He got to ride to the end of the line with Bonnie.
Thinking about my own little Bonnie, I pull off the highway. Feeling reckless, desperate and let’s face it, a little sorry for myself, I do the first thing that comes to mind. Eyeing the all-night liquor store, I pull my bike up front and kill my engine before dismounting.
Reaching behind me, I pull out my gun and stare at the neon sign. A memory assaults me, blurring my mind and my vision.
“Does that mean you're my Clyde?”
“Depends, do you want to go rob a bank?”
Her smile flashes before me and I can almost feel her arms around my waist as I stride toward the store. Pulling open the door, my mind plays me and I hear her mischievous voice loud and oh so fucking clear.
“Is it bad that I’m not totally turned off by the idea?”
The bell chimes as my boots glide over the threshold and my gaze zeroes in on the clerk behind the counter. The poor unsuspecting bastard welcomes me with a smile.
“Maybe we should start small and knock off a liquor store.”
“I’m down. I’ll distract the clerk with my fake southern accent and you get the goods. Now, come on, Clyde, take me on a ride I’ll never forget.”
Wishing she was at my side, I raise the gun and pull back the safety.
“Open the fucking register,” I growl, as I cock the gun and aim it directly between his eyes. “Now,” I shout as I grab a bottle of the most expensive whiskey.
Fuck it.
The clerk flounders around, doing his best to collect the cash from the register.
“Please don’t kill me,” he cries and I laugh.
Because I’m a bastard through and through.
Because I’ve lost my fucking mind.
Because I want to pay homage to a great love story.
And I’m not talking about Bonnie and Clyde’s story. I’m talking about Alexandria Richardson and Caleb West.
“This is all I’ve got. It’s been a slow night,” he adds, lifting his palms full of cash.
Lowering my gun, I stare into his fearful eyes and shake my head. I don’t want his fucking money. I don’t even want the bottle of whiskey I’m clutching, but fuck that, this shit is over a hundred bucks a pop.
“Keep your money,” I growl, tucking my gun into the front waistband of my pants. Staring at me in utter shock, he seems to breathe for the first time since I stepped foot into this joint. “I’m taking the booze,” I warn, twisting the cap off the neck of the bottle. “Some men want a steak for their last meal, others want the burn of poison,” I tell him as I knock back a long sip.
“To each his own,” he stutters.
Dragging the bottle away from my lips, I swipe my forearm across my mouth, drying off any excess liquor.
“You have a good night, now,” I tell him before saluting him and walking out the door. I shove the whiskey into my saddlebag and throw my leg over my bike. The alcohol calms me, it warms me and it makes me dream of fire.
Twenty minutes later, I torture myself some more and park in front of Pops shooting range. Fighting back more memories of Ally, I sit on my bike and spray the windows with bullets. When the clip runs dry, I lower my gun and let my boots crunch over the gravel of the parking lot.
The devil is alive, coursing through my veins as I kick open the door and instantly the security alarm blares. Raiding the joint, I sling an AK-47 over my shoulder and shove guns wherever I can.
As I peel away from the shooting range, I prepare myself for war. Like any good soldier, I’m ready to lay it all on the line. I bite back my fear, forget my sorrow and stand with my boots planted firmly on the front line.
My life flashes before my eyes.
The good.
The bad.
The right.
The wrong.
Hanging on by a thread, I make my way back home, to the motel where the memory of Ally burns bright. Armed with a bottle of whiskey and enough ammo to blow motherfuckers from here to kingdom come, I step inside my room and am instantly assaulted by her scent.
Fucking coconuts.
Her.
Me.
It all comes rushing back to me.
I dump the guns on the bed I loved her on and pull up a chair.
With my memories and the bottle of whiskey I wait for death.
Come at me motherfuckers.
Take me to hell.
Watch me burn.
-Forty-three-
ALLY
It wasn’t long after Deuce walked out the door that Jack came in and poured himself a drink. Through my tears I met his intense gaze, and like he did after he rescued me, he promised everything would be fine. I wanted to scream and tell him nothing would be fine but something told me my efforts would be lost.
I had put my trust in him and thought he would fix this. I believed coming here would be mine and Deuce’s salvation. I trusted Jack to deliver a solution but all I got was a kiss goodbye and broken heart. Now I sit here watching as a man of power slowly loses his godforsaken mind.
Literally Jack loses his mind.
Pulling pictures from the walls, he gently lays them on the couch, revealing holes hidden beneath every frame. After he removes every strategically placed frame, he steps back and crosses his arms as he stares at the wall.
I’d be fascinated by the mysterious creature that is Jack Parrish if my world wasn’t collapsing, if the fucking ground wasn’t being pulled out from under me. If this crazy man hadn’t promised me everything would be okay.
“Jack,” I shout, trying to get his attention.
Ignoring me, he begins to hum a melody I can’t place. It makes me painfully aware he’s gone. The big bad biker is off in la-la land and I’m here left holding the pieces of my broken heart. Anger begins to engulf me, threatening to swallow me whole and when I can’t stand to watch Jack anymore, I jump to my feet.
Twelve years.
