by Katie Ashley
She took it and smiled at him. “Thank you. That was very kind of you. Please thank your girlfriend for me as well.”
Chulo grinned sheepishly. “If it’s all the same with you, I would prefer not to mention that I was giving some strange woman her clothes.”
Ghost nodded. “Lucia would beat his ass if she thought he was cheating.”
While I chuckled, Annabel murmured, “Oh.” Her face tinged pink. “Well, thank you anyway.” When she started off the bed, her face came to eye level with my chest. For a moment, she paused as she stared at my intricate tattoos. She even took the time to read some of the lined verses. The longer she remained pressed against me, the more convoluted my feelings became. I inwardly berated myself for even momentarily enjoying the feel of having her so near to me. What kind of sick asshole would I be if I was remotely thinking of Annabel in an intimate way?
Finally her gaze swept to mine. “I—uh—I’ll go get ready now.”
“Okay,” I replied as I was grateful for her to put some distance between us.
She hurried past me into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.
“Sorry we scared her, Rev,” Ghost said apologetically.
“It’s okay. I should’ve mentioned you guys might be coming by.”
As the shower turned on, Ghost stared past me to the bathroom. “How’s she doin’?”
I shrugged as I reached for a clean shirt. “Good as can be expected, I guess.”
“I guess she knows to get the hell out of Texas, right?”
“Yes. She knows.” When I pulled my cut on over my shirt, Chulo whistled and shook his head. “What?” I asked.
“Don’t be wearing colors at the border. That’ll get your shit flagged.”
“Oh, okay.” I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of that myself. As I pulled off my cut, I asked, “You think we’re going to have any problems getting out of the country?”
Chulo’s dark eyes narrowed. “You doubting our paperwork ability?”
“Of course not. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say your comment about the cut spooked me a little.”
“Mendoza has no idea who it was who took his girl. Yet. You have that in your favor.”
“Thanks for the pep talk,” I joked as I thumped Chulo on the back.
“Just covering all the bases, man. We’re still waiting for any confirmation on whether Mendoza is alive.”
The bathroom door cracked open, and Annabel stuck just her head out. “Why is there hair dye in the bag?”
Ghost ran his hand over his beard. “Yeah, uh, about that. I forgot to mention you would need to change up how you look. You know, since your red hair would really stand out at the border check.”
Annabel’s green eyes widened. “Am I in that much danger?” she asked, her voice wavering in fear.
“It’s only a precaution,” I assured her while Chulo added, “And we made you a brunette on your passport.”
“Wait, how did you get my picture?”
“The less you know, the better,” Chulo replied.
While she didn’t seem satisfied with his response, smart girl that she was, she didn’t question him any further. Instead, she ducked her head back inside the bathroom and shut the door.
After I stuffed my cut into my bag, I turned back to Chulo. “Anything else I need to know about getting across the border?”
“I think everything should be fine. Once you’re through the checkpoint, I would advise burning daylight and not stopping until you get halfway across Texas.” He grimaced. “’Course you got a senorita with you who’ll probably start bitchin’ to stop and take a leak or something.”
I chuckled. “I think we’ll make it fine. Annabel doesn’t impress me as the high-maintenance type.”
“For your sake, I hope you’re right,” Chulo replied.
Ghost threw out his hand. “We gotta be going, brother.”
I smacked his palm and then drew him to me for a hug. “Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for all your help.”
“Sticking it to the Diablos was good fucking fun,” he replied.
With a laugh, I pulled away. “We still owe you. Even though we’re going legit, we’re here for you guys when you need us.”
“Glad to hear it. Don’t hesitate to call us if you need anything.”
“I appreciate it.”
After exchanging handshakes and hugs with Chulo and Snake, the El Paso Raiders headed out the door. It was only a few moments later that Annabel emerged from the bathroom. I couldn’t stop myself from doing a double take. It wasn’t so much the baggy pair of jeans or the oversized, almost fluorescent, orange and lime green shirt. It was more about the fact that she looked completely different as a brunette.
At what must have been my lengthy stare, she brought her hand self-consciously to her hair. “Does it look okay?”
“Yeah. It looks great. No way would anyone recognize you now.”
She appeared relieved that a slight alteration would help disguise her identity. “I’m just glad it’s the kind that will wash out in a few days.” As she gazed down at herself, she said, “I know it’s probably a lot to ask, but when we get ready to stop for the night, I would really like to find some new clothes.”
I smiled. “I think I can handle that.”
“Thank you.”
“Ready?”
She nodded. “I think I’m all packed,” she mused.
I laughed at the forced good humor in her statement. “I do like a woman who can travel light,” I replied as I slung my bag over my shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Even though we were in the relative safety of the hospital, I kept Annabel tucked close to my side. I wasn’t taking any chances. When we got outside, we both had to shield our eyes from the glaring sun. We had spent two days under the fluorescent hospital lights.
After peering around the parking lot, Annabel asked, “Where’s the car?”
“Bishop and Breakneck are bringing it here.”
“It gets its own escort?”
