Reno looks at Rusty as he scoots from the bench seat, already moving toward the door. “You expecting anybody?”
Rusty shakes his head. They both peer out the window. Reno pulls the gun he has tucked in his waist at the small of his back. Rusty puts his hand up, listening. “Hang on. I think it’s the prospect. Hear that? His bike’s knocking. I told him his ignition timing wasn’t set properly.”
Reno turns to me. “Wait here, babe.”
I nod, but the minute they’re through the door, I move to the couch and slide the window open a half-inch. The blinds are shut, and the lights are dim, so they won’t see me.
The prospect shuts his bike down and pulls his helmet off. He stands. and Rusty and Reno both fold their arms, listening to what he has to say.
I strain to hear.
“Rat made a deal with the judge, only it’s not the one you think.”
“What deal?”
“He told the judge to give the full sentence to Growler.”
Reno and Rusty exchange a look.
“Just what you suspected,” Reno says.
“We can’t let her go now. We let her go, Rat’s gonna turn it on us, say we’re the reason Prez got sent up.”
I pull back, my stomach dropping and my blood running cold.
The prospect lights up a cigarette. “There’s more.”
“Spill,” Reno orders.
“He wants her dead. She’s seen us all.”
“Only because Rat’s a dumbass.” Reno turns to Rusty. “He purposely showed up here. He knew he wasn’t going to let her live.”
The prospect interrupts. “He’s sending Reload and Quick to make sure the job gets done. I don’t think he trusts the two of you to do it.”
Rusty and Reno exchange a look.
“Fucking hell,” Rusty murmurs, then snaps at the prospect, “What else?”
He shrugs. “I left as soon as I could. They’re probably not far behind me, maybe an hour. I hauled ass.”
Rusty looks at Reno. “We need to move her and fast. You got any ideas?”
Reno runs his hand down his face. “Fuck, I don’t know.”
The prospect says, “I know a place. My Uncle’s got some hunting land.”
“Yeah? Where?” Rusty asks.
“Its about five hundred acres, borders the Cahaba River, between Marion and Selma. It’s pretty remote. I could take you there.”
Reno and Rusty exchange another look and nod.
“We need to get out of here now,” Reno says.
“I’ll take the car. We’ll have to leave our bikes.” Rusty lifts his chin toward the two Harleys parked under a tree.
Reno nods. “We should stash ‘em in the woods. Quick and Reload are gonna be pretty pissed when they drive all the way out here and we’re gone. Hate to find out they fucked ‘em up.”
“Good idea.”
“Thanks, kid,” Rusty slaps the prospect on the shoulder.
The men move their bikes into the woods. They jerk down all of the camo netting and use it to cover them up. Soon, they’re heading this way.
I move to the booth, pretending to pick at my food.
Reno comes through the door first and stops, looking at me.
“Everything okay?” I ask, knowing it’s not.
“Yeah. Fine. We’re um… gonna move the RV to another location.”
***
Two hours later, it’s drizzling and Reno’s driving, following the prospect in front of us. I’m sitting in the passenger seat. My heart beats a mile a minute, and I wonder if they’re taking me out to kill me and dump my body.
I try questioning Reno without letting on I overheard everything, but he tells me little.
Reno suddenly brakes. We’re in the middle of nowhere. The prospect has pulled his bike to the shoulder. We’re on an old road that’s more potholes than blacktop. On either side, woods surround us. I haven’t seen a house in a long time.
The prospect dismounts and jogs to Reno’s side window. He rolls it down.
“This is it. You take that dirt road on the right. It goes back a couple miles. There’s a wide high spot you should be able to park this thing.”
“Thanks, kid.”
“I’m heading back.”
Reno nods and rolls the window up. Rain patters on the windshield. I glance in the side mirror and see Rusty behind us in the sedan. We make the turn off the blacktop, and the RV rocks from side to side.
Reno drives down the dirt road, and we’re soon deep in the woods. It’s creepy in the dark. Eventually the headlights sweep over a break in the trees. It’s the start of a small meadow.
