“Baby, I need to be inside of you.” She kept sucking, taking him in even further until his fat cock was in her throat. “Oh Jesus, Beck...baby...” She gulped a few times and he nearly exploded, but he wanted to be inside of her when that happened. He didn’t often use his strength on her, but at that moment he did. He grabbed her underneath her arms and pulled her off him. His cock fell out of her mouth and he dropped her butt back down on the table. He pushed her back, onto the plate of pizza. She laughed and reached back and knocked it out of her way. Jace stood up and she spread her legs so he could stand in between them. He took his cock in his hand and pressed it into her opening. He felt her open up for him and he pushed forward...filling her up and holding himself there, wishing he could stay there forever. There was no place on earth he would rather be than right there inside of his baby...a part of her, for eternity.
Jace made love to his old lady on the dining room table and when they were both satiated and exhausted, he picked her up and carried her to bed. Dinner was forgotten as they held each other, skin to skin and heart to heart...and for at least the next six hours, the rest of the world didn’t exist.
19
After Jessie fell on her face into the hallway and thanked whoever built the house for the carpeting, she began to drag her body toward the front of the house. She had to scoot on her side for a while and then turn and scoot on her forearms and use her chin to push herself along. The rug began to rub burns into her skin and by the time she reached the living room she was wishing for wood floors once again. Thankfully, the house was small, at least. To her right was a couch and chair and a set of curtains that looked like they might be covering a set of glass doors. To her left was what looked like the front door. Directly in front of her was a kitchen, separated from the living room by an island. She lay there for several seconds trying to decide what the best, fastest, and safest course of action might be. She could drag herself into the kitchen, but would she be able to pull herself up and find a knife? Did this weirdo even have a knife? She looked back over at the curtains. The house was old and if that was glass behind those curtains it was possible that it wouldn’t be anything double pane or fancy. It was at least closer to her than the kitchen.
She rolled until she hit the back of the couch and then she had to use her now bleeding, painful chin and forehead to move her body toward the curtains. When she made it there, she rolled onto her back again and with every ounce of strength she had left in her body, she raised up her legs and kicked them out. She heard a crack and she screamed in pain as soon as her feet connected with the glass behind the curtain. With tears streaming down her face, she gathered her strength again, pulled her legs up as high as she possibly could, and kicked it again. This time, it shattered and she was showered with sharp shards of glass. She closed her eyes tightly but she could feel the tiny pieces of glass embedding themselves into her skin like needles, even in her eyelids. The pain...the agony...almost stopped her, but then she felt something wonderful...it was wind, a breeze. It touched her burning skin and made it burn worse, but it was still a beautiful thing. Carefully, she opened her eyes. She was smiling, at least inside...until she was able to push herself up enough to look out through the broken glass and see what looked like miles of nothing but desert.
* * *
“You can’t sit in with him this time,” Detective Tyler said to Jace as he tried to step into the interview room they’d just led Finn into. “You do know he’s not your kid, right?”
Jace narrowed his eyes at the detective. He knew the man was only doing his job but between his dug-up property and being woken up at 6 a.m. and told that they’d taken Finn back down to the station, he’d about had his fill. “That’s fine,” Jace said. “But make sure no one asks him anything until his attorney gets here.” Jace had called the attorney that Wolf’s attorney had referred them to, a sharp-looking, quick-witted young guy named Riley who looked like he was born in a three-piece suit, as soon as he heard Finn was being hauled back in. Tyler showed up on Finn’s doorstep at the crack of dawn. Apparently, a team of behavioral scientists from Quantico had been brought in on the case and they wanted to talk to Finn ASAP.
“We know how to do this,” Detective Tyler told him. “It’s not our first rodeo.”
Jace glanced in the room once more at Finn. His face was as white as a sheet and the kid looked like he could use a stiff drink and a cigarette. Jace knew Finn was innocent and he was sure the investigation would eventually prove that. The biggest problem with Finn’s being under FBI scrutiny was the fact that he was living a lie. His name and all of his papers belonged to a dead man...and if that came out, Finn wouldn’t be the only one in trouble.
Jace turned and let the detective close the door. He headed out the first exit and took out his cigarettes. He’d just lit one up when he heard the sounds of two bikes. He knew Harley engines well, and he could hear the difference between the Harley and the Indian, so he wasn’t surprised when he saw Rock turn into the parking lot, closely followed by his son. The two men parked their bikes and Rock got off his first. Tommy looked reluctant to climb off his, but he did and when he pulled off his helmet Jace could see the young man’s face looked like hell. He had dark circles underneath his eyes and his hair hung limp and greasy around his face. His skin had a sallow, almost gray look to it.
“Jace,” Rock said as he approached him. “Did they call you down here too?”
Jace wondered why Tommy was “called down” and Finn was brought in. “Not me,” he said. “Finn.” That got Tommy’s attention. He pulled his head up and looked at Jace.
“Why?”
Jace didn’t answer him, instead he looked at Rock. Rock was the one that turned to his son and said, “Finn was the last one to see her, at least as far as the police can tell.”
