The Novella Collection: A series of short stories for the Pushing the Limits series, Thunder Road series, and Only a Breath Apart

by Katie McGarry

  “Stop fighting, and come with me now.”

  The door clicks shut behind us, and I shiver at the cold and indifferent voice. We’re in an alley in the back, and a utility light casts a glow over us. I look up and into the deepest brown eyes on the planet. This guy is taller than me, thick with muscle, doesn’t appear much older than me, but there’s a silent power about him that warns anyone within ten feet to allow a wide berth.

  I’ve seen this guy before, a Reign of Terror member, but I don’t know him. I’m vaguely familiar with some of the members since my best friend Breanna has been dating Razor. A chill runs through me as I can’t decide if I should be thrilled it’s not the deputy or if I should run back into the arms of law enforcement.

  “Who are you?” I ask.

  “I’m Dust. A friend of Razor’s, and I was asked to watch over you. If you’re looking to run, I’ll help, but we have to leave now.”

  “Where?” I’m thankful my voice comes out stronger than I feel, as my knees are super weak.

  “Wherever you want, but your friend Breanna’s at the clubhouse. Do you want to start there?”

  Breanna, my best friend. If I’m safe with anyone, it’s with her.

  “We don’t have time for waffling. We go, or you walk back in. Take your pick.”

  Terrified of heading home, I make the easy choice. “Take me to Breanna.”

  Chapter 14

  Pigpen

  Rapidly moving pieces don’t make me happy. Especially when I haven’t had time to study the rules of the game, and I hate it more when all my players aren’t even on the field. In fact, most of my players are still listening to music in the locker room. Thank God Dust is in motion; otherwise, I probably would have lost the whole war. Losing the war is still a possibility, but at least now I have a fighting chance.

  Even though we have problems, I’m slow maneuvering through the crowd in the clubhouse. Most people pat my back, call out for me to hang, even offer me beers. Though I’m in sloth mode as I slip out, I’m a man on a mission. There’s no sense being dramatic and stomping my feet. I’ve found I get my way by being cool, calm and collected.

  If you act like you don’t give a damn, most of the time, people will hand you what you want. Must be some reverse psychology crap going on, but who knows.

  Eli’s in the same place I saw him last, on the steps of the house, soaking in his daughter from a distance. Emily’s chatting with her friends. With the way Oz keeps looking at her and running his hand along her back, through her hair, it won’t be long until he’ll be searching for some time away from Eli’s watchful eyes.

  I cross the grass, and I gape at the sight of Eli and Chevy’s mom sharing a casual conversation that includes some chuckles. This day is full of surprises.

  I make a slow approach, go out of my way to step on a stick, slide my feet so that my footsteps are known. I was an Army Ranger and could go stealth at any point, but it’s better in this scenario if they hear me coming. It’ll break up this conversation faster.

  Eli and Nina glance in my direction. Oddly, they’re both grinning. I didn’t know it was possible for either of them to show the slightest amount of happiness in each other’s presence. The four horsemen of the apocalypse must be at my six because this is unreal. “What’s up, chief?”

  “Nothing much.” Eli sets down his beer, and we share a short clasp of hands.

  I nod toward Nina, and she nods back. While she’s fought with most people in the club, the two of us have never had problems. She’s aware my heart has always belonged to these kids.

  I need to talk to Eli alone, so I go direct. “I’m grumpy, Eli.”

  Both of his eyebrows rise because that’s the equivalent of me announcing someone has a gun to my head.

  I shrug my shoulders in fake annoyance. “I thought we were friends, and I’ve been waiting at that bar all night for you to buy me a beer, and nothing. You’re a terrible friend.”

  “You men are strange,” Nina says in a light tone, and I offer her a wink and a lopsided grin because I don’t disagree.

  Reading my intent clearly, both Eli and Nina stand. Nina smooths out her jeans, looks at me and then offers Eli a shy glance. “Thank you for keeping me company.”