“This must be it,” Reno says, turning the giant steering wheel to pull over in the gravel area. “Glad someone thought to dump some gravel back here, otherwise I think this beast would sink in the mud.”
“There’s no mud.”
“Not yet, but this rain keeps up, there will be.”
He sets the parking brake, and headlights from the sedan sweep over us, and then shut off. A minute later, Rusty comes through the door. He’s already got droplets on his shirt.
“Remote is fucking right,” he says.
“You get any calls?” Reno asks.
Rusty pulls his phone out. “No, but I’m not sure I’ve even got service out here. You?”
“If you don’t, I won’t.” He pulls his phone out and checks. “Nope.”
“Well, that’s gonna suck.”
“We won’t be here long.”
“Nope. Shouldn’t take long to take care of things.”
Every word they say makes me even more uneasy. Are they really going to kill me out here? Am I what they need to take care of?
“Well, now that I know where the fuck you are, I’m gonna take off. Make it back to Atlanta and take care of what we talked about,” Rusty says.
Reno nods. “All right. Let me walk to the car with you. There might be some supplies in the trunk I could use.”
Supplies from the trunk? Like what? A shovel to dig my grave?
They move down the stairs, and I see them through the window walking toward the back of the RV where Rusty had parked.
I know this is my chance. If they’ve decided to carry out Rat’s order, I have to run, and I have to do it now. I don’t stop to think about anything; I don’t even grab any supplies. I slip out the door as quietly as possible. I creep soundlessly to the front of the RV and then dash across the flat meadow. I choose the meadow on the right over the forest on the left, thinking that I don’t want to risk thrashing through the woods and breaking branches. They would hear and be on me in a minute. I move quickly but carefully. It’s dark, and I can’t see much, but my eyes are adjusting to the low light.
I’m a good distance away when I look back. The headlights of the sedan sweep in a turn. They illuminate Reno, who stands with his arm lifted, waving him off. Then that shadow turns and heads to the door of the RV. I see light from inside as he steps up and shuts himself inside.
I know I’ve only got a moment before he realizes I’m not in the bathroom or the bedroom. He doesn’t have many places in the RV to search.
At least with his cell not having service, he won’t be able to call Rusty back to help him find me.
I turn and run for my life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Reno—
Kara’s not in the front of the RV when I step inside. I shake the rain off my denim shirt and slick my hair, making my way toward the back. “Kara?”
She’s not in the bedroom, and I frown, turning to the closed bathroom door. I tap on it. “Babe?”
There’s no sound, so I open it. Empty. My stomach drops. Fuck, where is she?
“Kara!” I move quickly through to the door and fling it open. “Kara!”
I see nothing, and she doesn’t respond. Fucking hell, she’s run.
I ransack the RV until I find a flashlight in one of the cabinets. I throw on my jacket and exit the vehicle. Flipping on the light, I scan the wet g
round until I find a set of small footprint leading through some mud at the edge of the gravel. Has to be her. I look in the direction of the prints. She must have headed across the field. It’s dark, but I think I see something light-colored moving into the tree line. It’s gone as quickly as I see it.
I take off at a run. It has to be her, and I know I’ve got to catch up to her soon if I have any hope of finding her out here. As I run, Prospect’s words run in a loop in my head. My uncle’s got five hundred acres. Five hundred acres.
Kara—
I run through the trees, trying to be as silent as possible. The rain soon turns to a downpour, soaking my hair, shirt, and pants, until it soaks into my shoes.
I run until I can’t anymore, only stopping to rest my hand against the trunk of a pine tree. My breathing is labored, and I’m terrified. I’m lost in the woods with no clue where I’m going.
It’s cold and my clothes cling soddenly to my shivering body. I wish I’d made more of an attempt to notice what direction we’d been driving. In the dark, the woods are a creepy place. The gnarled and twisted trees and bushes begin to look like crouching animals in the dim light. And then I think of the animals that may very well live here. Bears, mountain lions, even wild pigs can be dangerous. And then there are the snakes. This is like some horror movie, and the most dangerous creature of them all is the man who wants to kill me.
