Captured: Hunted Love #3

by Aden Lowe

  Just ahead, he spotted a dairy bar, one of those little mom-and-pop restaurants that usually had both indoor and outdoor seating and catered mainly to locals. In his experience, those little places had great food, too.

  In a split second decision, he veered into the little semicircular lot, and stopped beside a handful of outdoor tables. From the scowl Eric wore, he was not a happy individual at having to guess Kellen's next move. Oh well. Kellen parked his bike and dismounted, ready to eat a decent meal and hit the sack. He had a long few days behind him.

  The Raiders parked and stretched, and looked around while they waited for their counterparts in the Red Demons to catch up. Hack approached, wearing his usual frown. "Why are we here? Surely this town has something better in the way food?"

  "Maybe. But it probably also has surveillance cameras, and this little is less likely to." He turned toward the little window where patrons could place and pick up their order without having to go inside. Then he paused. "And Hack? I know you're not questioning my authority. Because that would be a huge mistake." Point made, he continued on to order his meal.

  After a wait for his food, Kellen sat at one of the outdoor tables, and soon Trip joined him. A pair of kids climbed up at the next table with ice cream cones. The older one, a girl, seemed to be taking care of the other, admonishing the little boy to sit still.

  Trip amused himself by making faces at the little guy, grinning when the kid laughed. The incongruity of the big stereotypical biker acting silly to amuse a little kid struck Kellen. Few people would believe the rough-looking bastard actually liked kids.

  A shriek split the air, and Kellen looked around for the source. The little kid stared in dismay at where his ice cream cone slopped along the attached seat of the table and the bulk of it melted quickly on the hot pavement below. Tears rolled and the kid screamed.

  The big sister tried in vain to quiet him, looking quietly panicked. Kellen sort of felt sorry for her, but he'd be damned if he let anyone know it. Instead, he concentrated on his tenderloin sandwich while he listened in. The girl started pulling change from the pocket of her ragged jeans, desperately counting and coming up short. She looked as if she wanted to cry, too. Her next move was to offer the rest of her cone to her brother, but he wasn't having it. He wanted his own.

  "Poor kid." Tripp fished out his wallet and took out a twenty. After a struggle to untangle his legs from the bench, he managed to stand and headed for the kids. "Hey, li'l mama. Here you go. Get him a new cone, and get you both something good."

  The little girl stared at him, eyes huge, tears clinging to her lashes and ready to pour out. She was clearly terrified, but the cries of her little brother convinced her. Slow and careful, she reached out for the money. Finally, she took it. "Th…Thank you, sir."

  Trip grinned. "You good, li'l mama. You be good and take care of the li'l man." He returned to his seat, still smiling.

  Kellen shook his head. "Why the hell you do that?"

  "They're homeless and hungry. Li'l man wanted a hot dog, but all she had money enough for was one cone. The girl at the window gave them a second one." Trip shrugged. "They need it worse than I do."

  Kellen dropped the subject and went back to eating. Stupid fucker. He'd pick up any stray that came along. Over the years, he'd took in more dogs and cats than anybody Kellen knew of. He always found them a home, but still. It was ridiculous. The guy was mean as hell in a fight, single-minded in his devotion to the Raiders—then he'd pick up a starving kitten and bottle feed it until it was ready to go to a new home. In-fucking-sane.

  The Raiders were accustomed to Trip's fondness for strays. But Eric the Red and his Red Demons noticed the charitable act. After a moment of astonished silence, a flurry of conversation erupted and gradually faded back to normal. But Kellen noticed one pair with their heads together, talking intently and throwing glances in Trip's direction. Trouble waiting to happen, most likely. Well, if they started it, he and the Raiders would finish it, no problem.

  Finally they all finished eating and by some unspoken consensus, headed for the bikes. "There's a little country bar a couple miles on down." Eric swung onto his bike. "Normally there's some good pussy hanging out there." The bikes roared in unison and Kellen made sure to stay abreast of Eric as they filed out of the lot.

