by Bourne, Lena
Rook signals us to stay low and move slowly, using the hand gestures that all the Devils know better than spoken language. We all hold our breath as he reaches past the curtain and pushes the door open further so we can enter.
I’m first through the door, although Rook and Scar both overtake me, Rook signaling that I need to let them go in first. I fall back. They’re much more practiced at this kind of thing than me, and I’d only mess up a sure thing by being too eager now.
“What the fuck?” Anne’s husband yells as he finally spots us. He sounds scared. I don’t blame him. He’s reclined on the sofa and from his vantage point, Rook and Scar must look like two black mountains ready to close in on him.
Scar reaches him first. He’s not wearing his bandana, so his scarred face is probably the only thing Benji sees right now. It looks even more nightmarish than usual, lit up as it is by the blue light from the TV.
“Where is she?” he asks menacingly.
Benji’s only wearing an unbuttoned work shirt and briefs, his thin legs reflecting the blue light of the TV. A nauseating sight.
“Where’s who?” he asks defiantly enough, although his voice is a little high pitched.
Scar pulls out his huge serrated edge knife from the holster on his belt, making sure Benji sees it before he closes the distance between them like it didn’t exist, and presses it against his cheek.
“Your wife,” Scar says. “Answer quick, before I make your face just as pretty as mine.”
“She’s not here,” Benji says, his voice even more high pitched now, but his eyes are defiant as they fix on me. “Last I saw her, she was cavorting with that bastard there. Why don’t you ask him?”
“Ain’t you a smart mouth?” Scar says menacingly as he glides the point of his knife along his cheek. Even from a few paces away, I can hear Benji gulp.
“She was with me, and that’s where she wanted to stay,” I say. “But I think you forced her to leave. Now tell me where she is or my friend will start chopping things off.”
Benji looks positively alarmed now, but his eyes flashed somewhere off to the kitchen before they settled defiantly on mine again. “Do you know who I am? I am FBI Special Agent Benjamin Fisher, and I will make your life hell if you don’t release me this instant.”
Scar chuckles. “Who says we’ll release you at all.”
“She’ll never be yours,” Benji snarls, his eyes once again flickering in the direction of the kitchen. “She’s mine and she’ll always be mine. And you’re way out of your depth threatening me. I already know all about you. You’re members of Devil’s Nightmare MC, and you’re not as benign as everyone in that backwoods little town you live in seems to think. You can expect a very loud knock from me and my colleagues on your door very soon. But if you leave now, I’ll make sure that knock doesn’t come.”
Scar and Rook exchange a very dark and meaningful look at hearing this. We all know what’s happening. He’s bargaining and up-selling what he can make happen, but even if what he’s saying is only partly true, this revelation is ominous enough. Yet, we didn’t come here to make a deal with him.
“Tell us where she is,” Rook says, taking the words right off my tongue. “We need to know she’s alright, and then we’ll talk.”
Benji snarls and it turns into a smile as Scar removes the knife a fraction of an inch, so it’s no longer touching his face, just pointing at it. He moves to get even further away from the knife and a small padlock key on a thin chain slips out from the open front of his shirt, shining blue in the light from the TV. I put two and two together in a split second.
He wasn’t looking at the kitchen before, he was looking at the white door in the hallway just to the side of it, which has a padlock on it. It seemed an odd thing to have on an inside door when I first noticed it, and now I know what it means.
“She wants to be here with me,” Benji says. “And this is the only chance you’ll have—”
He yelps as I yank the key from around his neck, the chain drawing blood before it breaks.
Rook looks confused as I bolt past him to get to the padlocked door. But Benji’s warning yells for me to stop what I’m doing tell me I’m right about this. The key fits, and Benji’s yells follow me down the dark, steep staircase into the basement.