I hear a sound and look back. There it is again. It’s faint, but it’s Reno calling my name, luring me to my death. I stay silent, turn, and run.
Finally, I break through the woods. There’s a long swath of grass stretching to the right and left. I move to my right, running until my side starts to hurt.
A bolt of lightning cracks across the sky, and I spot it—a deer stand, some ten feet in the air. The rain pours down in a deluge.
I dash to the stand and make my way up the slippery, decrepit wooden ladder, praying there’s no animal taking refuge inside the small structure. It’s blackness except for the small square windows cut out. I pull myself onto the plywood floor and drag my body inside. Old dry leaves crackle and crunch under me, and I pray there are no spiders or snakes in here.
I back against the corner, shivering and clutching my arms tight around me. The rain pours down, beating on the roof. Lightning flashes again, and thunder booms right after. A strong wind buffets the structure, and it sways, the wood creaking. I panic, praying the thing won’t collapse in a heap with my weight. Please just give me shelter until daylight, then I’ll figure out what to do.
I think of Reno out in this storm, searching for me. Does he have his gun?
I don’t look out the windows; I stay back, huddled in my corner, and try not to move or make a sound. This is like every horror movie I’ve ever watched all rolled into one, and I have no intension of being the dumb blonde who runs stupidly to her death.
I’m so cold that my fingers are almost numb. I try to warm them against my stomach, but it’s cold and wet, too. I blow on them, shaking like a leaf.
The rain slacks off to a slow patter, and I think about moving, but this is probably the safest place for me to spend the night.
Twice, after what seems like hours of worry, I drift into a daze, only to jerk awake at the first sound. A flare of dim light flashes across the inside ceiling of the stand, and my eyes widen, and I hold my breath. What was that?
And then it happens again, and I know it’s the bouncing beam of a flashlight. Reno. He’s found me. I don’t move, and I don’t make a sound, praying over and over in my head, oh, please pass me by.
The stand shakes, and I know it’s his boots on the rungs.
“Kara? You up there?” His voice is snatched by the wind and carried off, but he’s right there.
I have no weapon to fight him off, so I do the only thing I can think of, I scoot toward the opening. He hears me of course.
“Kara!”
He appears, and I kick him in the face, hoping he’ll fall back. He doesn’t. He grabs my leg to keep from losing his balance, and I hear him curse.
“Fucking hell.” He juggles the light; it flashes briefly across me and then drops to the ground below. “Jesus, babe. It’s me.”
“Leave me alone. Please. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die,” I begin to beg for my life.
He heaves his body inside. I kick him repeatedly, wondering when he’ll bring his gun out and shoot. He finally overpowers me, pinning me to the floor. “Will you quit, woman. What the fuck’s gotten into you?”
We are both soaking wet, but he’s newly drenched, and the water runs off him, droplets flinging onto me, making me even colder. I’m shivering so badly, my teeth clatter. What adrenaline I had racing through my body is long gone. There’s no strength left in me to fight, and I break down in sobs.
His face set and cold, he says, “I’m not going to kill you, Kara. For Christ’s sake, I love you. Don’t you get that?”
I’m stunned speechless. “W-what?”
He pulls me up, then wraps me in his arms. “You fucking scared the hell out of me. I thought I lost you.”
“You… y-you don’t w-want to kill me?” I whisper, still not convinced.
“No, baby, I swear to you. I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you. I promised you that, didn’t I? Why did you run?”
“I heard the prospect. I h-heard you t-talking. He said Rat w-wanted me dead. Rusty said you c-couldn’t let me g-go now, or the club would blame you f-for what happened to your president.”
“You heard wrong.”
“No, n-no I didn’t.”