  On down the road, Eric didn't bother trying to stay ahead of Kellen. The sign for the bar appeared from around a curve, swinging from a post beside the road. A big gravel parking lot sprawled around a low wood-sided building, which looked like it had been added to many times over the years. Across the front, a broad porch held a collection of benches and chairs, a couple of which were occupied.

  All the bikes rolled into the lot, creating a deliberately impressive dust cloud with a few skidded tires, and parked right up front, ready to roll at a moment's notice. The men dismounted and grouped up loosely with Eric and Kellen at the center. Wary, and no doubt dangerous-looking, they watched every detail as they stepped onto the porch, then through the broad door in a show of force.

  All wasted effort. Only a handful of people sat scattered throughout the booths not far from the bar. At Hack's signal, the Raiders dropped into chairs surrounding several tables and the Demons hurried to do the same.

  Kellen chose his seat and waited for Eric to sit. "Where's all that good pussy you promised, man?"

  Eric scowled. "Be patient. It's still early. Get a beer."

  "I didn't come here for a beer." Hack's gaze rested on the chubby gray-haired waitress approaching them at a snail's pace. "And the only pussy I see is all dried up. I'm out."

  The two Demons who'd been holding the intent conversation back at the dairy bar grinned. "Be patient, man. This round's on your boy there, the one that likes to give money to panhandling little brats."

  Trip rose with a glower and clenched fists. "I'll buy a round for my Brothers, but not for a bunch of curs that weaseled their way into the operation."

  A grumble passed through the Red Demons, until Eric raised a hand to signal for quiet. "No weaseling needed. We're just here to make sure the job gets done right. The man paying the bills doesn't trust that it will." He looked around at the Raiders. "Red Demons always get it done."

  Cold anger rolled through Kellen. The reference to one of his hang-abouts stealing a cut and knocking over a liquor store with Raider colors on full display, and the fiasco that followed, was uncalled for. The right blood had flowed for that offense. Job done. "The day a filthy Demon can do something a Raider can't, hell will freeze up. Ya'll might as well tuck tail and head on home, like you usually do when trouble shows up."

  The middle-aged waitress wisely sensed a problem and turned back toward the kitchen. Two of the patrons grinned and turned their chairs for a clear view of the action. They seemed ready to start taking bets on the outcome. Clear proof that the place was short on decent entertainment.

  The moment balanced on the hair-trigger of Eric the Red's notoriously nasty temper and all the outlaws held their breath, waiting to see how much blood would flow.

  In a monumental display of control, Eric the Red laughed. It sounded more like a growl, but the truly frightening part was the demonstration of how powerful Eric considered the man giving the orders. "We'll settle that shit up. After work."

  "Yeah, we sure as fuck will. In the meantime, you tell your boys to keep their bullshit to themselves. Next Demon to make a wise-ass remark about Trip helping those kids is going to need a band-aid to hold his guts inside his belly. We clear?"

  Eric's face went redder than his name, but he gritted his teeth and finally nodded a little. "They'll keep it shut."

  Fuck. Whoever called the shots had Eric running scared.

  Chapter Three: Kate

  Heart pounding in her throat, Kate made it to Ajax's side finally. Not quite able to believe her skin remained mostly in one piece, she stood and unhooked the quick-release hardware that secured the saddlebags to the back of the saddle along with the bedroll. The horse shuffled his
feet a little when she dragged the heavy bag across his rump, but made no further objection. Grunting as the full weight of the bags settled onto her shoulder, Kate bent to make herself a smaller target again and hurried to get back to Jakob's side.

  Panic gnawed at her while she fumbled the straps to open the saddlebags. She finally convinced her fingers to work and managed to unbuckle them and get the flap open. Various useful small items for camping came out first, like a magnesium fire starter and a water-proof sheet. Under a spare shirt and socks, a green plastic canteen came into view, and thankfully, it seemed full. The other bag held more camping and survival gear, including MREs, or Meals-Ready to Eat. And at the very bottom, a first aid kit. If they got out of this alive, she needed to teach Jakob how to pack. She'd expected better organization.