I lost twelve years being a prisoner. Twelve years of my life I will never get back. I didn’t get to do the things I wanted to do. I never got to feel or make my own decisions until I met Deuce.
He made me choose.
He made me feel.
He may not have been able to give me back the years I lost, but he gave me the things I missed out on. Aside from giving me his heart, he gave me the greatest gift of all.
He introduced me to myself.
Now when I look in the mirror I know the fundamentals of who I am. I know I am strong and I am determined.
My strength and my determination are my weapons.
I glance back at Jack, noticing his eyes are closed as his body sways side to side to the beat of the tune he’s humming. Then everything goes still as the distinct sound of a pack of motorcycles sound.
Jack’s mind.
My mind.
My heart is the only thing moving.
It beats wildly inside of me as dread coils throughout my being and I slip out of the living room unnoticed. In the kitchen, I frantically look around as the doorbell sounds. Pausing at the doorway, I watch Jack pull open the door and invite mayhem into his home.
Blackie, Riggs, Stryker, Bas, Needles and my brother all file through the front door and none of them look happy. Every possible scenario flashes through my mind and I wonder if I misplaced my trust in Jack. What if he rallied up his men to hurt Deuce?
Sliding behind the door, I draw in a deep breath and glance around the kitchen. My eyes drift to the keys on the counter and then dart to the back door. I hear Jack’s voice but only make out the words that seal my decision.
Death before dishonor.
I push off the wall, grab the keys and I do what I should’ve done when I was fourteen.
I run.
I run as fast as I can, around the house to the car parked at the curb. Glancing up at the house, my hands tremble as I pull the driver’s door open and slide in. Holding the keys in one hand, I grip the steering wheel and freeze.
Fuck.
I’ve never dri
ven a car before.
I don’t even know how to start it.
“Shit!”
My eyes dart all around the dashboard, the side of the wheel and then back at the house. While Jack may be incapacitated the others aren’t. They’re going to realize I’ve escaped.
“Focus,” I demand, drawing my attention back to the steering wheel. I close my eyes and try to remember watching Deuce behind the wheel. A smile spreads across my face as I fumble with the key, recalling where it belongs and I fit the key into the ignition on the side of the steering wheel.
Then I twist it and it purrs to life.
“Yes!” I screech, glancing at the shifter next to me.
I can do this.
I can do this.
My fist closes over the shifter and my thumb presses down on the side of it as I go through the options. Figuring D is for drive, I shift the car in gear and slam my foot down on the pedal.
Nothing happens.
Then I slam my foot on the other pedal.
“Oh shit!” I shriek as the car speeds away from the curb. Adrenaline pulses through me as I grip the steering wheel and then as I swerve in and out of lanes, tears streaming down my face.
I’m driving.
Holy shit, I’m driving.
I glance to my right, foolishly expecting to see Deuce at my side and I nearly take out a traffic signal.
“Fuck,” I shout, jerking the steering wheel and my attention back to the road. Fearlessly, I drive, praying there is enough gas in the car to get me where I need to go, not knowing where to check to make sure.
The longer I drive, the more I get the hang of it and the heavier my foot becomes. I have no idea what the speed limit is but I’m sure I’m blowing it. I also don’t give a flying fuck. Nothing is going to stand in my way.
I prove that point by side-swiping a car as I stare up at the blinking neon sign of the motel. Spotting the truck, I sharply turn into the parking lot. The tires screech announcing my arrival and I slam down on the break, haphazardly parking the car in the middle of the parking lot. Leaving the engine running, I open the door and hurry out of the car.
My feet pound the pavement until I’m standing in front of our door. Then I freeze as a sense of peace washes over me.
Home.
I’m finally home.
“Deuce, open the door,” I demand as I relentlessly pound on the door. “Open the fucking door or I’ll shoot the lock off.” My voice trails off as I bite down on my lip, realizing I don’t have a gun.
The door swings open and that familiar fluttering sensation in my stomach takes flight. He doesn’t look at me immediately but he doesn’t have to.
I feel him.
I feel us.
Once you feel fire it doesn’t die.
Pushing my way past him, I enter the motel room. He kicks the door closed and lowers his gun as he turns around to stare at me.
Silence settles between us as the match strikes.
It’s one of many for me but it’s his last.
His jaw ticks with aggravation as I place my hands on my hips.
“Thought I told you we were done,” he grinds out.
“Yeah, you said a lot of things, Deuce,” I sneer.
You told me you loved me and then you left me, asshole.
“I thought I’d remind you of some of them,” I say instead, pursing my lips as I close the distance between us. “One of the first things you ever told me was that I should stop waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel. You remember that, don’t you? You remember telling me I should strike the fucking match myself, don’t you?”
“Ally—”
“Shut up, it’s my turn to talk,” I snap, poking my finger into his chest. “You told me to live for me, taught me to find what I want in life and encouraged me to follow my heart. I listened and it led me straight here, back to you.”
“You need to leave.”
“I’m not.”