A single tent lamp illuminates the open, unfinished space, casting shadows against the rough concrete walls and floor. The whole scene is something out of a nightmare, especially the smell—vomit and dried blood. It takes me a few moments to realize what I thought was a pile of rags in the corner is actually a person lying down on a thin mattress. That realization is immediately followed by an even more horrible one—that person is Anne! Her face is a mess of dried blood over bruises and her right forearm is twisted at an unnatural angle against the mattress. I’m not sure if she’s breathing, and for the first time in my career as a doctor, I don’t want to check and find out. But I fight through my fear paralysis, my own heart perfectly still, as I check her neck for a pulse.
I’ve never been this happy to feel someone’s heartbeat. She’s alive, her heart rate faint but steady.
I try to rouse her, but fail, and what I want to do is call an ambulance, and have them take care of her right here, but that’s not possible. She needs to get to the ER fast, or my relief at finding her alive might be short lived. My training takes over, and I sling her over my shoulder then run with her up the narrow stairs.
“What’s wrong with her? Is she alive?” Rook asks as I emerge into the living room
“Of course she’s alive,” Benji snarls. “Set her down this instant.”
“We need to get her to a hospital,” I tell Rook. “Now!”
“You need to set her down! Now!” Benji protests, but everyone’s ignoring him. Scar and Rook exchange another long, meaningful look.
“Let’s go,” Rook finally says. “We’ll bring him with us. Cross will want to know what he has to say.”
“No, I’m staying right—” but the rest of Benji’s sentence cuts off, as Scar lands a perfectly applied punch to his temple, muttering, “Shut the fuck up” under his breath.
Then I’m running out the back door and across the yard, carrying Anne in my arms. Scar is just behind me, with her husband slung over his shoulder.
Rook makes us wait in the shadows by the garage door, while he signals Ice to bring the car around.
And what feels like an eternity later, we’re finally in the parking lot of a well-lit hospital. Rook is telling me someone will be in touch to pick me up later, but I hardly hear it.
Anne’s breathing is very shallow and her heartbeat is very faint. I might have come for her too late. The doctor in me knows and understands this, but the man I am—the man that loves this woman—never will. She has to live, I won’t accept any other outcome. But I know she might not.
25
Anne
Waking up is hard. I feel like I’m floating inside a cloud, massive pain just beyond its fluffy edges, threatening to overcome me if I acknowledge it even a little bit. It’s light in this room, much lighter than it was in the basement of Benji’s house. He threw me down the steep stairs leading into it after I fought and refused to go willingly, even though I could barely hold on to consciousness. Here I see a window, and grey clouds amassed over the sea in the distance. It’s also very warm, so warm I wouldn’t mind if that window was open.
I can hear a faint beeping off to my side, and something cold on my hand, but my arm is constricted and throbbing slightly, and my head feels heavier than it should.
But I know where I am. I’m at a hospital and awake. This part of my plan succeeded. Now I just have to get up and escape.
Yet when I try to move, I can’t. My heart starts racing, the cloud I’m floating in pulsing in panic. Did he break my back?
The beeping grows louder and faster. I can see the room clearly now. See the white walls, the IV attached to my one arm, the cast on the other one, see the blanket covering me, see my legs that won�
��t move under it.
The door opens, and all I see is a blurry outline of someone running towards my bed. The blur materializes into Matt’s face, and for a split second I’m sure this is all just a dream. But you don’t feel pain or panic like this inside a dream, or this level of happiness either.
He looks worried, his summer sky eyes sharp and thoughtful as he looks at me, but I couldn’t be happier. Even if I never walk again, I’ll be happy as long as I’m with him. As long as he’s near me.
I cup his cheek with my hand, the stubble pricking my palm, and look deep into his very worried eyes.
“I’m sorry for leaving you,” I whisper.
“I know,” he says. “How do you feel? Are you alright?”
“I can’t move my legs,” I say with more firmness than I feel. “But otherwise, I think I’ll live.”
“You will,” he says and finally smiles, his whole face lighting up, chasing away the worry like the rising sun chases away the night’s darkness.