“Well, that’s not what we meant. We just can’t let them think we didn’t follow the plan. Don’t you see, babe, that’s why we moved the RV. So the club can’t find us, and we figure this shit out. I swear to you, that’s the truth.”
“You d-don’t have your gun?”
“No, all I have is the flashlight that I dropped when you kicked me in the jaw.” He rubs the side of his face. “Fucking hurts like hell, too. Damn, babe.”
“S-sorry.”
“Kara, you’re shaking like a leaf.”
“I’m so c-cold.”
“I need to get you back to the RV. Can you walk?”
“No, please. Let’s just s-stay here.” I snuggle against him. “We c-can keep each other w-warm.” I slump wearily against him. He tugs his jacket free and throws it around me for warmth.
Without realizing, I begin to whimper softly, like a wounded animal.
He strokes my head, holding me close. “Honey, everything’s gonna be okay. I’m here. I promise everything’s going to work out. Your dad will do what we ask, and we’ll take you home. I swear.”
“Y-your c-club won’t let m-me live.”
“Rusty and I are workin’ that out. We got a plan.”
“A p-plan?”
“I’ll explain it all later.”
Finally, after an hour, the rain stops, and the clouds move off, revealing the moon. Reno insists we go back. “Babe, you’re gonna catch pneumonia out here. We gotta go.”
Reno—
Kara makes it to the meadow before her strength gives out. I pick her up and carry her the rest of the way. She seems to weigh nothing. I get her inside and put her on the bed. The lights are out. I flick the switch and curse. The heat’s out, too, and I can no longer hear the generator. I pull my cell out of my pocket and turn on the flashlight option long enough to strip her out of her wet clothes and wrap her in the sheets and comforter. I grab an extra blanket and add it to the pile.
She’s still shivering.
“I’ve got to check on the generator. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I dash outside and use my cell to check it. There’s still fuel, but I can’t get it started. I think the battery’s dead, but I also find a leak in a hose and a puddle of coolant. I slam the service door shut and go back inside.
I strip my wet clothes off and climb in bed with Kara, holding her against me, skin to shivering skin. Her forehead presses against my
throat, and I realize she has a fever.
“Goddamn it, Kara,” I whisper angrily. “You must’ve been out of your mind to do a thing like that. Your head is hotter than a tailpipe.”
We fall asleep nested together.
***
The sound of her breathing alarms me when I wake. I put my hand on her head, and she’s hot, though not as hot as the night before. She opens her eyes while I’m testing and smiles.
“Good morning.” Her brows rise. “Did you see the fireflies?”
I frown. What the hell is she talking about now?
“The fireflies. Last night they were flying all around in here.”
“That’s your fever working on you. You need a doctor.”
“You make a very good doctor for what I need.” She giggles. “Let’s have sex.”
“You’re out of your head.” Last night she thought I was going to kill her. Now she wants to fuck.
“I’m not sick. I have a chest cold. I’ve had them before, and I’ve felt a hundred times worse than this.”
Her eyes are still glassy, as she babbles on, determined to prove me wrong. I ignore her and grab a bottle of water.
She drinks thirstily. I pour some on a bandana and press it to her forehead.
“That feels good,” she murmurs but shivers.
I move to get her another blanket, and when I turn back, she’s sitting up, shoving the covers off. “Kara, stop it.”
Her eyes fill with tears—increasing my feeling of helplessness and my certainty that she’s delirious with fever. I search for a thermometer, rummaging through every drawer and cabinet, knowing damn well I’ll never find one in this old rattletrap.
I do come across an old bottle of aspirin in the glove box. If that doesn’t do the trick, I know one thing for certain. I won’t risk her life.
If her fever doesn’t come down, then she can’t stay here—the only help for her will be a doctor and that means a hospital for her, and most probably a jail cell for me.
I get her to take three, and she complies.
“I want you to make love to me. Let’s blame it on the fever. I think a fever must be like tequila. It lets you say all sorts of things you wouldn’t have the nerve to say otherwise, and it gets all the blame.”
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