Stealing the Biker's Heart (Dogs of Fire: Savannah Chapter, #2)

Home > Romance > Stealing the Biker's Heart (Dogs of Fire: Savannah Chapter, #2) > Page 18
Stealing the Biker's Heart (Dogs of Fire: Savannah Chapter, #2) Page 18

by Piper Davenport


  “We should get going,” Badger said.

  “Now, listen very carefully. We’re going to drop you off a few blocks away, where a cab is waiting for you. I think this car is much better suited for Quin anyway, don’t you agree?”

  Michael sneered.

  “Hey, Badger, would you look at that.” I laughed. “Turns out, this was a carjacking after all.”

  After taking the registration out of the glove box, I turned my attention back to Michael. “You have exactly forty-eight hours to get out of Georgia, never to cross state lines again. You’ve only begun to see how long the Dog’s reach is, so do not test me on this. I’ll burn you down and piss on your grave to put the flames out. I’ll also expect to see signed divorce papers within the week. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” was all he said.

  “Great. Go ahead and sign this over to my sister,” I instructed, handing him the registration and a pen.

  Once he’d written “bill of sale” on the back of the registration, we drove in silence to the drop-off point.

  When we arrived, a yellow cab was waiting at the designated spot, and I pulled Michael out of the car, to talk with him privately. Getting right in his face, I said, “One more thing. If you ever so much as think of Jasmine Buckley, I’ll know about it, and I’ll start with those nine other fingers. I won’t stop until there’s not an unbroken bone in your body. Be good, Michael, ’cause I’ll be watching.”

  With that, I got back into the Tesla, and we drove off, leaving the trash by the side of the road.

  Jasmine

  One month later, I headed to Miss Opal’s home and was greeted by her butler before he led me to the solarium. Alamo and Badger had confirmed that Michael was gone... off to Colorado, after signing the divorce papers and leaving Quin a generous settlement. We’d all breathed a giant sigh of relief as we made plans to get on with our lives.

  Coincidentally, no new murders had occurred since Michael left, and I worried that if Michael was in fact the Gentleman Strangler, we might have just moved the monster to another state. Alamo assured me he was being watched in Colorado, so if he stepped out of line, we’d know about it.

  “Jasmine,” Opal said, her smile wide and welcoming. “Good morning.”

  “Hi, Miss Opal,” I said, leaning down to hug her gently. “How are you this morning?”

  “I’m real good now that you’re here.” She reached up and patted the side of her head. “But I need help with this hair.”

  “Well, let’s fix that.”

  She smiled, and we began our normal routine. Everything was perfectly uneventful. I had no idea how quickly the peace would end.

  * * *

  Alamo

  I had just climbed under a car when my phone buzzed. I ignored it, but when it buzzed again, I slid out again and sat up. “Hey, Shadow.”

  “Hey. How long does Jasmine’s appointment with the old lady typically take?”

  “About an hour. Why?”

  “It’s been two and she hasn’t come out of the house. She’s also not answering her texts.”

  I frowned. Jasmine didn’t know Shadow was still following her, but until they caught the man who’d been terrorizing the city, I wasn’t taking any chances. “Hold on. Let me call her.”

  I scrolled to her number and dialed. Voicemail, so I left a message, then flipped back over to Shadow. “No answer. Need you to get in there, Shadow. I’m on my way.”

  “On it,” Shadow promised, and I hung up.

  “Mike!” I bellowed.

  “Yeah, boss?”

  “Emergency. Gotta head out.”

  “Okay. Need anything?”

  “Just focus on Mrs. Johnson’s Tercel,” I said. “She needs it today.”

  “No problem, man.”

  I climbed on my bike and peeled out of the parking lot, rushing to Jasmine’s appointment, hoping that I was overreacting, and we’d laugh about this later.

  * * *

  Jasmine

  I couldn’t breathe. Not well, anyway. My head pounded, and I tried to lift my hand to rub my head... but I couldn’t. I was tied down. What the hell happened? The last thing I remember was helping Opal out of her chair, so she could use the restroom. Then... Then, what?