He kisses my forehead. “And you’ll walk again, don’t worry. They feared he’d broken your spine, but it was just a very hard blow. They immobilized it, so it’ll heal faster. Did he throw you down those stairs?”
I flinch at the raw anger in his voice, and the vivid memory of getting hurled down the stairs, the blackness that followed as I landed on the concrete floor.
“I’m sorry,” he says, stroking my cheek and running his thumb across my lips. “Don’t think about that. You’re safe now. He’ll never hurt you again, and he’ll pay for ever doing it. I wish I’d come after you sooner. I shouldn’t have believed that note for a second.”
“You’re here now,” I whisper, leaning my face into his palm. Even the threatening pain at the edge of my awareness isn’t as menacing now that he’s near me, touching me, keeping me safe.
“And I’ll never leave you again,” he says, sitting down on the edge of my bed and taking my hand. “Not unless you tell me to go.”
“I won’t. Never again,” I say. “I should’ve tried to escape Benji when he showed up at the cabin, but he said he’d kill me right there and make sure you got the blame for it. How did you know I didn’t want to write that note? How did you know where to look for me?”
He slides his hand down my cheek again, then takes hold of my hand in both of his. “You wrote that we didn’t know each other long. But that’s just not true. I was over at your house when your parents brought you home from the hospital. Billy was so excited about getting a sister, but I thought the whole thing was way overrated.” He smiles, his eyes softening like he’s seeing all the way back to that day. “If you’d written that note yourself, I doubt you’d say we didn’t know each other for long, despite the fact that our stay together at the cabin was so brief. And I doubt, you’d leave me without saying a proper goodbye in person. That’s not the kind of woman you are.”
“I’m so glad you figured all that out,” I say and smile too. “I wanted to leave you a clue, but I was too afraid he’d see right through it.”
“I shouldn’t have left you alone up there,” he says, his eyes hard and angry again. “This is all my fault.”
“If we’re laying blame…” I say, pausing in surprise at just how much I actually believe what I’m about to say, but I wholeheartedly do. “This is all Benji’s fault. Where is he?”
He gives me an appraising look, and I clearly see the doctor in him now. He’s figuring out, if I’m well enough to hear this. I squeeze his hand and nod to let him know I don’t need to be coddled. I was an ER nurse for almost ten years after all. “Just tell me, Doc.”
“Honestly, I don’t know where he is,” he says. “But he’s not in any position to come after you or hurt you ever again.”
“How do you know?” I ask and my heart rate monitor starts beeping shrilly again.
“Trust me, I know,” he says calmly, complacently.
“He could still do a lot of damage,” I persist. “He knows you’re a biker, and he’s made a career of putting biker gangs away.”
He smiles. “Don’t worry so much about me, Anne. Benji is being taken care of. But now you have to rest. I’ll try to get you out of here first thing tomorrow morning.”
“We can go now,” I say and try to sit up again, but my legs still won’t do what I want them to.
“You’ve been out cold for three days, Anne, don’t push it now,” he says. “Lay back down. I’ll be right here with you the whole time. And tomorrow I’m taking home with me.”
“The cabin, or your real home?” I ask.
He chuckles and slides an errant lock of my hair back behind my ear. “My real home.”
“And will that be my home too now?” I ask.
“As in you and me together? Forever?” he asks, looking shocked for a second, but rallying with a big ol’ smile.
“Yes, that’s what I meant,” I say, and I know shock is all there is on my face right now. Even the machine is beeping loud again. “Why are you just smiling?”
He leans down and kisses me, softly and gently like he’s afraid to hurt me. But I’m still confused as he pauses the kiss to look at me.
“Our forever started a while back, Anne,” he says and smiles again. “This was just a little interruption.”
I pull his face to me for another kiss, wilder and fiercer this time, but still sweet and tender. Before long, it fills me to the brim with love, and makes even the shadow of pain disappear completely.
