by KB Winters
“Aspen?”
Still no answer. As fear welled up in my gut, my feet carried me to her side of the bunk room. Neat and tidy as usual with no traces of her silky things or her expensive designer clothes. Just a leather duffel bag and a suitcase stacked neatly beside her bed. No photos or other personal touches. Everything about the space said temporary.
“Aspen!”
The lump under the comforter still hadn’t stirred, which was just dis-fuckin’-respectful.
“Wake up!”
I threw open the curtains to let in a day’s worth of sun all at once, and she still didn’t move. My ego might like it if it had something to do with how good I fucked her last night, but something told me that wasn’t it.
“Aspen, goddammit, wake up.” Yanking the covers off her body, I grabbed her shoulder to shake her and found her skin cool to the touch.
And ashen. Shit, I couldn’t wait for her to wake up because something was wrong. Seriously fucking wrong, and I had a feeling it was all my fault. I scooped her up in my arms, much as I had last night, except now she wasn’t laughing or moaning with pleasure. Teasing me beyond all reason. This time she was chilled and damp, still out of it, and limp in my arms. My legs carried both of us across the gravel driveway to the big, gleaming whiteness of the big house.
“Stay with me, Aspen. Shit, stay with me. Please.” The idea of losing someone else was too much. My whole body trembled with fear as I climbed the steps and stomped inside. “Gunnar! Peaches! A little help.”
Dishes clattered in the kitchen when we arrived, and three sets of footsteps sounded before Gunnar and then Peaches appeared, followed by Martha Bennett, the cook and all-around mother hen.
“Aspen! What happened?” Peaches was at my side in a flash, putting a hand to Aspen’s skin and smacking her cheeks trying to get her to wake up.
“No clue. She didn’t show up for work, so I went to the bunkhouse and found her like this. The whole fucking place smells weird, like gas or something.”
“Shit!” Gunnar was on the move, heavy boots thumping against the hardwood floor.
“Be careful, no sparks or sudden fuckin’ moves, man!” He was already gone, and to her credit, Peaches’ focus remained on Aspen, but I couldn’t help but worry about Gunnar.
“Come on, let’s get her upstairs, and I’ll take care of her while you go make sure my man doesn’t blow himself up.”
“Deal,” I grunted and followed her up the stairs. “You know what to do for gas poisoning?”
Peaches barked out a laugh at the top of the stairs and motioned for me to enter one of the guest rooms.
“I know what to do for alcohol poisoning or a drug overdose, a gunshot wound, but not gas poisoning. Luckily for Aspen, I know a damn good doctor. I’ll give Annabelle a call while you get her settled.”
Peaches left me alone, and I laid Aspen across the bed, cupping her face and willing her to wake up. I didn’t even get the chance to do that with Ria, and I’d be damned if I lose another woman on my watch.
“Wake up. For once in your life, do what you’re told, woman.”
She coughed a little, but it was weak, the same as the flutter of her eyelids, but they finally revealed those beautiful blue orbs.
“Holden?” she muttered faintly.
“Thank fuck! How are you feeling?” She was weak and cold to the touch.
“Like. Crap.”
The sound was so damn welcome I thought I might shed actual tears of relief.
“That’s good. Any idea what happened to you?”
She shook her head and coughed again, attempted to sit up but a wince stopped her. “My head hurts like hell. What happened?”
Guess not. “Smells like a gas leak in the bunkhouse.”
Her blue eyes went wide and then panic set in.
“Gas? You think someone did it on purpose?”
“No fucking clue, but Peaches is calling the doctor to come check you out, and I need…to go.”
Why I felt nervous telling her that I didn’t know, but I didn’t want to leave her alone.
“I’m sorry, Aspen.”
She frowned and tried to sit up again. “I don’t need your apology.”
“Too damn bad, you already got it.” We stared at each other for a long, damn time, the air tense and silent between us. I didn’t know what the hell she wanted but now wasn’t the time. “I need to go check on Gunnar, make sure his dumb ass doesn’t end up passed out in the bunkhouse. He’s a lot heavier than you.”
