by K. L. Savage
“I think it’s the best plan too, but you wouldn’t be alone. We’d just give you a head start. He won’t hear of it. Listen, I’m not about putting a woman in danger. We’d protect you.”
“I know that,” I say, softening the expression on my face. “You don’t think I know he will find me? Whistler is going to lose his mind when he knows I’m gone.”
“When we are gone,” Bolt corrects, draining his beer and slamming it down on the bar. He peers over his shoulder to see his brothers arguing, their voices rising again. “If we leave now, they won’t know.”
“You’re coming with me?” I chirp sounding more like Luke Skyhawker than myself.
“I’m the only one that agrees with you. And besides, do you even know how to drive a motorcycle?” he quirks a thick brow at me, judging me.
“Yes,” I scoff, crossing my arms in defiance. I’ve seen Whistler do it enough. I can figure it out but I’m not about to look weak in front of a man.
“That right?”
“Yep,” I say, popping the P.
“Well, let’s see how you ride then, Ms. Charlie.”
I take a peek at Whistler who is in One’s face now, his best friend. I can’t let any other relationships he has get ruined because of me. If he’d just let me be the plan, everything would be taken care of. “Let’s go,” I state, dragging my eyes away from Whistler. If I look at him for much longer, I’ll lose my nerve and stay, which isn’t the right thing to do.
My dad is next door with his crew, drilling, hammering, and building without a clue in the world as to what is going on because while I’ve told him about Kenneth abusing me, I haven’t told him everything else that’s going on. He doesn’t know two of his crew members were murdered because of me.
The less my father knows, the better.
Bolt hides me by staying to the side and keeping me close to him, using his body to block anyone else from seeing me. Everyone is too into arguing and hearing themselves over the others to watch me.
I’m timid little Charlie. I’m always too scared to do anything.
Well, fear be damned. I’m doing something even if it means risking everything. Bolt runs to his bike and Whistler’s is right next to his. They look similar, only Bolt’s is matte black with a shiny black exhaust system while Whistler’s is more classic. Black tank, chrome everything, polished as if he just got it off the lot.
Okay. Please, let it start so I don’t look like a fool and please, don’t let me crash it.
Bolt starts his and throws his helmet on all while waiting for me to get my shit together. I’m sitting here, staring, afraid, nervous, and I feel like I’m going behind Whistler’s back.
God. I am fucked up in the head.
What woman would willingly lie to a man as wonderful as Whistler?
“Hey, we don’t have long before Whistler notices you’re gone and starts raising fucking hell, so we need to get going, Charlie.”
Right.
With shaking hands, I try to be confident as I start the bike. I throw the helmet on next, not bothering to clip it.
“I’ll hang back, but it’s all you, Charlie. You lead. I’ll follow.”
I nod and begin to back out, keeping my feet on the gravel as I ease it out of the spot. I’m doing it! Thank God. Now, I just have to get to the Hoover Dam.
I slam on the throttle and speed out of the parking lot with Bolt right behind me, putting Mercy’s bar behind me. The sun reflects off the side mirror and I don’t see anyone coming out of the clubhouse just yet. If I’m lucky, I’ll get ten minutes on them.
Ten minutes is all I need.
The sun is hot, burning down on my shoulders and the wind reminds me of my sunglasses folded in the middle of my tank top. With one hand, I flip them out and slip them on, lips protecting me from the wind and bugs.
To my right, Bolt chuckles but he seems impressed that I’m able to ride.
Even if I lied.
The ride to the Hoover Dam is short and the closer we get, the more flashes I have of coming here. I was high on that damn pill. It’s why I can’t remember fully, but I’ve been here before. The mountains are red and rocky, but between them is a road creating the Dam.
Another flashback hits me, and I remember driving over the bridge and pulling off to the side of the road. Bolt hangs back, losing speed until he is stopped on the shoulder and taking pictures, pretending he is a tourist.
Yeah, that won’t work with the cut on. He seems to have forgotten that minor detail.
My fists tighten and the bike jolts forward as I accidentally push on the throttle. I glance to the left at the body of blue water, my lost focus causing the bike to sway. Jerking my head so my eyes are on the road, I panic and overcorrect.
The heavy metal wins.
I slam on the brakes and the back tire fishtails in a half−circle, burnt rubber filling my nostrils and smoke clouding my line of sight. I cringe as Whistler’s bike scrapes against the road and when my leg hits the pavement. I let go of the handlebars and tumble, rolling away from the motorcycle.
Damn it!
I hold my arm when it begins to sting, and my jeans are torn and rubbed raw from the road. My vision swims for a second, and I can hear another bike grumbling. I know it’s Bolt.
“Charlie!” He rushes off his bike and drops to my side. “Jesus, Whistler is going to beat me with his bat when he takes one look at you. I thought you could drive.”
“I did drive,” I grumble, tasting iron in my mouth. “It got the best of me.” I lift my eyes from the road rash on my hand, witnessing Whistler’s bike continuing to spark against the road until it comes to a complete stop. “He’s going to kill me,” I mumble.
“He isn’t going to give a fuck about that bike. Are you insane? He’s going to kill me for bringing you here, but that bike is just a thing. It can be replaced. You can’t be.”
“Aw, isn’t this sweet?” Kenneth’s voice has the hairs on the back of my neck standing up and I crawl closer to Bolt who shields me from my ex…whatever the hell he is. “You’ve come, alone. That’s interesting, Charlie. Did you miss me that much?”
