by Bourne, Lena
“I’ll get us out of here,” I assure her, walking closer to her. I want to hold her, and I want to kiss her, but I’m certain she won’t allow either of those things right now.
“Sure you will,” she mutters, her voice so cold and toneless it sends a chill up my spine. Her voice sounds like she’s already talking from beyond the grave.
“Yeah, I will,” I assure her and chuckle, more to make myself feel better than because any of this is funny. I have no idea how I’ll get us out of this. But I’ll know it when I see it. All I need is an opportunity, and if what I’ve seen of the way the Sinners do business, I’m sure I’ll get one soon.
I also know my brothers are near. They always have my back. Why should tonight be any different?
Somehow, relief is the strongest thing I feel now that Stormi is here with me. Most of my worry and bleak mood before was over not knowing where she was, and not knowing how I’ll keep her out of harm’s way when my brothers attack. Now that she’s here, right by my side, I can breathe easier.
“Six months ago, I was right here, sitting right by this wall and waiting to die,” she says. The death in her tone cuts right through my chest. “I talked them into giving me a second chance then. It wasn’t much of one, but at least I was alive. Now I’m gonna die. I lived like a slave for six months, and now I’m gonna die anyway. I’m never gonna see my sister again, and I’m never gonna know what love is, because you’re gonna die right beside me. You’re probably gonna die first, and I’m gonna have to watch it, and then I’ll die with that as my last memory.”
Her voice is cold and dead like stone in winter but she’s rocking back and forth, her eyes fixed on a point behind my left shoulder. It’s like I’m not even here. It’s like she’s given up.
I take the three steps separating us and crouch down in front of her, cupping her chin in my palm and trying to make her look at me. She won’t.
“That’s not gonna happen, Stormi. Not while I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” I tell her firmly. “Trust me, we’re gonna get out of this cell and we’re gonna live, and I’m never gonna let you go again. I’m never gonna let anything bad happen to you ever again, starting tonight.”
My voice is rising and I almost yell the last words. It’s because I’m trying to get through the thick, dead fog in her eyes. I’m failing.
“We’re both gonna be fine,” I tell her in a softer voice, and this time, even to my own ears, I sound like I’m just talking bullshit.
But the Devils will be here in time to not make me a liar in this. Blaze and Colt are gonna realize I’m not back and they’re gonna know something went wrong. Right?
And if not, I’ll use my knife to get a gun off one of the men who come to take us wherever they’re planning on taking us and shoot my way free.
“Why didn’t you just leave with me when I asked you to?” she asks in a cracked voice. At least her eyes aren’t all fixed and dead as she looks at me. They’re watery and so sad I almost look away.
“I..I..—”
“Never mind, it doesn’t matter now,” she says in a dead voice and buries her face behind her knees.
Her long hair is a curtain around her and between us.
I don’t know how to part it, I just know I want to. So I do, fully expecting her to swat my hand away as I brush her hair apart. She doesn’t, but neither does she look at me.
I smile first, then laugh softly. “Come on, we might as well make the most of this time we have left, right?”
Wrong!
That’s what her eyes are telling me as she snaps her head up and glares at me.
“Men,” she huffs and moves further away from me. “I thought you were different. But you’re all just the same. Sex and violence. That’s all you’re good for. All you think about.”
At least she’s angry now. That’s better than being sad. Best would be if she let me kiss her, but I’m not gonna force that on her now, although I’m sure it’d make both of us feel better.
“This will all work out for the best, you’ll see,” I can’t help telling her as I sit down beside her by the wall.
She gives me a scathing look but doesn’t say anything before burying her face behind her knees again.
I’ve had years of coming to terms with my own mortality. Each and every job I’ve been on with the Devils carried the risk of dying, and I’ve gotten real good at living to the fullest in the time I had between those. It’s different for Stormi, I guess, this is only the second time she’s facing death, and it’s more like an extension of the first time for her. I wish she’d let me take the edge of that fear away from her. I wish I was better at women and love. But the only thing I’m better at is killing and tonight that’s gonna matter more. I guess. Because it’s not actually gonna matter more than holding her in my arms. It’s never gonna matter more than that. Nothing ever will.
* * *
Stormi
In my mind, the moment they shoved me in here overlaid my memories of the last time I was locked up in here and now I feel like I’m two different people, like I’m coexisting in two bodies at the same time. I wish I could take comfort from Ace’s words, I wish it were that easy to just let go and trust everything will be alright. But it’s not.
This is all my fault.
He’s here because of me and he’ll die because of me.
I’m sure of it, and that guilt is making my body and mind as rigid as my own fear of dying. I’m two different people. The one that loves Ace and the one that wants to survive. It’s not pulling me in two different directions, because the end of the road is the same for both. They’re both just freezing me in time.
He keeps glancing at me, but I ignore him. He’s sitting so close I can feel the strength of his muscles and his heat all along my side. He’s so alive. So very strong and alive. But it won’t last much longer.
His face is so open, so unafraid, the kindness in his eyes washing over sharp, gleaming, hard certainty in his own survival. In our survival. I want to just let him pull me into that state too. To the place where we’re just falling in love and that’s the only thing that matters.
