“You know I even made myself stop dreaming about this,” said Maggie, her voice a whisper. “In the moment, it made all my pain better. But after it was over, it felt like I was just skinning myself alive.”
Jase’s heart ached. He tightened his hold around her and gave her a more passionate kiss. He wanted to tell her everything about the darkness he had endured after she left, but he stopped himself. Those days suddenly felt so distant, and he wanted the beautiful woman in his arms to see him as strong. He lightly rubbed his cheek against hers and said instead, “I know how you feel.”
“I wish I could take every second of it back. Every bit of pain I put you through…” Two stray tears dropped from Maggie’s blue eyes and ran down her face.
Jase rubbed the tears off her face with a gentle thumb. “I wish I could take a lot of things back, too. I wish I had listened to you and stood up to Henry years ago. I know you’re not a heartless person, Maggie, and I know you don’t believe it, but you’re not a coward. I know you wouldn’t have left me unless you really felt like you were backed into a corner.”
“If I’m not a coward, then I’m at least an animal stupid enough to keep getting trapped in corners,” said Maggie with a self-effacing smile.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” said Jase, running a hand through her hair. “That’s not you, babe. That’s just the world. But you never let them corner you, and that’s why things will work out. You’re a survivor. You’ll burn shit down before you get trapped.”
Something sad surfaced in Maggie’s eyes. He stroked her hair and waited. She said, “Henry told me my mom felt like I do. That she felt like she set things on fire, too.” She looked off into the bedroom. “I know so little about her, but I like the thought that I’m not some black sheep of the Oliver family. I like thinking.... maybe I’m just her daughter, and I’m exactly the way I’m supposed to be. If she had lived, maybe I wouldn’t feel this way.”
Jase and Maggie had never been big on family talk. Between her lost mother, and his abusive fuck of a father, it was no sunny place to visit. But Jase could see on her face that this was different.
He held her head tight and looked in her eyes. “You’re not a black sheep, Maggie. You are an incredible woman. You’re unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love everything about who you are. If Sara was half the woman you are… then I can understand why Henry married her. And why he still wears his ring after all these years.”
Maggie’s face wrinkled as she fought back tears. She threw her arm around Jase’s neck and pulled him in to kiss him firmly and deeply. Jase rubbed his hands up and down the soft skin of her back and moaned softly into her kiss.
“I love you,” said Maggie with a shaking voice.
“I love you,” he whispered in return.
Maggie sighed against him. Jase smiled and kissed her forehead. He loved the sight of her soft skin against the pillow, her curls spilling like silk. Her warm body felt amazing against his.
After a few minutes of cuddling in silence, Maggie rolled onto her back. She wiped her eyes and made a gruff noise. “It got really mushy in here.”
Jase laughed and put a hand on her tummy. “Like I said, zero romance with you, Oliver.”
“That is an outrage. I’m the Frank Sinatra of this relationship,” said Maggie, pounding her fist on the mattress.
“You’re a crazy person,” said Jase. He laughed and yanked her back against his body.
Maggie tapped her fingers up his chest. “I think we should take a shower.”
“I could go for some coffee,” he added. At the same time, they both finished: “And a smoke!”
“Jinx,” said Maggie. She kissed his head and pulled away from his grasp to stand next to the bed.
“Man, am I going to have to start keeping track of those again?” said Jase as he threw his legs off the edge of the bed. He pulled his jeans off the floor and dug around until he found his cell phone. As expected, he already had two missed calls from Henry.
“Real life, eh?” said Maggie, looking down at him.
Jase fired off a text to Henry saying they were safe, and would be back at the clubhouse soon. He didn’t wait for a reply. He put the phone face down on the nightstand. “Not right this minute.”
Maggie smiled and winked at him. “Since I don’t know this place, I guess you’re making the coffee.”
“Indeed,” he said. He stood up and dropped a long, slow kiss on her lips. “Be just a minute.”
Jase headed to his kitchen and immediately put the kettle on. Yawning, he dug out the coffee grounds and French press from his cupboard. Ever since Will had convinced him to try it instead of the shitty brew from a drip maker, Jase had been hooked. He started gathering cups and additives.
“I think I’m out of smokes,” said Maggie in a faraway voice from the bedroom.
“There’s a pack in my right saddle bag,” said Jase. He peeked into the fridge for any sort of creamer or milk to offer. Maggie never did like her coffee black.
Maggie walked out of the bedroom in some jeans and a tank top, and Jase made a disappointed noise. “Hey, what’s with the clothes?”
“Your saddle bag is on your bike, and your bike is outside,” she said in a mocking sing-song voice. She unlocked and pulled open the front door. “Unless you want me to put on a show for your neighbors.”
“They didn’t buy tickets,” said Jase with a shake of his head.
Maggie laughed and blew him a kiss. From the stove, the kettle started its high-pitched song.
Jase was pouring the boiling water into the press when he heard Maggie scream, and the chilling report of two deafening gunshots. He fumbled and dropped the kettle, spilling hot water all over his bare legs and feet. He roared in pain and kicked the kettle aside as he rushed for the front door screaming Maggie’s name.