“Ally, any minute this place is going to become a war zone. They know where I am, they’re coming for me and they won’t leave without a body,” he shouts, grabbing both of my wrists as he levels me with a look. “That body ain’t going to be yours. Now, for fuck’s sake listen to me, you need to get the fuck out of here.”
“No,” I defy, pulling free of his grasp.
He’s not getting it.
I’m not leaving without him.
Whether he fails or flies, I’m riding with him side by side.
Because we got that ride or die love.
The kind of love the whole world wants.
The kind not everyone gets.
“I am not going anywhere, Deuce. I won’t leave your side,” I murmur, pausing as the tears slide down my cheeks. “I won’t do it.”
This man, this fiercely loyal man is a dream my heart made when I was just a girl. At the time, he didn’t have a face, but my heart knew the minute our eyes locked he was the man I wished for somewhere between adolescence and womanhood.
“I had a dream,” I whisper, wiping my cheeks with the backs of my hands. “I dreamt the whole world was burning in flames,” I tell him as I turn toward the bed and lift the 8-millimeter off of it. It fits perfectly in my hand and as I pull back the safety, I turn to him. “The flames died, the ash settled. All that was left was you and me standing side by side.”
Before I knew what ride or die was.
In the darkness of my torture.
He was the prayer.
My wish come true.
Caleb West isn’t just a man, he’s the missing piece of Alexandria Richardson.
Silently, he peels back the Velcro of his bulletproof vest and shrugs it off. Holding his gun with one hand, he charges for me and threads his fingers through my hair.
I close my eyes and lean into his touch.
“I’m sorry,” he rasps. “So fucking sorry.”
I blink and part my lips to tell him there is nothing to apologize for but the words spill into his mouth as his mouth crashes over mine.
Another dream comes true.
His tongue glides over mine and I get my first taste of whiskey as I part my lips and welcome him home.
Then I feel it.
Scorching hot flames sear through me.
Fire.
Beautiful fire.
We burn and burn but before we turn to ash the pipes sound.
Abruptly, we pull apart.
It’s time to ride.
“However, this ends, whether I’m dead or alive, I want you to know, I found my fire, Ally. I found beautiful fire in you. Now, put the vest on and take cover behind the bed. Do as I taught you. Don’t think, just shoot. Fight to win. Fight to live. Fight for tomorrow.”
The engines grow louder as I vow to fight with every bit of strength I have.
Once the girl who never believed in tomorrows, I am now the one who dreams of them.
Sliding the vest onto my body, Deuce secures it to my chest and presses another quick kiss to my lips.
It’s a prelude to tomorrow.
Something to fight for.
He tosses me another gun and juts his chin toward the other end of the bed. Following his lead, I drop to my knees on the side of the bed and aim for the window.
“Let’s ride,” he mutters, grabbing the big ass gun from the bed.
Then before I can blink, the engines die.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Bullets fly through the window and I don’t think.
I don’t pause.
I pull the trigger.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
It’s different than the shooting range. It’s deafening and the gunpowder fills the room making it impossible to see.
“I can’t see,” I cry, firing away aimlessly. I could be shooting Deuce and I wouldn’t even know it, that’s how dense the fog is, but I won’t quit.
I’ll ride until the end.
Until it’s just me and him.
Standing side by side.
“Fuck!” Deuce
screams as something flies through the window.
Then the fire we’ve created takes a back seat to the flames crawling up the curtains. Fear penetrates throughout my body as the bed becomes engulfed with flames. The smoke fills my lungs and I scream for Deuce.
“The bed is on fire, Deuce, what do we do?”
He doesn’t answer immediately and I back away from the flames, feeling the heat sweep over me.
“GET DOWN!”
Foolishly I glance up and my eyes widen in horror as the amber flames flicker above my head.
Then the ceiling buckles and I scream.
I can hear Bonnie Parker whisper her own fate into my ear.
It’s for the love of a man that I’m gonna have to die.
Then I close my eyes and pray they bury us side by side.
-Forty-four-
DEUCE
A deafening silence replaces the gunfire and quickly morphs into the loud roar of crackling fire. Desperate to find Ally amongst the flames, I lift my head from the ground. Pain shoots through my shoulder reminding me that I took a bullet before the roof caved in. Ignoring the throbbing pain in my shoulder, I blink trying to focus and call for Ally but thick black smoke fills my lungs and burns my eyes.
“Ally,” I choke, barely finishing her simple name as my lungs constrict. Then I hear her coughing and push myself off the floor. As I transfer my weight onto my arms, my shoulder threatens to give out but I bite the inside of my cheek and fight through the blinding pain.
“Ally!” I shout.
Following the sound of her cough, I crawl through the black fog and let the flames chase me. I shake off the fire from my leg and continue to crawl over the debris.
“Deuce,” she cries as my hand closes over her ankle.
“I’m right here, baby,” I shout as I glance around. The fire seems to be closing in on us, threatening to consume us like a raging fever. My eyes linger on the beam that looks like it’s ready to cave and I throw myself over Ally’s body. Acting like a firesafe shield, I push her hair away from her face, black soot decorates her pretty face and I press my lips to the tip of her nose.
The Nomad Series-Collectors Edition Page 95