He’s hunted. He’s been hunted for years. I bet he’s just gotten so used to the idea that he’ll die this danger doesn’t even faze him. That’s why he’s able to pretend this is no big deal. He’s been ready for this for so long. He’s seen everyone he loved and cared for die. Of course he’s ready to die. I want to comfort him. But what do I say?
I’m glad we’re dying together?
Here, let me hold your hand so you don’t die alone?
Useless, pointless words.
I thought I escaped this six months ago, and now I’m right back where I started and with even less hope than I had then.
“So, tell me more about your sister,” he says quietly in an uncertain voice, looking at me very intently. “Is she younger, older?”
I wrap my arms around my legs tighter and refuse to look at him. Right now, I was supposed to be well on my way to seeing my sister, to being by her side as she finally gets the treatment that will prolong her life. Now she’ll never see me again, never hear from me again, she’ll spend the rest of her life wondering what happened to me. I avoided her for six months. She’ll think that was just the prelude to me disappearing forever. She’ll blame herself. What have I done?
“Come on, Stormi,” he says. “Don’t just give up.”
I release my legs and glare at him. “Don’t give up? Why the hell not? Huh, Ace? Why the hell not? We’re about to die.”
“It’s not as bad as all that,” he tells me softly and reaches for me, but I swat his hand away and leap to my feet, glaring down at him.
“It’s not, is it? Of course, it fucking is!” I shout.
He stands up too, his face dead serious. His eyes are hard like a freshly sharpened knife blade. Kindness still swirls in them, but now it’s like fragile, quickly dissolving white clouds on a summer’s day. “Just trust me. I’ll get us out of this.”
That’s what that hard, sharp look in his eyes means.
“How about you just take my word for it,” he suggests. “Just trust me. Would feeling better be so bad?”
Is he mocking me? What the fuck kind of question is that?
He reaches over to embrace me and I’m just about to skip away from his touch, when the door opens.
Horse is glaring at me, a nasty half-smile on his face.
“Trouble in paradise?” he asks sarcastically.
Ace has eyes only for me, acting as though Horse isn’t even there, let alone that he spoke. “Come on, Stormi. Let me make it better for you.”
I nod, let him draw me into a hug and bury my face in his chest. Now that the end is here, in the form of Horse and his greasy hair and mocking thin-lipped smile, Ace’s words make perfect sense. They align perfectly with my own heart’s desire. Dying in the arms of the one you love—is there a better way to go? No. If it’s in his arms, I can face death.
“Let’s go!” Horse says and pulls me out of Ace’s arms roughly.
Ace slams his shoulder into Horse to get him away from me, but that’s all the fight they let him get away with.
“No!” My desperate scream fills the small room and echoes off down the hallway. They’ll kill him right here if he fights them, like they killed Josh, and Horse is pulling me away from Ace. I’ll never reach him in time to let him die in my arms if they shoot him now. No!
Two guys grab Ace’s arms from behind, preventing him from fighting any more. I see the effort it’s costing him not to fight them in his face and his eyes, in the set, tight angle of his jaw. He could fight them. I bet he could take all three of them and win. He’s so strong. My man. I see the steel-hard determination in his eyes. The same determination that gives me that tiny, wispy sliver of hope that we’ll survive this. That the day he dies in my loving arms is decades away from tonight.
They half drag half prod us out of the building and toward an unmarked white van. Through the little window that looks from the back of the van to the front, I can see Piston behind the wheel. They tie Ace’s hands behind his back with a zip-tie, load us in the van and slam the door behind us.
“You three follow us,” Horse orders the other guys and then gets in the front seat.
He leans back and smiles nastily through the grimy plastic window to the back. “Hope you lovebirds had a good time back there, because it’s almost time for lights out.”
Ace rolls his eyes at the dumb one-liner, and I find myself smiling at him. Then he scoots over to me. Sadly, he can’t put his arms around me because they’re tied, but they form a perfect V of strength, power and muscle behind his back. They left my arms untied and I wrap them around him, mold my body to his as much as I can and let him wrap me in his strength and his calmness and the love that’s all the sweeter, because it’ll be so short.
“It’s not over until it’s over,” he whispers, but even he doesn’t sound quite as sure about that as he was before.
“You’re right,” I say anyway.
This is all we have. This ride will be the rest of our entire love story. I will make the most of it. I’m determined to know only love until the end of my life.
21
Ace
I thought they’d keep us locked up longer, at least until the early hours of the morning. But they mean business, they mean to kill us both and do it fast. Both Tank and Cross are still hours out. Ice’s team won’t attack until they get here, I’m sure of that.
It’ll be five against one when we get to wherever they’re taking us and they tied me up with a fucking zip-tie. They’ll just shoot us soon after we get where we’re going. Probably some desert wasteland. There’s a bunch of places like that around here. Those aren’t good odds.
But for now, I’ll just enjoy Stormi’s softness and her flowery smell in my nose. I’ll stay strong and calm for her. It’s the least I can do.