  “Well, good afternoon, sweetheart,” Thomas crooned. “I’m sorry I had to give you a little sedative to relax you. You’ll find it difficult to catch your breath, but that will pass. Just breathe slowly until the effects of the medicine lessen.”

  I lifted my head and forced myself not to panic. I was tied down to a wooden table (I think)... and dressed in old-fashioned clothing. Forties, maybe?

  “Thomas. What’s going on?”

  I asked the question, but I was painfully aware I knew the answer. Michael wasn’t the killer... Thomas was. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried not to throw up. I felt his hand on my face and I started, my eyes flying open.

  “I had plans for us, you know,” he said, his face sad, but his eyes dancing with anticipation. It was creepy as hell.

  “Plans?”

  “To take over the world. Figuratively, of course.” He smiled. “We were going to be the newest Savannah power couple. Our children and grandchildren would be envied for generations.”

  I glanced around the room. It looked like a wine cellar. “Where are we?”

  He chuckled. “All will be revealed, sweetheart.”

  “Thomas. Don’t do this.”

  “You don’t know what I plan to do yet, darling. Patience is a virtue.”

  I swallowed. “You killed those women, didn’t you?”

  “Shh, don’t fret. This will all be over soon.”

  “What will?”

  “You’ve left me no choice, Jasmine,” he said, not answering my question, and moved out of sight. “You broke the rules.”

  “What rules?”

  He appeared before me again, donning latex gloves. “We don’t mix with scum.”

  “We?”

  “Society, sweetheart. You’re far too good for the likes of a biker.”

  I swallowed, then took a deep breath. “Thomas, I’m sorry I hurt you, truly. That was not my intention.”

  “Now is a great time to make it up to me.” His hand slid up my thigh and between my legs, pressing into me roughly. I grimaced and tried to move away. He squeezed my thigh and I whimpered in pain. “You’re going to like this, Jasmine, I promise. I’ll wipe all memory of the biker bastard from your mind.”

  I felt tears leak down my face as Thomas pushed the skirt I was wearing up over my hips. God, this could not be happening.

  “Wait. Thomas. Whose clothes are these?” I asked, trying to distract him. “They’re a little tight.”

  He appeared in front of me again. “I know, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Grandma’s a little smaller than you.”

  “Is this... um... where you took those other women?”

  I didn’t actually want to know, but I needed to keep him talking. I needed Alamo to find me. I needed out of this room.

  “No. This place is just for you. I know how much you love wine. But we’ll imbibe later. During dinner. First things first.”

  He unbuttoned my blouse and spread it open, the cold hitting my skin and making my nipples tighten painfully.

  “You know, I’ve always dreamt of what your breasts would look like in my hands,” Thomas said, and cupped them. “They are so much better than I imagined.”

  “Don’t. Please,” I begged on a sob. “Don’t do this. You don’t want to do this.”

  “On the contrary, Jasmine, I’ve wanted to do this for several years.” He squeezed harder, but I couldn’t pull away. All I could do was hold my breath and pray for it to be over quickly. He grabbed a knife and pressed it into my skin, just above my right nipple and I cried out at the excruciating pain.

  The next few seconds moved in slow motion. Thomas dropped his head to my breast and licked at the blood, then he raised the knife and I knew I was dead.

  “Drop it!”
a deep voice demanded.

  I squeezed my eyes shut just as a bang echoed in the room and I was suddenly covered in something warm and wet, and heavy. I screamed, keeping my eyes shut, no idea what new hell I was about to experience.

  “Don’t touch anything,” a deep voice demanded.

  I kept my eyes closed, hoping I’d pass out... or something. Anything. I just wanted this over.

  “Get him the fuck off her, Dalt,” Alamo ordered.

  I opened my eyes and followed the sound of his voice... then burst into tears as Thomas’s body was pulled off of me. “Mo.”

  He closed the distance between us and slid his gun back in its holster, slipping out of his jacket and laying it over me. “I’m here, baby. We’re gonna get you out as soon as we can.”

  Pulling a knife out of his pocket, he cut my ties and I threw my arms around him.

  “She’s evidence, Alamo,” the large man standing over Thomas warned.