“How is that possible...? Fuck!”
“Let it go, Tommy,” Rock said. “We need to focus on getting you through this interview first. If you go in there angry from the start, it won’t help you at all.” Tommy looked like the knowledge that Finn and Jessie had been together was about to tear him apart inside. Jace felt for him, but Rock was right, who got the girl was not what either of them needed to focus on. Tommy didn’t say anything else, but Jace would be willing to bet that “letting it go” was not in the forefront of his mind.
“Finn’s in there now and Detective Tyler is with him, and the FBI agent, but Finn’s attorney hasn’t arrived yet so it might be a while. If you don’t mind me asking, shouldn’t Tommy have an attorney?”
“I do,” Tommy said. “My dad.”
Shocked, Jace looked at Rock. The older man shrugged and said, “The MC put me through law school when I was in my thirties. I’ve never had a law practice, but I’ve represented a lot of bikers over the years. I retired my law degree when I retired from the club...but Tommy wants me here, so here I am.”
“Well, I’ll be damned, Rock, you’re full of surprises aren’t you?”
Rock’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “You’ve barely scratched the surface, Jace. Let’s go check in, Tommy. If it’s going to be a while maybe they’ll let me take you to get something to eat. You look like you could use it.”
“I’m not hungry,” Tommy said, sliding past his father and Jace and pulling open the side door that Jace had just come out of. Rock looked after his son with a worried look in his eyes.
“He looked for her all day yesterday and most of the night. I don’t think he slept at all and I’m sure he hasn’t eaten.”
“Where did he look?”
“He talked to all of her neighbors and tried to find someone who may have seen something. I told him I was sure the police had already done that but he just felt like he had to do something. Then he went to the Highway Club and talked to everyone there. I stopped him before he drove all the way to Tucson.”
“What’s in Tucson?”
“It’s where she’s from. I guess her mother is an addict, and when Jessie first started
working at a little truck stop there she had some trouble with a gang that came collecting money her mother owed them. Jessie moved here to get away from her mother and her problems. Tommy just wanted to exhaust every possibility. It took some doing but his mother and I convinced him it would be better for him to tell the police what he knows and let them handle it. The last thing he needs is to charge in and piss off a street gang.”
Jace was nodding. “I agree. That’s good information, though; maybe Jessie’s disappearance doesn’t have anything to do with the killer at all.”
“I’m not sure which scenario would be better,” Rock said. “I’d better get inside and make sure Tommy is minding his manners in there.” Jace saw a bright red Chrysler 300 drive into the lot.
“It looks like Finn’s lawyer is here to make sure he minds his.” Rock looked over his shoulder as Riley stepped out of his brand-new car in what looked like a two-thousand-dollar suit. He smiled at Jace and said:
“Defending my club never paid that good.”
* * *
Small, loose stones littered the floor that Jessie lay on. She didn’t understand the pain when she woke up, or the cold. Her body felt like it had been put through a meat grinder, and then frozen. She opened her eyes but that did nothing for her vision. The blackness around her seemed to engulf and almost drown her. She closed her eyes again and slowly and carefully went over in her head what had happened and how she’d ended up on the floor of a cave.
After she kicked open the glass door she used one of the large, jagged pieces to cut the tape off her wrists. Several deep cuts and almost an hour later, her hands were free. They were almost as worthless as they’d been taped up, and it took her almost as long to release the tape on her ankles. Once she had her feet loose, she had to wait for the circulation to come back and the tingling to stop. All in all, it was probably the slowest escape in the history of the world. Thank God her captor didn’t return in the midst of it.
She had stumbled to her feet and somehow before leaving the house she had the forethought to go in search of a bottle of water to take with her out into the desert. There was nothing in the fridge nor were there glasses or any dishes in the cabinets. It was the garage where she found a case of water and a giant box of granola bars. Her kidnapper bought in bulk at Costco and for that, she was grateful. She’d found a canvas bag in the garage and stuffed it with waters and granola bars. It was almost too heavy for her to carry by the time she convinced herself she had enough. Once that was done, she set off into the desert. It wasn’t until the sun went down that she wished she’d looked for a blanket, or jacket, or even a lighter. She wasn’t about to go back, though, and she walked until she was close to passing out before she finally saw the little cave.
The entrance was so small that it was a miracle she’d even seen it in the fading light. The rocks were jagged and uneven, but it was definitely an opening and it was big enough to accommodate her. The thought of what might be in the dark cave almost kept her from going in, but the thought of sleeping outside with whatever was out there won the contest for most dangerous and creepy, so she’d gotten on her hands and knees and used her damaged, bleeding hands to feel along the damp walls until she felt like she was deep enough inside that nothing could reach in and grab her in her sleep. Once she was immersed in the dark, she drank down a bottle of water, ate one of the granola bars and lay down on the hard, sharp rocks. She hurt so badly already, she hardly noticed a difference, and she was so tired that it was only a matter of minutes before she was lost in dreamland. Her dreams were good ones, filled with hope and the possibility of a future...and that was why she was so confused when she woke up the way that she did.