The sound of the bikes following us is loud and invasive and I hate how that familiar, welcome sound, which reminds me of my brothers riding at my back, and lately of Stormi and me looking for freedom, now heralds death and sadness and suffering. But I don’t have to focus on that. I can just remember the times when that sound meant my brothers were riding beside me down a quiet, dark and empty road, the world ours for the taking.
A sound like a car backfiring draws me from those pleasant memories. A second later it’s followed by another, and then a third.
“What was that?” Piston asks in a frightened voice, checking all the mirrors frantically.
“Probably just a muffler. Get it together,” Horse chides him.
“Are the guys still behind us?” Piston asks. “I lost them for a second back there.”
“They’re there, you can see them. Stop panicking like a little bitch,” Horse says in a voice that suggests Piston is very dumb. “You couldn’t see them for awhile because of a curve in the road. You know how those work, right?”
Piston makes no reply and stares straight ahead.
“And how about you step on it,” Horse suggests. “Man, I knew I should’ve been the one to drive.”
Piston speeds up and the sound of bikes accelerating behind us grows louder.
“I wish he’d slow down instead,” Stormi says, as she looks up at me with a serene smile on her lips.
“Yeah, me too,” I answer.
“Kiss me,” she orders and I obey.
Her lips are the best thing I’ve ever tasted, or felt in general. It’s things being put right, it’s the end of grief and sadness, it’s perfect completeness like I never even imagined could exist. It’s getting my family back.
I never want this kiss to end.
But we don’t have all the time in the world, not yet.
I pull away from the kiss, but only about half an inch. She comes after me, looking for my lips, but I don’t let her find them.
“There’s a knife in my left boot,” I whisper. “Get it, then cut me loose.”
Her eyes widen, her lips part and her breaths are deep and audible. I nod to her to do like I told her, and a moment later her long, thin fingers are sliding down the inside of my boot. Another moment later she has my thin, sharp, backup knife out. It’s a good knife for killing, but maybe not so great for cutting plastic. We’re about to find out.
“Pretend to kiss me while you cut the ties,” I whisper to her and she nods, then kisses me for real.
I wince as the blade slides too close to my skin, opening it stingingly.
“Did I get you?” she asks in a worried, breathless voice.
“It’s fine, keep going.”
She works the knife up and down the plastic cutting me deeper in the process. It’s a crap knife for cutting plastic, but little by little I feel my bonds loosening. Almost there. Just a little more.
But that’s the state it remains in as Piston slows down and makes a sharp turn off the asphalt and onto uneven terrain. We’re getting jostled like two potato sacks in the back of the van as Piston steps on the gas again.
“Stop cutting for now,” I whisper to her, but she’s already done it on her own.
I kiss her again, deeply and hungrily, feeding off her taste, her soft moans, her little shivers. This kiss might have to last me an eternity in Hell, so I’m gonna make it count. Over the years, I’ve completely lost my fear of dying. I didn’t even notice that until the fear came back tonight, with the burning vengeance of a thing buried alive for so long. I don’t want to lose her. I don’t want to live without her. I want to live with her.
Fate is not on our side.
We stop abruptly, the braking force tearing me away from the kiss and slamming me against the side of the van. I can hear the knife clink out of Stormi’s hand.
Fucking shit! I push my wrists apart as hard as I can, all the muscles in my arms strained to the m
ax and shaking, as I try to break the zip-tie binding my wrists, the effort causing warm sticky blood to flow down my hands.
It’s too little. I’m not strong enough.
“Well, well, am I interrupting something?” Horse asks mockingly as he opens the door.
“Stay close behind me once we’re outside,” I whisper into Stormi’s ear while Horse and Piston laugh.
They’re both holding pistols and pointing them at us. Only the van’s rear lights are illuminating the perfect darkness around us. We’re still alone here, the guys riding behind us haven’t caught up yet.
I crawl toward the open door on my knees, and land on them too as Piston yanks me out the rest of the way. I see nothing but bright, white sparks as the sharp pain of my knees colliding with the dusty, hard ground spears me. I refuse to feel the nausea and pain as I leap back up to my feet.
Both Horse and Piston are laughing, but Stormi is staring at me with such watery anguish in her eyes, it breaks my heart. I gotta be strong for her. And I know I can be. Through the worst kind of pain, I can be strong for her.
“We have some time,” Horse announces happily. “I think I’ll have her one last time. You watch him, Piston, and then you can have a turn too.”
Piston looks uncertain, but grins as Horse grabs Stormi’s tank top and pulls her to himself, keeping his gun pointed at her face. She shrieks as the tank top rips open, but he grabs her by the throat cutting off her scream.
“Yes, fight and cry. I’ll enjoy that.” He pushes her back towards the van with the hand that’s around her throat. She lands on her back in the bed of the van with a thud. I’m watching it all in slow motion, sparks of pain-induced light still marring my vision. I know several things right now. and they’re not blending well in my head. I know I will not let either of them hurt her, I know Horse will die for what he just did, and I know I better not make any sudden moves or Piston will just shoot me, and then I won’t be able to help Stormi at all. Piston’s hand is shaking slightly as he points his gun at me, but his attention isn’t fully on me, he’s still grinning as Horse gets ready to rape Stormi. Rape. Stormi.