  “Don’t give a fuck, Dalt,” Alamo said, and helped me stand, pushing the skirt I was wearing down to cover me again. As soon as my feet touched the floor, pain shot up my legs, and I cried out.

  “Fuck!” Alamo snapped, and lifted me back on the table. “Goddammit. What did he do?”

  “I don’t know. Everything hurts.” At least everything below the knee. “How did I not notice that before?”

  “Drugs and adrenaline,” Dalton said, holding up a vial of something. “Morphine.”

  I took a deep breath and gripped Alamo’s shoulders. “Can you get those shoes off my feet, please?” The shoes Thomas had jammed on my feet were at least two sizes too small.

  Dalton gave Alamo a nod, tossing a pair of gloves to him. “Put those on first.”

  Alamo pulled on the gloves, then removed the shoes as gently as he could. It gave me no relief whatsoever. In fact, everything hurt more. “Mo, I’m going to be sick.”

  Dalton threw him a plastic evidence bag, but I intercepted it, and held it to my mouth. Just in time. Alamo rubbed my back as I wretched into the plastic.

  Once my stomach calmed, an annoying itch took over my face. I reached up to wipe my cheek, but Alamo stopped me. “You can’t touch, baby.”

  I grimaced. “His blood’s on me, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t go there, Firefly. It’ll all be over soon.”

  “Did you shoot him?”

  He studied me. “If I said yes?”

  “I’d kiss you.”

  “If I said no?”

  “I’d still kiss you, I’d just be a little bummed,” I confessed.

  “I’ll fill you in when we’re alone.”

  “Did someone call EMTs?” a voice called out.

  “Down here,” Alamo bellowed, and wrapped an arm around my waist when I reached for him. “I’ve got you.”

  I was loaded into the ambulance with Alamo, and rushed to the hospital. The next three hours were an excruciating exercise in degradation in the form of a rape kit and thorough exam. I knew I’d never forget it, which caused even more stress as I was poked and prodded, then informed I’d need to have surgery on my right foot. Thomas had broken several bones in both my feet (something he did to the other victims, which was information not released to the public), but a cast would suffice for my left.

  Lying in my hospital bed, in an awful hospital gown, after the drugs had pretty much run their course, I kind of lost my mind for a time. I was so distraught, Alamo climbed onto the bed beside me and pulled me into his arms. “I can’t have surgery,” I cried. “I have way too much to do. I don’t have time for this shit.”

  “I know,” he commiserated. “But you’re not gonna be alone.”

  “I’m going to have to crawl to the bathroom. Ohmigod, I won’t even be able to walk to pee.”

  “Baby, it’s okay. I’m not gonna leave your side. I’ll carry you to the bathroom if I need to.”

  “No,” I snapped. “Absolutely not. That goes way outside the bounds of a normal, healthy relationship!”

  “Jasmine,” my mother cried, rushing into the room. Dad right behind her. “Oh, my word, honey.” She hugged me gently as Alamo moved to leave the bed. I grabbed his arm and he settled back down.

  Mom cupped my face. “Are you okay? Besides the obvious?”

  “I’m okay, Mom,” I lied.

  She studied me for a few tense seconds, tears pooling in her eyes, then she nodded and smiled at Alamo. “Hi, Alamo. Thanks for finding our girl.”

  He separated from me as he gave her a nod and shook Dad’s hand, then Mom sat in the chair beside the bed. I reached for Alamo again and he took my hand, but didn’t climb on the bed again.

  By the time Jared, Kelly, Simon, and Jules arrived, I was done. I’d answered every question (twice), I’d revisited my trauma (at least what I could remember), more than I cared to, and the morphine I’d been given a few hours earlier was wearing off.

  “Mo,” I whispered, grabbing for his hand again.

  He leaned down, so we were face-to-face. “Yeah, baby?”

  “Make them go away,” I mouthed.

  He nodded and walked to the other side of the bed. “I’m going to get some ice,” he said, and headed out. I tried not to groan in frustration. I didn’t want ice. I wanted to be alone.

  A few minutes later, a nurse walked in with a smile. “I’m sorry, folks, I need to take some vitals and examine Jasmine, so I’m going to need everyone to leave.”

  “Oh, okay,” Mom said. “We’ll be just outside.”