Jessie opened her eyes again and, wincing and groaning in pain, she pulled herself up to a sitting position, drank another bottle of water, and crawled toward the entrance of the cave. She could see the dim light of dawn as she reached the opening and when she crawled out she could see what was stuck to the front of her filthy, bloodstained shirt. Any other time it might have elicited a scream or something like it. An orange and black scorpion hung by one claw and seemed to be looking up at her. She didn’t know if it was dead or alive, but she wasn’t sure if she was either. She brushed it off, slung the heavy bag over her shoulder, and started out in the direction of the sun. All Navajo dwellings were built with the door facing east so that the home was blessed with the first rays of the sun on the dawn of each new day. Jessie’s internal map wasn’t that great and that little tidbit was the sum of what she knew about her culture...but it was a plan and that was all she had at the moment.
20
“Jesus, what the fuck did I walk into?” Streak was loading stuff out of the garage and into the moving truck. They were moving their entire operation to a building that Wolf had rented them in the city, and it sucked. Most of the equipment was heavy as hell and Streak’s back was already killing him. Finn had gotten dragged off to the police station that morning and Jace had gone with him. Punk was a big help and Bubba was too...but he wouldn’t fucking shut up, and Streak’s head felt like it might explode. He looked up now at the sound of the voice and his face broke out into a smile.
“Well, fuck me.”
“You’d like it too much.” It was Vic, one of his shipmates on the deployment he’d been on with Beck. Beck hadn’t told him Vic was coming, but he was damned glad to see him. “I’ll give you a hug, though, just one for free.” Streak and Vic shared a quick man hug and then Streak said:
“Are you lost or...?”
Vic laughed. He was from New York, the Upper East Side. He’d gotten teased on the ship about how fussy he was about his clothes and wardrobe, and Streak had been shocked when he found out the guy even owned a Harley, much less rode one. He’d even ridden with a club for a while before he quit that and joined the Navy. Streak never got the full story on that, but he’d love to someday. “Beck and I still keep in touch. I was on my way out to California and she told me I should stop by and say hello. So, what the hell is going on...you guys decide to become treasure hunters or...?”
Streak made a face and said, “I wish they were looking for treasure. Unfortunately they’re looking for bodies.”
“Bodies? What the fuck?”
“Long story, but while we were building, they found a couple dead girls. Some other weird shit has been going on and now the FBI is here...big, fucking mess.”
Vic chuckled and said, “Not much into recruiting speeches, are you?”
“Hey, you know me, I tell it like it is. You thinking of joining up?”
“I was,” he said, looking around again at the mess of crime scene tape and torn-up dirt and plants. “But I don’t know about all this. What’s the president like, Beck’s old man?”
“Jace is cool, one of my new favorite people, actually. He’s going to be a great boss, I think, as soon as we get through all this shit.”
“What the hell is this now?” Vic said, looking toward a Harley that had turned off the main road and was coming toward them. It was raising dust too hard for Streak to see, but the guy seemed to be hauling a little trailer behind him. When he drove up and stopped the bike, Streak could see that he was indeed dragging a trailer and it was stacked with boxes. He turned off his bike and before he took off his helmet, he reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a soft, white cloth. He bent down and started wiping his boot with it. Streak and Vic looked at each other and Vic raised an eyebrow. When they looked back at the guy with the trailer, the boot on their side was so shiny it almost blinded them...and he was wiping down the other one. They were black cowboy boots and from the looks of them, good quality leather.
Once he finished wiping down his kicks, he pulled off his helmet. The guy had light brown hair and it was just long enough to touch his collar in back. When he pulled off his bandanna and his sunglasses Streak thought he looked like one of those guys they used to model motorcycles...the kind that looked like he’d never been on a bike in his life.
“Jace
or Beck here?”
“No,” Streak told the man. “Beck probably won’t be back until this evening. Jace should be back soon, I hope. Who are you?”
“They call me Boots,” the man said. Streak bit back a smile. If that wasn’t an obvious moniker, he’d never heard one. “Wolf sent me. He said Jace needs a treasurer.”
“Really?” Streak didn’t know Jace was already handing out titles. Not that he wanted anything to do with the money side of the club. Streak had grown up in an upper middle-class family who spent most of their time and money trying to keep up with the Joneses. He hated that, and he hated the pretentiousness that went hand in hand with wealth. When he joined the Navy he’d told his parents that he planned on doing life on his own. He didn’t want them paying for anything once he was grown. Of course, the Navy was more about getting away from Taylor than it was about making money. As it turned out, he made a decent living, but Taylor still wasn’t out of his system. As far as the club went, though, he was hoping for SA or Enforcer. He just figured Jace had too much on his plate to start holding church and elections just yet.
“Really,” Boots said.
Rise of the Phoenix: Phoenix Skulls Motorcycle Club: (Phoenix Skulls MC Romance Book 1) Page 14