Her lips twitched, but she dropped her head back down onto the pile of pillows and let out a long sigh. “Go.”
I got up from the bed, gave a sharp nod, and turned away, stopping at the door to give Aspen a last look, overcome with the sudden urge to kiss her. To make sure for myself that she was all right. I crossed to her bed, overcome at how helpless she looked.
“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Aspen.” I pressed my lips to hers, a kiss that wasn’t romantic or sweet or any of that gentle shit it should have been. This kiss was pure and simple, damn near obligatory, but it helped. She was safe. For now.
And I would make damn sure that she stayed safe from this moment forward. For now, I had to get Gunnar’s back. “You still conscious in here, man?”
Gunnar appeared seconds later with a dark scowl on his face. “You’re right. This shit was deliberate. Someone disconnected all the gas lines. What’s the fucking smell in the air? Fuck!”
It looked like Ken and Farnsworth decided to bring the fight to us.
Well, bring it on motherfuckers.
Bring. It. On.
***
“You didn’t really volunteer to go after this asshole just so you could show off your new truck again. Did you?”
I sat in the passenger’s seat of Wheeler’s brand new matte black SUV as we headed into Opey to see an asshole about a gas leak.
He laughed and smacked the black leather steering wheel with a whoop. “Not a lot of chances to drive on a ranch, at least not without getting this girl dirty.”
He treated this truck like it was his baby, which was both comforting and disconcerting, but we all did what we needed to survive.
“What are you complaining about, anyway? You get to ride around in this bad boy, perfect for going incognito at night.”
I snorted. “That explains the shade over the license plates. You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?”
“Thanks, man. How’s your girl?”
“She’s not my girl,” I said automatically. “And she’s fine, or so she says. The doc says she needs to take it easy and no matter how much she complains, I’m making sure she does.”
“Pretty short trip from hating her guts to willing to lay down your life for her.” That was Wheeler saying a lot without a whole lot of words.
“It was more stung pride than hate.” I was man enough to admit that now, given everything. “Besides, this has more to do with us than it does her.” Ken had only come here at Farnsworth’s insistence, for Peaches which meant for the Reckless Bastards.
“Whatever you say.” Wheeler wasn’t much of a sharer. He was a damn good leader and exactly the kind of man you wanted at your six when shit went down, but damn did he have the tense silence down to a science.
“Just be honest with yourself.”
“I always am.”
He pulled the car into a parking spot under a wide tree, and we got out to look at our surroundings.
“Always go in like it’s a mission,” he whispered more to himself than to me, but he wasn’t wrong, so I put my game face on and squared my shoulders.
“The lights are on,” I told him and pointed to Ken’s unit. “I guess that means he’s home.”
“It might agitate your southern manners to show up without announcing yourself, but this is business.” He flashed a smile and then squared his shoulders and hips before turning towards Ken’s door.
“Asshole,” I grumbled and followed him thinking about the last time I was here, sa
ving Aspen from that handsy asshole. It seemed like a lifetime ago. How could it have only been a few weeks? It felt as if Aspen and I had been in each other’s lives for years. Decades, even. Not weeks.
As we drew closer to the door, Ken’s voice came through loud and clear. “I said I was working on it, and I am. Don’t you trust me?” That sleazy fucker lied as much as he breathed.
“You’ve been sayin’ that for weeks, asshole. Time’s up.” Another man’s voice sounded; one I didn’t recognize.
Wheeler’s gaze met mine, and he nodded toward the door, mouthing the words “Me first,” as he pulled out his piece and turned the doorknob.
I pulled mine out and quietly followed him inside. Three men stood inside other than Ken; two were strapped and guarded the back room of the condo. The third had Ken’s lapel fisted in his hand, his feet dangling a few inches from the ground.
“Did somebody have a party and forget our invites?” Wheeler flashed a crazy-assed smile, his piece aimed at one of the armed men while I aimed one at the other and their apparent leader.