  She snatched the plastic box with the first aid kit up and pulled at the plastic latches, but they refused to give way. Damn. She needed the stuff in that box to help Jakob. Giving in to the desperation pounding through her head, she snatched up a fist-sized rock and hit first one latch, then the other, breaking the plastic. The contents of the box fell out into the dirt, a few band-aids, a pair of latex gloves, two gauze pads, scissors, and a roll of first aid tape.

  Kate sat back on her heels for a second, trying to figure out what to do. Jakob's wound still bled heavily, and that had to be stopped. She also needed an idea of the injury's extent. Decision made, hopefully the right one, she splashed a little water from the canteen and rinsed away some of the blood.

  She caught a decent glimpse before blood filled the furrow on his scalp again. Tears of relief spilled over. It didn't look as horrible as she'd feared. Trembling fingers tore the gauze pads open and pressed them over the bloody injury. Blood saturated the gauze in seconds despite the pressure she applied, forcing her to blindly search for the spare shirt with her other hand. With more absorbent material in place over the gauze, she kept steady pressure for what seemed like hours. And through it, she prayed while desperate tears refused to stop. She resorted to making deals with God. If He allowed to Jakob to survive, she would give him up.

  Ajax blew a little and shuffled his hooves, restless. The noise stirred Kate back to the present, reminding her they still weren't safe. The quarter-sized spot of blood that had leaked through the spare shirt hadn't increased in size for some time, so she replaced her hand with the first aid tape. Finally, with the bulky bandage securely in place, she turned to figuring out the next problem; how the hell was she going to wake him up?

  The water in the canteen seemed the most likely possibility, but it also presented a vital resource in limited supply. The nearest source of more water was probably three hours of normal riding away. Even if she could get him on the horse, they'd be lucky to make half the usual speed riding double. So she'd better make damn sure to use the water they had sparingly.

  The small lock-blade knife she kept clipped inside her front pocket made quick work of cutting a strip from the bottom of her shirt. Careful not to waste a drop, Kate saturated the fabric and squeezed a thin trickle between Jakob's lips.

  He swallowed and groaned a little, encouraging her. The folded cloth still held enough water to wipe his face, and when she did, he groaned again, louder and stronger.

  Ajax, clearly interested in what Kate did to his master, came close and extended his nose, blowing a little. The horse grunted and nudged at Jakob's leg, gently at first, and then harder when he received no response. Finally, Jakob moved one hand a little after Kate joined the horse's efforts to wake him.

  She put a little more water on the cloth from her shirt and wiped his face again. His scant previous responses left her unprepared for him to grab her wrist in a move that resembled a striking snake more than anything.

  "Kate?" His voice was faint, but clear.

  Relief poured through her. He would be okay. "It's okay, Jakob. I've got you."

  He opened his eyes just a slit, and winced at the pain it caused. "What the hell happened?"

  "Someone shot at us. You have a shallow head wound." She kept her own voice down, wary of the sound carrying.

  "Fuck." He winced again. "They still out there?"

  For the first time since the ordeal started, her mind turned more to the shooter, more than only concern for whether bullets currently whizzed by or not. "He stopped shooting right after you fell. Hopefully he beat the hell out of here."

  "We need to hole up." His low voice, almost a whisper, forced her to lean close to make out what he said.

  "Yeah I know, and we can't do it here. You able to move?" Her bad leg gave a warning twinge, no doubt brought on by too long in the unusual position.

  "No, but I'll deal." A deep groan accompanied his effort to sit up.

  Kate hurried to slide her arm behind his shoulders to help steady him, and with her assistance, he finally made it. "Go easy. It won't do us any good if you knock yourself out again."

  "No time for easy." He gave a low whistle, and Ajax came close. Jakob reached up and used the stirrup to pull himself upright, where he stood, unsteady and sick looking.

  Doubt filled Kate. How the hell was she supposed to get them out of there and to a safe place to camp? And she couldn't very well leave him there and go for help alone. He'd be vulnerable to predators, both human and animal.

