out here alone. One bike is a lot quieter than eight, and I can get in and out fast by myself. I don’t need the backup.”
“That’s a bunch of shit, Ice,” Dusty countered. “You need the firepower and the muscle.”
“But I don’t need the bad attitude or the warnings or the ‘we’ll never get out alive’ mentality,” Vance shouted. “If you’re going to support me in this, just do it and stop telling me how much you don’t like it.” He was exasperated. There was no such thing as an ideal situation under the circumstances. He hoped they would find Maya in the caves with minimal security. But that was the best he could hope for at this point. He couldn’t make any guarantees, and it was just going to get more dangerous over time.
“Sorry, man, I wasn’t trying to piss you off.” Vance knew that, but he was pretty high strung, and considering how well he kept his anger under control, he didn’t feel he needed to calm down any of his other emotions. His friends could deal with them or walk away. He didn’t give a shit.
“Look, I’m a mess, and this is the best I can do to keep from breaking into a rage. I don’t think I’m doing too bad a job. So, bear with me. Just get armed, and let’s get on the road. This is at least a two-hour ride.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” Dusty quipped, heading out of the office. Vance rolled his eyes and left the room, glad he’d brought a couple of his guns and knives along. He grabbed another pistol out of the locker and tucked another switchblade into his pocket, just as backups. The weapons felt secure, and it went a long way in calming his nerves to be appropriately armed.
Maya had been hostage to the Scorpions for more than twenty-four hours now, and he hadn’t received an update since he’d been to their clubhouse yesterday. He didn
’t think Tres Amenazas would be stupid enough to hurt her if he intended to use her to bargain with, but it still left Vance feeling nervous because he couldn’t verify that she was eating or drinking. He didn’t know if they’d been battering her or taunting her to the point of being terrorized. He literally knew nothing of her condition, and that put him in a place where he felt the need to rush.
Luckily, most of the men who were standing behind him in this were level-headed and could keep a reasonable perspective. It meant Vance could feed off that energy and stay cooler about it. Dusty had assured him that more would have followed if they didn’t have some sort of other obligation, most of which involved family matters. And he’d stopped with this number so they could have a modicum of stealth in their movements.
It was smart, and Vance knew he had to stop complaining to his friend. Dusty had gone out of his way to think it through and coordinate things properly. Vance appreciated it, and he should show that. He headed outside toward his bike, and he found half his team gearing up. He glanced at Dusty’s bike and noticed it needed some cleanup work. When they got back safe with Maya in tow, Vance would get the thing cleaned, repaired, and polished as a thank you.