Yes, our forever started long before this. I think it started the moment he found me in my crashed car. Or maybe even earlier than that. Back when I first realized I liked boys, and that I liked Matt Beaulieu most of all.
* * *
As soon as we reached the woods in California, visions of lying down in the soft bed next to him flooded my mind. I know we’re not going to the cabin, but that’s where I picture this ride ending nonetheless—with just the two of us, alone in the woods, listening to the birds singing and the wind rustling the tree branches outside, the perfect lullaby to the sleep and rest I know I need, after this long car ride.
He slows down once we near the corner of a tall stone wall by the side of the road. It must be encircling some movie star mansion and its huge garden. But he doesn’t drive past the gate in the wall once we reach it. Instead it starts opening for us, and he pulls right in.
Then we’re riding down a long driveway, bordered by a garden so large, lush and green that a forest would be a better name for it. A sprawling house is growing ever larger at the end of the driveway, and if I didn’t know I was wide awake, I’d swear I was dreaming. I don’t think I’ve actually ever seen a house this fancy up close.
“What is this place?” I ask as we stop just to the side of the main door to the house. “Some kind of private hospital or something? Is this where you work?”
He smiles. “Good guess. It used to be a hospital of sorts, a long time ago. But now it’s the HQ of my motorcycle club, and my home. Yours too now.”
He comes around the car and opens my door, holding out his hand for me to take, adding, “If you want it to be”.
My head is floating in those imaginary clouds again, but there’s no threat of pain at the edge of them anymore, none at all.
“I like it very much,” I say, taking his hand and letting him help me step out of the car. “But I love our cabin too.”
His eyes are very soft, and so full of love and devotion I could just stare at them all day and never want for anything more. “We can go back there anytime you want.”
“Good,” I say, and let him lead me into the house. “But right now, I could use a bed. I bet the ones in there are very comfortable.”
He chuckles again, pushing open the door as we reach it. “They are, I’ll show you.”
My eyes take a second to adjust to the dim light inside, but then the sprawling wooden stairs in the middle of the large foyer come into view, along with the rugs and chandeliers, and I know I’ll like it here very much.
“
Doc,” a man says from a doorway at the far end of the foyer. “Get her settled, then I need to speak to you.”
“Alright, I’ll be right there, Cross,” Matt says and leads me up the stairs, the light and fuzzy air between us replaced by taut tension.
“He wants to talk about Benji, doesn’t he?” I ask as we reach the landing.
“Most likely,” he says and leaves it at that.
I’m imagining Benji dead, and I don’t know how I feel about that. But I don’t have the time to think or talk about it either. Roxie is striding towards us down the wide, wood-paneled hallway upstairs, smiling wide and greeting me loudly.
She wraps her arm around my shoulders once she reaches me.
“You go see what my husband wants, and I’ll take care of Anne,” she says to Matt, then starts leading me down the hall, saying how happy she is that I’m safe.
I get the distinct feeling she had a lot to do with how swiftly I was found and rescued.
I tell her so, and thank her, but she just waves her hand dismissively.
“I wouldn’t be here, if it weren’t for you,” she says. “Besides, Doc would’ve gone after you one way or another, even if my husband and the guys didn’t help. He truly loves you.”
I protest, telling her I’m in her debt now, but she’ll have none of it.
She just smiles as she pulls the covers of a very comfy bed over me.
I now know how I feel about Benji dying. I would’ve died in that basement had they not found me so fast. And I could still die, if he ever finds me again. It’s either him or me. And he’s a monster.
* * *
Doc
The damn staircase seems twice as high as usual, as I descend it on my way to Cross’ office. He allowed me to bring Anne here so she can heal completely under my supervision, but is he gonna let her stay? I promised her this will be our home now, and that wasn’t a given at the time, but the gist of it was true—wherever we live from now on, we’ll live there together. I don’t want to leave my brothers, but I will if it’s so I can be with Anne. That’s a harsh truth, but it’s my only truth. I’ll tell Cross as much. But will he understand?