  “Wait, Mom.”

  She hung back and waited for everyone else to leave, before sitting on the side of the bed. “What do you need, baby?”

  “I need everyone to go home.” I bit back tears. “Please.”

  I watched her war with her emotions before lifting my hand to her cheek and pressing it against the softness of her skin. “I hear you, sweetheart. I hate that I can’t help you. I hate that I can’t take this pain from you.”

  “I know, Mama.” Tears slid down my cheeks. “I’m sorry I’m kicking everyone out. I wish—”

  “Baby girl, you do whatever you need to do in order heal. We are here for you, even if we can’t be physically here, okay? I am coming for your surgery tomorrow, though. No arguments.”

  “I would seriously appreciate that. Thanks, Mama.”

  She hugged me and rose to her feet just as Alamo walked back in with a bucket of ice. Mom walked over to Alamo and hugged him. “Take care of her.”

  “I will,” he promised.

  Mom blew me a kiss, then left the room, and I heard her wrangling everyone and telling them they had to go.

  “Let’s get you something for the pain,” the nurse said, and pressed a needle into my IV.

  “Thank you,” I whispered as the pain left my body.

  She left the room and Alamo sat beside me, leaning down to kiss me gently. “You feelin’ better?”

  I nodded. “You didn’t make my family leave.”

  He squeezed my hand. “I didn’t want to alienate us from your family, so I asked a nurse to kick ’em out.”

  “Oh,” I whispered. “That was smart.”

  “I know, baby. It’s why I did it.” He smiled. “Do you want me to leave? I will if you need me to.”

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Good answer, Firefly.”

  “Please don’t ever leave me,” I begged.

  “Baby, I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

  I nodded, closing my eyes, feeling tears slide down my face. The bed dipped, and I was gathered gently against his chest where I sobbed until I had nothing left.

  Then I slept.

  Jasmine

  Once I was released from the hospital, Alamo took me home. His home. There was no way I’d be able to hobble up and down the stairs to my condo, so he insisted we go to his home just outside the city.

  Pulling up to his house, I was pleasantly surprised. It was an historic craftsman that appeared to have been completely restored. “Oh, Mo, it’s beautiful.”<
br />
  “Hopefully, Quin cleaned it. She promised she would.”

  I reached for his hand. “Thank you, honey. I really didn’t want to go to my parents’.”

  “I didn’t want you to go to your parents’ either. I want you within yelling distance.” He grinned. “I’ll get your chair.”

  I had been given a wheelchair for the next two weeks or so, just until I could put weight on one or both feet enough to use crutches. Alamo dragged the chair out of the trunk, then opened my door and lifted me out of the car, settling me in and laying my bag on my lap.

  “Badger put a ramp in to make it easier to move you around,” Alamo said, wheeling me to the side of the house and up the newly constructed ramp. Badger had been working construction since he was a teenager, so he was an expert on most building projects.

  “That was sweet.”

  After unlocking the door, he wheeled me inside and I couldn’t contain my shock. “Ohmigod, Mo, this place is amazing.”

  Exposed beams on vaulted ceilings, a gorgeous wood-burning fireplace with built-in bookshelves flanking it, were the centerpiece to a large flat-screen television with a comfy chocolate brown sectional facing it. His kitchen was modern, but classic, with hickory cabinets and granite countertops that had blues, greens, and greys mixed throughout. It was unique and kind of funky. Much like my man.

  He leaned over me. “You thought you’d walk into a bachelor pad, huh?”

  I grimaced. “Little bit.”

  He chuckled. “Well, it was until yesterday. Quin went shopping.”

  I reached up and cupped his face. “God, I love you, Valen Slater.”

  “Love you right back, Jasmine Buckley.” He straightened and leaned against the back of the sofa. “You want to eat or crash, or what?”

  “I really want to wash my hair.” I hadn’t been able to shower for a couple of days because I couldn’t get my bandages wet.

  “I’ll get the tub ready and you can hang your legs over the side.”

  “Okay,” I said, feeling a blush rush my cheeks.

  He hunkered down beside my chair. “You embarrassed?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “Why, baby?”

 

‹ Prev