I laughed. “I guess you could say that. The El Paso Raiders wanted to make sure it was kept safe until we needed it.”
“Safe from what exactly?” she asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. Something along the lines of being rigged with explosives.”
Annabel frowned as she lamented, “So many precautions just for me.”
“It’s not just for you. It’s for me as well.”
“But you only need protection because you took me from Mendoza.”
After shifting my bag on my arm, I shook my head at her. “Even if I had left you to die, I would still be a marked man. I helped storm the home of a Rodriguez cartel lieutenant where not only was his latest batch of girls ‘destroyed,’ but there was a substantial amount of money taken as well.”
“I guess I didn’t realize how much risk you had taken on.”
Without realizing that she was probably still skittish when it came to being touched by men, I reached over and brushed a strand of dark hair out of her face. Her green eyes widened, but she didn’t jerk away. “Sorry I had to rain on your little martyr parade.”
She gave a bark of a laugh. “Smart-ass.”
It was good to see her being lighthearted. We were interrupted by the roaring sound of incoming bikes. I jerked my head to the left to see Bishop and Breakneck pulling up to the curb. Following close behind them were two cars.
Even before I was told, I knew which one was for us. It looked to be a mid-to late-1980s Oldsmobile. It was the kind of car you didn’t have to worry about getting stolen because it was so hideous-looking no one would give it a second glance. But the engine sounded good, so it would do its job by getting us back to Georgia.
“Glad to see you guys. For a minute, I thought you had forgotten us,” I said.
Bishop grinned. “Forget your pain in the ass? Never.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered with a smile. “You guys holding back for an hour or two before heading to the border?�
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“Yep. Don’t want to draw any unnecessary suspicion,” Bishop replied.
When my gaze cut over to Breakneck, I couldn’t help feeling a slight pang in my chest at the sight of him on my bike. “You take good care of her, okay?”
Breakneck smiled. “Quit wringing your hands like an old woman. I’ve been ridin’ longer than you’ve been alive, you little jerk-off, so get it out of your head that I’m going to fuck up your bike.”
I punched him playfully in the arm. “Thanks, asshole.” Truth be told, I was grateful to see him smiling, period.
“Whatcha think of the car?” Bishop asked Annabel. I knew he was goading her just to get a reaction. He couldn’t seem to let go of the fact that she was an “uptown girl,” as he jokingly called her. He had thought the same thing about our now sister-in-law, Alexandra, when we first met her, but Annabel and her privileged upbringing put even Alexandra to shame.
Although I’m sure she had never ridden in anything that wasn’t brand-new, Annabel smiled sweetly at Bishop. “Looks great. You know, if it’s older than twenty years, you can consider it an antique, and I love antiques.”
Shaking his head, Bishop grinned. “Oh, I do think I’m going to like having you back with us in Georgia, Uptown Girl.”
“High praise indeed,” she replied. Of course, she had no idea that when it came to Bishop, it really was the highest of praise.
“Okay, we should get going,” I said.
As Annabel started to the car, Breakneck said, “I put a pillow and blanket in the back. The moment you get through border check, you need to lie down.”
Annabel whirled around. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“I do. And last time I checked, I was the physician here.”
I braced myself for an argument, considering Annabel’s stubbornness, but instead she merely held up her hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. I’ll rest.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. Another good thing about that car is the wide backseat.”
“Lucky me,” Annabel muttered as she opened the passenger-side door.
Breakneck reached in the pocket of his cut and pulled out a bottle of pills, which he handed to me. “Those are some painkillers in case she needs them.”
“Thanks. I’ll make sure she gets them.”
“There’s enough for both of you in there.”
“I’m fine.” With a smile, I offered him a joke from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. “’Tis just a flesh wound. I’d hardly admit to being shot when I barely got hit.”
Breakneck gave me a no-nonsense look. “You still need to take care of yourself. I know you’re going to be busting ass to get out of Texas, but you’re going to need to stop and stretch your leg some.”
“Okay. I will.”
Breakneck gave a slight nod before sliding his helmet back on.
“See you guys back home sometime this week,” I said.
Bishop nodded. “Be safe, brother. Let us know where you are and how it’s going.”
“Sure thing.” Then I slid into the driver’s seat, where I was blinded by the reflection from a set of sequined dice. “Jesus,” I muttered before removing them and throwing them in the glove box.
“Not exactly your style?” Annabel questioned teasingly.
“Smart-ass.” She smiled at me as I put the car into drive.
We had about a thirty-minute trip to the border. While El Paso and Juárez were separated only by the Paso del Norte bridge over the Rio Grande, both Mendoza’s compound and the hospital had been tucked far away from the city.
At first we drove in silence. When Annabel started to fidget in her seat, I asked, “Nervous about the border crossing?”
She nodded. “A little.”
By the way she was acting, I could tell her obvious fear was about more than just the border. “Tell me what else is bothering you.”
With a grimace, she replied, “It’s just little flashbacks of coming over with the Diablos.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. Guess it’s to be expected.”