From the doorway he saw two men in masks dragging Maggie’s limp and unconscious body into the back of a dark black van. A third held his bleeding left arm and cursed them loudly as he scrambled around to the passenger seat.
Jase leapt off the porch and charged towards them, not giving a second thought to the fact that he was completely naked or the pain from his burning legs. The men in the back yelled at the driver until he slammed on the gas. Tires squealed in a smoking fury as the van shot away from Jase’s driveway and down the street, back door still swinging on open hinges. In the driveway, tinted glass had been scattered like black candy.
For a split second Jase stared in impotent horror as he watched the van charge away. He turned back for his bike and dug out the spare ignition key he kept in a small pocket in the saddle bag. On the ground nearby, he saw Maggie’s Bersa 9mm. He picked it up and kept it tucked under one of his naked legs as he started up the bike and tore after them.
I never should have let her step one fucking foot outside. Jase’s mind raged as he swerved through the neighborhood at insane speeds, trying to catch up to Maggie’s kidnappers. He caught sight of them heading towards the heart of LeBeau, their position given away by the shattered back window that Maggie must have hit when she tried to fire on them. She had her gun on her and she tried to use it. She’d done exactly what they had told her to do. But he had failed her.
The chase got complicated as the van swerved through streets already bustling with people up early to enjoy their summer weekend. More than once Jase had to lane-share or ride down the middle of the two-lane roads to get around cars in his way. From the sidewalks, he heard people yelling and screaming as the chase passed by, pulling each other out of the danger zone.
Don’t give up, you piece of shit…
Up ahead, the van was about to hit a stoplight with three cars already waiting. Jase expected the driver to see he was trapped, and slow down or take a detour. He let out a curse when the van sped up, swerved into the oncoming lanes, and barreled into the intersection. Horns blared and brakes squealed as the cross-traffic swerved to miss it. One of the cars turned just at the nick of time, missing the van, and crashing
instead into a post office box on the corner.
“Fuck!” Jase shouted. He tried to follow the van’s path, but four other cars sat stalled in the intersection, and witnesses had already started crawling out of their own cars to investigate. Several of them shouted very choice words at the naked biker trying to callously maneuver through the scene of the accident.
By the time Jase got past the intersection, he couldn’t find a sightline on the van. Desperate, he followed the road without turning until it came to the mountain and merged with the highway. All manner of cars sped past his quiet little town, but none of them looked like the black van.
Maggie was gone.
~ FIFTEEN ~
Maggie’s hands had been deep in the saddle bag of Jase’s bike when the van squealed up to a haphazard stop on the sidewalk. After that, everything happened fast. The rear doors on the van flew open before it had even come to a full stop. She saw limbs come tumbling out in a rush, and suddenly men in masks were bearing down on her. She didn’t remember screaming, but she did remember the feel of the Bersa in her hand when she pulled it out of her waistband. She had it cocked by the time the first one reached her, but he couldn’t stop her squeezing off two wild shots. One of them shouted over the sound of busting glass. A man’s big hand twisted cruelly in her hair and Maggie’s vision spun as he yanked her backwards. She heard the crisp sound of electricity buzzing. Then something painful dug itself into the flesh of her shoulder, and the world went black.
When she came to, Maggie couldn’t move. They had bent her legs and arms back and zip-tied them together. She laid on her side, helpless, as they maneuvered her around the van’s space with little concern for her comfort. Since she couldn’t see through the cloth bag on her head, every touch came as a shock.
“Is he still behind us?” one of them said, breathless.
“Fuckin’ dude is crazy!” said another in a much harsher voice.
Maggie groaned in pain. “You motherfucking cowards…” she spit out as she wriggled pointlessly in her binds. Her arms were already aching, pulled back in such discomfort. Despite being dressed in a tank top and jeans, she had never felt so vulnerable or exposed, and it enraged her just as much as it frightened her.
One of the men responded by pressing a monstrous hand around her neck and squeezing hard enough to cut off her air supply. Maggie choked and sputtered a few seconds until he released her. “Why don’t you just keep your mouth shut, you stupid bitch, before I shut it for you.”
“Here, use this,” said one of the other men. There was faint rustling. Someone lifted the cloth over Maggie’s head just a bit, and roughly stuffed a white cloth into her mouth before putting the hood back down. Maggie cried against the gag until she felt another hand around her neck.
“I mean it. Shut the fuck up. Don’t make us give you something to cry about.” The hand around her neck disappeared and one began groping her breast with harsh fingers. Maggie clenched up and whimpered as tears began to soak the black cloth hood over her head. After the hand lifted, she took a deep thankful breath. She tried to quiet her crying as the van jostled over rough bumps and around sharp highway curves. Wherever they were taking her, it wasn’t in LeBeau.