“Bummer,” the leader said, his smile fading. Quickly.
“Drop ’em. Now.” The men heard the same steel in Wheeler’s voice that I did, but they were either stubborn or loyal. Or just fucking stupid. Didn’t matter which to me as long as they put their guns down.
“Or I can just put one in this dude’s head. They both work for me.”
I raised my gun even higher so it was aimed right at his head, just in case these idiots didn’t get the message.
“Guns down,” he growled and stood slowly, turning to size up Wheeler first, and then me. “And who in the fuck are you two?”
“I’ll be asking the questions,” Wheeler told the man, and I kept my gun trained on his goons. “Who are you?”
“Name’s Giz, Sons of Wicked, Mesa Chapter. Enforcer. What business you Reckless Bastards got with limp dick, here?”
I blinked at the amount of information contained in that short sentence. Ken had somehow pissed off another MC. Dumb shit.
“You first,” Wheeler insisted, and Giz shrugged like it was no big deal.
“This fucktard owes my MC thirty-five g’s. He thought he could skip town and we’d just forget that he gambled more than he could afford to lose. Then he sent some wannabe assassin in black to try and buy the debt. We sent his ass packing, too, and now we’re hoping Kenny boy here has had time to reconsider.”
He smacked Ken’s face hard but playfully.
Wheeler looked over at me. His expression mirrored my thoughts. What the fuck did we just stumble into?
I shrugged, and Wheeler turned back to Giz.
“You go after his ex to entice him to pay?”
Giz frowned. “Nah. She hasn’t been around for at least the past week so we figured she grew a brain and dumped his sorry ass. Plus he’s got a new piece, don’tcha Kenny boy?” His grip tightened, forcing Ken to choke out a breath.
“Save something for us,” Wheeler told him, feet still rooted to the ground.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Giz asked, eerie light green eyes wide and wild looking. He pulled his fist back with a laugh and unleashed it dead center on Ken’s nose.
“You do something to your ex, Kenny boy? Are you one of those fuck tits who can’t take rejection?”
When it didn’t look like Ken would answer, Giz hit him again, this time the sound of crunching bone echoed in the living room.
“Answer me before I get mad.”
“No,” he finally said, but he was full of shit.
“I don’t believe you,” Giz sang and hit him again. “One more time.” This time there was no pretense. Giz pushed him against the wall and held them there with his forearm across Ken’s throat. “You do something to your ex?”
“I didn’t. I swear.” The asshole couldn’t even be bothered to lie well when it might save his life.
“I still smell bullshit.” Giz hit him three more times, splitting open Ken’s bottom lip and his left cheek.
“Okay! Okay! Fine, yeah I did something.” He spat the words and sucked in oxygen. “That rich bitch thinks she can leave me for some fucking biker after all the time I put in? Nah, she’s gotta pay since I didn’t even get to her money. Yet.” He let out a satisfied laugh. “Not so pretty with her skin all red and blistered, is she bubba?” His gaze slammed into mine, and I lost it.
My feet moved on their own, my boots loud against the hard floors until I was in his face.
“Her face is still as beautiful as fucking ever. How’s yours?” Before he could answer, I punched him twice in the right eye. “If I catch you even thinking about Hardtail, I’ll skin you alive and leave you for the fucking coyotes. Got it?”
He nodded quickly, eyes wide and terrified. “She ain’t worth it, man. Trust me.”
I punched him right in the fucking mouth. “You talk too much. That’s for the biker comment.”
Wheeler stayed where he was while I walked to the door and opened it. “We’ll be right out front.”
“I promise to leave him able to answer questions. From one MC to another.”
Wheeler nodded and joined me outside. “That was some weird shit, right?” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe what had just happened.
“Pretty fucking weird, yeah. But this is our life now, Wheeler.”
“At least the enemies are clear out here.” There was a weight to his words, and I knew he was talking about whatever it was he refused to talk about with anyone. Even his brother Mitch, the head shrinker.
“Yeah, but damn, is it me or does it seem to be more of ’em here in Opey?”