  “Are you leaving?” Eli asks, and I need to pinch myself because it almost sounded as if he wants her to stay.

  “I didn’t take tonight off, just told them I’d be in late.” Nina’s a bartender in town.

  “Do you want someone to ride in with you?” Eli rubs a hand over his head like he’s a nervous teenager. That’s interesting.

  There’s a slight roll of her eyes. So slight, it was hard to catch, but it was there. “I’ve been a big girl capable of taking care of myself for a long time, but thank you for the offer. You gentlemen have a good evening.” She doesn’t look at either of us like we’re gentlemen, and that’s what is admittedly sexy.

  Nina’s not my type—not when I’m stuck on an English teacher who’s out of my league—but Eli’s still looking. I shove my hands in my pockets and wait. Eli will eventually stop staring at Nina as she walks away, and the build-up to this is worth it.

  One second toward busting his balls. Two seconds toward busting his balls. Three…it continues long enough that when Eli slowly swings his attention to me, the smile on my face tastes like a full steak dinner with apple pie for dessert. À la mode because ice cream makes everything better.

  Once he meets my eyes, his head drops. I love my life.

  “Chevy’s mom?” I say with the right amount of Nina and Eli sitting in a tree without having to sing the k-i-s-s-i-n-g.

  “You’re annoying,” Eli responds.

  I didn’t know it was possible, but I smile wider. “Yeah, I get that lot. Not to spoil this moment, but we’ve got problems.”

  “What size problems?”

  He’s going to love this. “Mia Ziggler-size problems. The type that fit on the back of a motorcycle and will be here in about five minutes.”

  Any trace of humor on his face is gone in a flash, and back is the man who knows how to hide bodies. “Mind filling me in?”

  Sad part? “I honestly don’t know much other than I’ve got an eighteen-year-old girl with bruises who just tried to run away from home via bus. The police showed at the station, and now she’s on the back of Dust’s bike, and she’s on her way here. Don’t know about you, but here I thought with the rug rats graduating, our life was going to get boring.”

  He grunts. “Why would you think that?”

  I shrug an I-don’t-know. “Stupidity, I guess. Real question should be how do we want to play this out?”

  “Carefully,” he says. “As careful as it gets.”

  Agreed.

  Chapter 15

  Addison

  I did not enjoy that motorcycle ride. It was too fast, too cold, too frightening. It was nauseating and absolutely out of control, and I don’t like out of control. I like things in their place, I like things in order, I like knowing that I have some sort of ability to save myself if needed, and on the back of that bike, it was chaos.

  Dust pulls off the gravel road and turns off his motorcycle. I’m super quick sliding off, and Dust snatches my arm as I stumble and almost faceplant. The moment I’m steady, he lets go and I back away from him, rubbing the spot he touched. I don’t like people touching me, especially guys.

  In the distance, beyond the woods are lights and the sounds of people laughing and talking. This must be the infamous Reign of Terror clubhouse. “Why are we parked so far away?”

  “To give you a chance to regain your land legs without an audience. I figured this was your first time on a bike, and the first ride can leave you shaky.”

  He’s right. My legs tremble beneath me as if I were a newborn foal. Dust swings his leg over his bike then leans against the seat, crosses his arms over his chest and stares at me. I stare back because it’s obvious he’s waiting on me, and I don’t know what he’s waiting for.

  Breanna h
as mentioned Dust before. She doesn’t know too much about him other than he’s one of the youngest members of the Reign of Terror. He has a nice build. Not the overpowering type, and not too lean. Just the right amount of muscle in his arms. He has brown hair that makes me think of the sand down at the lake, and he looks relaxed in his black biker vest, jeans, and brown work boots.

  “What do you do for a living?” I ask.

  Surprise flickers over his face. “What?”

  Okay, sure, that was out of nowhere, but I’m curious because he’s in the Reign of Terror motorcycle club, and Breanna keeps going on and on about how they don’t do illegal things. I want to know if the guy I just ran from the police with is a felon. “What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m a welder.”