When the van finally came to a stop, rough hands yanked Maggie out onto the ground. Someone cut the ties on her legs and feet, allowing her to walk but with her arms still immobile. She bit down on the cloth gag in her mouth every time she felt her feet slip on the blind walk. A few times her captors let her fall to the asphalt before they pulled her back to her bare feet and pushed her forward. Judging by the laughter, they were clearly enjoying the entertainment. She felt clumsy gropes at her ass and legs a few times when she was ‘helped up’.
They entered some building big enough to produce echoes, and someone took Maggie’s arm the entire walk from the front door, keeping her on what was probably a narrow path. Wherever they were must have been industrial, dangerous if she fell. The hand around her arm gripped tightly enough to hurt and cut off further circulation, but she was too scared to struggle. She let them lead her through a dark maze and into what sounded like a smaller room, where she was tied to a chair and left alone for several minutes.
The room was quiet and muffled enough that she could hear the racing of her own heart. She couldn’t believe her life could end like this, especially now. She had finally begun to heal her greatest wound, her biggest regret. Of course it would be now when the reaper decided to come calling. She felt cursed, like her father felt cursed. And as fearful as it was, her heart was equally wrenching in pain for Jase. After all of this, was he just going to have to bury her? Pick out some stupid dress for her cold corpse to wear for eternity? What had she done? Maggie started crying again, wishing she had never come back to LeBeau. I should have let Evan kill me in Eagleton. I should have run anywhere else. I destroy everything I touch.
Her thoughts cut off quickly when the big metal door into the room creaked open. She jumped at the sound. Footsteps, many footsteps, entered the room. More men than had been in the van in the first place.
“Nice work,” said one of them. “And the invitation has already been sent. Shouldn’t be long.”
“It better fuckin’ not be, after all this,” said another. “Already got a guy with a bullet in his arm and this shit ain’t even finished yet.”
Someone approached her and Maggie tensed up as if it would protect her from being touched. Rough hands removed the black hood from her head and pulled out the cloth gag. Pain from the sudden brightness stung Maggie’s eyes, and she squinted as she breathed freely for the first time in hours.
“Hello there, darlin’. I sure am glad to see you.”
When her eyes finally adjusted to the light, Maggie opened them to see Evan’s cruel smile in front of her face. He bent down right in front of her, his gaunt face cut sharply in the harsh light. Around them stood a bunch of men with weapons, whose faces and shaved heads she didn’t recognize. The blood drained from her stomach.
“I don’t remember giving you the idea that our arrangement had an opt-out clause,” said Evan, smiling, his tone suggesting everything was sunny. She supposed it was, for him. “You hurt me real bad when you took off, babe. You always thought you were so much fucking smarter than me, but not smart enough to realize I’ve had a low-jack on that car of yours since the first time I fucked you.” He reached out and ran a hand through her hair. When she instinctively tried to pull away from him, his touch became tangled talons yanking her back to look at his face.
“Now, now, you’re coming home,” said Evan, whispering close to her. He held her head still while he hovered over her, his lips brushing against hers with increased force. He licked his tongue across her closed mouth. “No need to fight it. I already have a long list of new friends for you to meet.” Evan kept his face close to hers, breathing on her. His hot breath on her skin smelled like cheap beer. He panted on her while he trailed a hand down her jaw, her neck, and her chest, before crudely molesting her breasts. He stared at her face when she tensed and sucked in a breath, wanting to fight but helpless to do so. He loved watching her realize she had no control.
Evan made a little moan against her and she felt sick. She closed her eyes when his hand dropped between her breasts, snaking down her stomach towards her center. She felt his fingertips on her mound when one of the other men in the room interrupted. “We don’t fucking have time for this.”
Immediately Evan stood and removed his hands from her body. Maggie released the breath she realized she’d been holding and tried with great difficulty to hold back her tears.
“Fair enough,” said Evan. He walked up to the man who had spoken. Maggie realized then that everyone in the room except Evan had his head shaved or buzzed down to nothing. “I just feel like a kid on Christmas, that’s all.”
The apparent leader of the other men seemed impatient with Evan. “There ain’t gonna be a Christmas for nobody if her old man don’t pay up like you promised.”
“H
e will, he will! It’s his only daughter, of course he will pay,” said Evan.
Maggie listened with interest as the pieces began to fall into place. Evan must have trailed her from Eagleton somehow, and when he saw that Maggie had the protection of the MC, he probably did what he was best at: recruit someone else to do the hard work for him. Whatever ransom they were trying to extort from Henry and the MC would no doubt be the payment to the thugs he had hired.
And then Evan would drag Maggie away with him and disappear into the underground, and Henry and Jase would be left double-crossed, ransom paid with no hostage. Or worse—the thugs would simply murder them for the cash at the exchange.
Maggie began to cry at the thought that Jase, and her father, were about to meet their doom. “Evan, please. I’ll go with you without a fight if you just promise not to hurt them.”
Evan turned from his conversation to face her. His expression was one of cruel amusement. “Oh, sweetheart. Will you really?”
Sanctum: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel Page 14