Wheeler’s face spread into a wide grin that transformed him from an intimidating bastard into something else entirely.
“Nature of the beast, I guess. Especially with Peaches so connected to the underbelly of the government.” Something he was all too familiar with since he did the blackest of black ops. “When this is over, hopefully, we’ll be able to relax a little.”
“I’ll settle for a week, maybe two. Is that too much?” I didn’t even want to think about what would happen with me and Aspen when this was all over, whatever the fuck this was. And I couldn’t afford to think about it now, not with her safety on the line.
“You really think the gas line was Ken?”
“Fuck no. Probably can’t even connect a stove without blowing himself up.” Wheeler snorted and lit one of those black cigarettes he was fond of smoking. They took fucking forever but damn they smelled incredible.
“It was Farnsworth, but he’s just fucking with us.”
“What makes you so sure?” Wheeler knew more than I did. He was all over this shit.
“Because he could have opened the valve enough to do serious brain damage or kill her altogether. This was just a warning. Ken took the credit because like Giz said, he’s a limp dick.”
Which meant this wasn’t over, not yet. “What are the odds this Farnsworth will just give up?”
Wheeler shrugged. “Nil. We don’t even know what the fuck he wants, only that he thinks Peaches has it or can get it for him.”
“Fuck. A ranch shutdown is in our future, isn’t it?”
Wheeler grinned just as the front door opened to reveal Giz and his backup.
“Damn straight it is.” He clapped me on the back and went to have a word with Giz before we stepped inside to get a little info from Ken.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Aspen
Who would’ve thought a little invisible gas would have me laid up in bed for nearly a week? Certainly not me, but Dr. Annabelle insisted I take the nausea and dizziness seriously, which I did. Unfortunately, for the last five days, I woke up with a wicked headache and the kind of nausea that put my worst hangover to shame. But today I felt, not better, but not as sick, and my pain was minimum.
“Tell me the truth, Dr. Keyes.”
Annabelle Keyes was what I would consider the perfect woman. She was beautiful with thick hair that she wor
e in a bun or a ponytail every time she stopped by to check on me. Her big brown eyes had bolts of gold lightning in them; her pale skin softened the harshness of her features. And to top it all off, she was a doctor. A beautiful female doctor. While I was just a woman with a trust fund. And terrible taste in men.
“Have you been taking it easy, Aspen?” She arched her brows, daring me to lie to her.
“I’ve been taking it comatose, Doc, I swear.”
Between Holden and Peaches, I could barely get up to take a trip to the bathroom on my own. My meals were all served in bed, which was nice on days one and two, but by the third day I would’ve torn off my leg just to look at something other than the nice blue and white wallpaper.
Holden refused to let me do any kind of ranch work and thanks to the headaches, I couldn’t do anything on the computer or watch TV.
“Tell me I’m on the mend. Please.”
She laughed, and it was a feminine sound I wished I could pull off without sounding like I was offering up free blowjobs.
“How’s the dizziness when you’re up and walking around?”
“It happens so rarely, but today has been the best day so far. A little queasy, but if I start slow, it goes away. The head pain is about a three.”
She nodded and looked up from her tablet. “Good. That means you’re getting better, but it also means you have to listen to your body, Aspen. Don’t push yourself out of pride or obligation. It will only take longer for you to heal.”
“That wasn’t what I wanted to hear, Doc.” It was bad enough that I was technically sleeping with my boss, but not being able to work to earn my stay here, especially now, didn’t sit too well with me. And I was honestly worried that I might offend Peaches if I just offered money.
“I know, and I’m sorry, but the good news is that you’re healing. This isn’t such a bad place to recover, is it?”
“No, but I don’t want to be a burden,” I told her around a yawn, feeling my eyelids start to grow heavy. “I’m tired of being a burden, Doc.”
“Peaches isn’t one to mince words. If she didn’t want you here, she’d tell you. Rest up and find a way to pay her back. She loves shoes and gadgets. Now get some rest, and I’ll see you in two days.”