  Wow. That was…unexpected.

  “I also fix cars part time. Will that do, or would you like a more formal resume in order for me to walk you to the clubhouse?”

  Hardy har-har. “So, you don’t work for the security company?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t like guns.”

  Yep, that brings me up short.

  “Can we go now?”

  I start walking along the gravel road, toward the lights and the laughter, and Dust keeps step alongside me. The woods surrounding us are dark, pitch black, an eerie sight that makes me uncomfortable.

  When I reach Breanna, she’ll have questions, plenty of questions, and I won’t know how to answer a single one. My lips purse as I realize none of what’s happening is making sense. “Do you know why I was at the bus terminal?”

  “Do you?” he counters.

  “Yes.” I graduated today and decided I couldn’t take living in my house with my abusive father one more second. I wait for Dust to level me with the millions of questions people typically ask, but there’s only stark silence and I don’t know if I like it. “You aren’t going to ask for specifics?”

  “I figure if people want you to know something, they’ll tell you. Otherwise, leave them alone.”

  “Why were you at the bus terminal?”

  “Because Pigpen told me to follow you.”

  That’s creepy and causes me to go slower. Breanna has mentioned that Pigpen is this hot, twenty-something guy in the club who is super close with Razor, and it’s weird that this Pigpen guy knows me. “Why?”

  He shrugs. “Ask him.”

  “Do you always do what you’re told to do?”

  “No.”

  “So why did you follow me?”

  “You ask a lot of questions.”

  “Because I have a lot of questions,” I press. “I’m someplace I don’t know with a complete stranger. Questions will happen. At least they should. Why did you follow me?”

  Dust halts and stares down at me. “Do you want me to take you back to the bus station? Is that where you want to be?”

  I don’t know where I want to be. I just know that I don’t want to be home. His question makes me feel small, and when it’s clear I’m not going to say anything, he starts walking again. I follow and speed up until I’m by his side again. “Are you sure Breanna’s here?”

  “She was earlier, but if she’s not we’ll have Razor hook you up with her somehow,” he says. “And in case you’re curious, I don’t think you should go home with her. I realize that familiar would seem safe, but it won’t be. If you’re trying to stay under the radar, you can’t do what’s expected of you. Running to your best friend’s house? Expected. My advice is to crash here for the night. Eli’s daughter Emily is in town, and Violet’s staying the night with her. I bet you could stay in the cabin with them.”

  “Why are you helping me?”

  He stops walking again, stares up at the stars in the sky then down at the ground. “Eli and Pigpen once picked me up from a bus station. Doing so saved my life.”

  “How?” I whisper, desperate to know if he understands the line of crazy I walk on a daily basis. Because that would be a comfort—to know I’m not alone.

  “Ask me again some other time,” he says. “Maybe I’ll tell you then. Maybe I won’t.”

  “Tell me now,” I push.

  “Do you want to know why I followed you when Pigpen asked me to?”

  I want the answer to the other question more, but knowing he won’t give it to me, I nod. Any information is better than none.

  “I followed you because evidently you have people in your life who are worried about you, and those people are connected to the club. I offered you a ride on my bike because from the moment I saw you interact with you dad at graduation, well….”

  He shuts his mouth and somehow his not finishing the sentence makes me edgy. I try to trace through every interaction I had with my father and think of what he might have seen. I wince at the memory and absently rub my arm where Dad had grabbed me.

  “I’ve been through anger,” Dust continues in a soft voice. Softer than I would have thought possible for a rough guy like him. “I’m helping you because no one else should be pushed to the point that I was, and I’m trying to help you figure out your problems without it having to go as south as it did for me.”

  There’s a weird buzzing sensation in my head as I look into the eyes of a stranger, and see for the first time someone who understands the madness in my mind. “What’s going to happen to me?”