  Jakob stood there clutching the saddle, while Ajax stood patiently, totally unlike the high-spirited horse she knew. "Steady me. When I'm up, tie my hands to the saddle. We'll have to go double so you can help me stay."

  "We'd have to ride double anyway. Sunny took off." Saying that hurt, more than she'd expected. The horse she always chose as the steadiest of all her stock had panicked and bolted at gunfire. Should have heeded all those warnings about pride.

  He didn't say anything though, just grunted and started to climb into the saddle. Kate kept her hands at his waist, trying to prevent him from falling. After what seemed like endless effort, he sat in the saddle, his balance precarious and dangerous. She hurried to cut one of the leather strips dangling from the front of the saddle for tying things in place, and looped the string around the saddlehorn and his wrists to help him stay in place.

  Next came the hard part. Ajax sensed her nervousness and rolled his eyes a little, but he stood when she took up the reins and positioned him next to a rock the right height. He stood exactly where she put him, and allowed her to slide her leg over and mount from the rock. Cautious, both of the horse and flying bullets, she started him forward.

  The way Ajax moved felt odd with his longer strides and higher front quarters, and made her worry she would slide off backwards. She fought the instinct to tighten the reins to keep herself on the horse, and forced herself to concentrate on moving with him.

  "He's seat and hands, not so much leg. You'll do fine, just trust him." Jakob's head lolled forward as he presumably lost consciousness again.

  Kate debated whether to attempt to wake him again. Despite the rule about keeping someone with a concussion awake, it might be easier for him if he didn't feel all the pain the ride was going to cause. She ended up wrapping her arms snug around his waist to make sure he didn't slip, and let him stay out. It might be a mistake, but she really didn't have a practical option anyway.

  At least he'd given her a hint on how to control the horse more effectively. After a bit, she became somewhat accustomed to the feel of Ajax's gait, but she still hesitated to ask him for more speed, despite the need to get where they were going as quickly as possible. The horse seemed to sense the need and slipped smoothly into a faster gait, ignoring her direction to slow back to a walk. She seemed to have very little control over the big horse, except he readily changed direction at her urging. At least she had that.

  Gradually, her nerves gave way to something like trust, as the horse navigated rough ground as smoothly as he moved when the going was easy. She could definitely see the appeal of having a horse like him for long trails.

  Finally, the copse of trees along Cherry Creek came into view.
Ajax sped up a little as if he sensed their destination lay close. Kate didn't even bother trying to slow him, as anxious to get the ride over with as he no doubt was. Carrying double took a steep toll on any horse over a distance. It was a quick way to do permanent damage.

  It only took a few more minutes to get to the campsite they'd used when they hunted the mountain lion. She stopped the horse next to the fire pit and slid down. Now how the hell was she supposed to get Jakob down without hurting him? At close to eighteen hands tall, the top of Ajax's back was roughly six feet off the ground, and the saddle added another six inches. A fall from that height, even at a standstill, could cause serious damage.

  No choice really. All she could was try to control his fall and prevent him from being hurt worse. She cut the string holding his hands to the saddlehorn, braced herself to take some of his weight, and tugged on his arm.

  God, he weighed a ton. He nearly bore her to the ground with him, but somehow, she stood. She even kept his head from hitting the ground hard. For the first time, she felt like she might actually manage to keep them both alive.

  Ajax blew, probably in relief, and turned to nudge Jakob.

  Ever conscious of the rule to take care of the horse first, so the horse could take care of her, Kate quickly loosened the saddle girth and dragged the eighty pound saddle and rigging off his back. Everything else could wait a few minutes.

  In too much of a hurry for modesty, she stripped off her own shirt and headed for the creek. Shirt soaked, she made herself slow down enough to watch her footing. She couldn't do anything for Jakob sprawled flat on her face with a broken ankle.

  Finally, Kate reached his side and knelt to wipe his face with the cold cloth. After a moment his eyelids fluttered and he moaned. He opened his eyes a little, then seemed to think better of it and closed them again.

  "Where are we?"

  "Cherry Creek. Where we camped when we hunted the mountain lion."