“Yes, it is.” When she continued wringing her hands and crossing and uncrossing her legs, I asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Part of me does and the other part of me is afraid to. Like once I let go a little, I’ll just be opening myself up to emotional chaos.”
“It’s a bad metaphor, but a Pandora’s box of sorts?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Cocking her head at me, she said, “I hope this doesn’t sound snobby, but it surprises me to hear you speak of metaphors.”
“Because I’m supposed to be a dumb biker?”
Her face flushed. “I’m sorry. I hate when people have preconceived notions and end up stereotyping, and here I am doing it myself.”
I chuckled. “It’s okay, Annabel. Most bikers spout metaphors all the time, but they have no fucking clue what the actual term means. For me, I’ve always been an intellectual. I’ve been a reader as far back as when I was a kid, but after the rape, I seemed to enjoy escaping into fictional worlds more and more. Then, as I got a little older, I started wanting to read about history—presidents, soldiers, kings, and emperors. I figured I could learn something from them.”
“How fascinating,” she replied, with true sincerity.
“Most of my family wouldn’t share your praise. They think because I got a two-year degree from community college and can spout off quotes from literature, I’m trying to be above my raising.”
“But they’re so wrong.” She shook her head. “You’re truly a Renaissance man. As for me, I don’t know anything but math and science.”
“That’s what you needed to know to be a vet.”
She gasped. “How did you know . . . Oh, right, I told you in the hospital, didn’t I?”
I nodded. “Actually, I had already found out a lot about you through your missing-persons information.”
“Oh, I see,” she murmured.
“Don’t worry. It was nothing embarrassing.”
She laughed. “I would hope not.” Turning slightly in her seat to face me, she said, “Quote something for me.”
“What?”
“You said you could quote literature. I would love to hear something.”
“Seriously?”
Her face brightened. “Yes, please.”
“Okay, then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Once again, the sweet peals of her laughter rang in my ear.
“ ‘It was many and many a year ago, / In a kingdom by the sea, / That a maiden there lived whom you may know / By the name of Annabel Lee.’ ”
Annabel’s green eyes widened in delight. “You know Poe’s ‘Annabel Lee’?”
“I do. I know ‘The Raven’ as well. Poe’s a personal favorite of mine.”
“I was named for Annabel Lee.”
With a grin, I told her, “I had a hunch.”
“My sister is Lenore from ‘The Raven.’”
“Your parents must have a love for Poe as well.”
“My mother majored in English in college.” Annabel rolled her eyes. “Mainly she was there to get the all-important MRS degree, but she managed to snag my father and finish college.”
I laughed. “I can’t help but wonder how someone like you came from two such horrible people.”
She smiled. “That’s a good question. It’s one I often ask myself as well.”
My amusement was short-lived when I saw we had come upon the border checkpoint. Annabel let out a small squeak of alarm as she shot straight up in her seat. “It’s going to be fine. We can count on the Raiders to make excellent documents. We’ll get right through.”
“Okay,” she replied softly.
“But try not to look suspicious.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “I look suspicious?”
“When you look like you’re going to piss your pants.”
She giggled, and I was glad to ease the tension in the ca
r. “Okay, okay. I’ll be calm. I’ll be the best Mary Jones I can be,” she replied, alluding to the name on her passport.
Slowly, the car inched along in the line. When we reached the inspector, I rolled the window down and handed him our passports. He gazed at our pictures and then back at us. Time seemed to tick by agonizingly slowly. Beads of sweat, both from the heat and from my nerves, began to form on the back of my neck.
The officer handed our passports over to another man. He also took his time eyeing us and the documents. Just as I felt the tension threaten to overwhelm Annabel, the man stamped the passports and handed them back to the first officer.
After he shoved them back at me, he waved us on. The moment the car passed through, I exhaled the breath I had been holding. Once we were out of their sight, I gunned the engine, and like Chulo had instructed me, I began to put as much distance as I could between us and the border.
NINE
Manuel Mendoza peered at the blackened desolation of his once-thriving trafficking camp. With his upper lip curled in disgust, he surveyed the construction workers scrambling around the land. It had been one fucking week since those cocksuckers had breached what should have been an impenetrable fortress. His first act after the fires were extinguished was to put a bullet in the head of the man in charge of his security.
Once that was done, he’d had his remaining men search the compound for his Roja. Just picturing her beautiful red hair and creamy white skin sent an ache through his groin. He had beaten her within an inch of her life, but he knew he was justified in his actions. The cunt had called out another man’s name when he was fucking her. After everything he had done for her, for her to betray him like that . . . She deserved the violent beating.
When the search of the compound came up empty, he remembered destroying his bedroom in a rage. He had intended for no other man to ever have her—and now she was in the hands of the people who had stormed his compound.
If she’d lived.
He clung to the hope that she hadn’t. For if she was alive, the moment he learned where she was he was going after her. She was his, and she would die by his hands like she should have before.
“Lo siento for the interruption, boss.” It was the sniveling voice of one of his soldiers.