  “That’s up to you, but first you need to know your options. So, let’s walk to the clubhouse, find your friend, and take this one step at a time. Until you decide your next move, I’ll stick around the clubhouse in case you decide you want to bail. I always feel better knowing I have an out.”

  Relief shoots through me and I could hug him for his offer, for this gift. He’s not the only one who feels more secure knowing there’s a way to leave. That’s the only way I know how to survive.

  Chapter 16

  Eli

  Pigpen and I sit on the picnic table Emily had been on earlier, and the two of us watch as Razor listens to his girlfriend, Breanna. They’re on the front porch, and her head and hands move as she speaks. Razor’s one hundred percent locked onto her every word, nodding occasionally, and his shoulders are squared like he’s ready to jump off the porch and throw the punch that will start a gang war. The kid’s quiet by nature, so the silence on his end isn’t unusual, but what hits my stomach is the intensity of his eyes. Evidently nothing she’s saying is good.

  Breanna just spent thirty minutes inside Cyrus’s cabin with her friend Addison, and from the hopelessness on Breanna’s face, Addison didn’t leave because her father asked her to clean her room.

  “If this is as bad as I think, Addison needs to leave her home.” There’s no joke to Pigpen now, and when he’s serious, my skin crawls with the sensation that death’s not too far behind.

  “I know,” I say.

  “We can call the county extension for domestic abuse,” he continues. “They’ll come get her and take her to a shelter, but I think us taking her out of town will be the better option.”

  I know that, too. “She doesn’t trust us.”

  “Mia didn’t know me, and she got on the back of my bike.”

  “But Dust trusted us, and she only left town with you because he told her that you’d lay down your life to protect her.” Truer words have never been and will never be spoken. When Pigpen’s sworn to protect someone, no one could ask for a better guardian.

  Breanna stops talking, and Razor pulls her in for a comforting hug, the type that offers strength and security. The type that hopes to hide how bad the situation really is.

  Pigpen readjusts beside me. “I keep waiting for that kid to catch a break.”

  “Razor’s only hurting because he cares. That’s not a bad thing.”

  “No, but I want something to be easy for the kid. Maybe he could have two months without his heart being torn out.”

  Pigpen watches Razor, and the guilt and the pain Pigpen keeps buried deep slips out into his expression. I can’t help
but wonder if, in all these years, Pigpen’s had two hours without having his heart ripped out. “Razor’s pain isn’t your fault.”

  Not at all interested in what I have to say, Pigpen leans forward, rest his arms on his thighs and rubs his hands together.

  “Do you ever think of telling Razor the truth about why you came to Snowflake? The reason you joined the Reign of Terror?”

  The glare he sends me would make lesser men piss their pants, but I don’t flinch.

  “Why would I do that?” he demands.

  Because I love Pigpen like a brother, and while I respect what brought him here, I had hoped that through the years, he’d find a way to forgive himself for a sin he never committed. “Razor can handle the truth.”

  “Maybe I can’t.”

  Razor draws back from Breanna, mumbles something to her then leaves her there as he jogs down the stairs. His path is straight to us, and when he stops in front of the picnic table, he appears as grim as the reaper himself.

  “How bad?” I ask.

  “Addison’s father is Satan, and she wants to run away.”

  That much I already knew. “Does she have a plan?”

  Razor shakes his head. “Not one that Breanna could get out of her. Breanna told her what you said, Eli, about the club wanting to help, but Addison’s scared. She’s not sure if she should listen to what we have to say, much less take our advice.”

  I don’t blame her distrust. Most people aren’t trained to look at bikers as people who want to help or people you should accept help from.

  “I have to get Breanna home soon,” Razor says. “Her parents asked for her to be back by one, and I’d like to show them respect. Plus, if she doesn’t go home and Addison’s parents contact Breanna’s parents, it won’t take long for Addison’s father to connect the dots.”

  That gives Addison an hour with someone she trusts. For a girl going through huge problems, that’s not a lot of time. “Is there somebody else we could bring by? Another friend? A family member?”