“She isn’t alone,” Bolt says, whipping out a long black nightstick like the kind cops use, but when he presses a button, blue lightning buzzes up the weapon. “Come here, mother fucker.”
“That’s so cute.” Kenneth claps his hands as if he is staring at a dog. “But it’s going to take more than that to stop me from taking her, you, and making you watch as I finish off Whistler’s sister. When I’m done with her, maybe I’ll start on you,” he says to Bolt.
Oh, we are so fucking stupid coming here alone.
Kenneth lifts his hand and signals someone. A soft puff rips through the air. Bolt grunts and falls to his knees, staring down at the tranquilizer in the middle of his chest. He sways and I crawl around him.
Bolt rips the small dart from his chest and throws it on the ground. There’s a green tip along with a vile that has a small Scapegoat logo.
Bolt doesn’t stand a chance.
He grins and takes my hand. “They’re on their way. We did exactly what we wanted,” he begins to slur.
“What’s that?” I pinch back the tears in my eyes as his eyes begin to close. I know he is just going to sleep but being on my own with Kenneth scares the hell out of me.
“The element of surprise isn’t gone. He won’t expect anyone else now,” Bolt manages to sigh his last words before falling asleep.
“No. Bolt! Wake up,” I whisper, shaking his chest. That tiny fucking dart can’t take down a man like him. “Wake up. Please,” I beg.
“I think I’m going to cry.” Kenneth pretends to sniffle and the sound of his expensive loafers clicks against the road.
The sparking nightstick is only a few feet away. If only I could—
I lunge for it, but Kenneth’s foot is faster and presses against my neck, pinning me to the ground. “I always knew you were a stupid bitch, Charlie. Always wanting to save the day when you ca
n’t even save yourself. So sickly sweet.” He bends down and backhands me, picking me up by my throat with his hand and squeezing tight. “You’re also a whore,” he says, grabbing my waist and rubbing his cock against my thigh. “How many of them have you fucked since you’ve been out of my sight? I thought just the one, but now you bring him here and I have to wonder. Do you like men taking their turn?” He spins me around and pushes me against the concrete wall, shoving my head over until all I can see is the water below. “What if I fucked you here? Showed you how much you’re mine, then had some of my men take their turn. After you’re ruined, maybe I’d dump your body here. But then again,” he drags a hand down my back, “I’m too obsessed with you to give you up.”
I stomp against his foot and ram my elbow into his gut and run.
I run as hard and as fast as I can, but he has always been quicker than me. He reaches out and the boney digits of his fingers curl into my shirt and yank, ripping it.
“Come here, you fucking cunt,” he snarls, getting closer.
My leg is killing me, and I pump my arms, staring down the empty road. The sound of a gunshot rings out and I duck my head, turning my head to the right when the bullet hits the rock.
I see a door built into the mountain up ahead. I bet that’s where Kenneth’s headquarters are. If I can get there and get to Taylor, find her somehow and get her free, she can go home.
I’ll be able to get free eventually because after experiencing real love, after experiencing what good really is, there is no way in hell I’ll ever stop fighting again. I’ll always do my best to get back to Whistler.
Thunder rolls above us as a storm moves in, the clouds large and rolling over one another. Rain begins to spatter along the top of my head. I don’t know if it is wishful thinking or more thunder, but I swear I hear bikes in the distance.
I’m tackled from behind and my chin smacks against the road, clanking my teeth together. I struggle and dig my fingers into the road. Why do I notice it isn’t smooth and black but rough with chunks of rocks and pebbles? My nails break as I claw for freedom. The rain bullets down, exploding against the road, needling against my skin in an angry pinch. My hair becomes soaked, and I scream when a knife is at my throat and I’m flipped to my back.
“You better fucking stop struggling or I swear to God, I’ll hit you until you’re dead and cut that pretty face off.”
I’m freezing from the rain, shaking either from cold or fear, I can’t tell.
I wonder if this is what death feels like.
“Get up.” He yanks me by my hair, and I get to my feet, letting him lead me toward the door.
I turn to check on Bolt, but he isn’t there. I blink a few times and rub my eyes to make sure, but he really isn’t there.
Oh God, let him be okay.
The door creaks open and he shoves me inside which has me rolling down the metal staircase. My breath is knocked out of me when my back hits the wall.
Darkness is cruel. It engulfs me just as quickly as the happiness I found with Whistler. This time, I don’t know if there is a way out. Evil has me.
And if I’ve learned anything, there’s never more than one way out.
Either face it head-on.
Or die.
I’ve toed the line too long to keep doing both.
The fact that I have to sit on the back of One’s bike and hold onto his waist while we drive to the Hoover Dam makes me more than irate.
My Cupcake, who is usually very sweet, stole my mother fucking bike. She’s being a complete fruitcake right now. I mean that in the sense that fruitcakes are disgusting. I do not like them.
And because her little plan excluded me and included fucking Bolt out of all people, I have to sit here hugging One.
While the situation is serious— I’m worried and afraid for her— the guys haven’t missed the opportunity to take pictures and videos. One is eating it up. He smiles and leans into my frowning face. It isn’t about them having fun, it’s about them trying to make me feel better.
Because I’m worried sick. I’m afraid. It isn’t often I’m afraid, but I can’t feel anything else but fear right now. I am thinking of the unimaginable.
Enemies are bloodthirsty, but nothing, I mean nothing is more brutal than the words and images in one’s mind.
I’m thinking about her beaten to a pulp, naked, taken advantage of, barely breathing, and her trying to say my name but her mouth is too swollen to speak from being punched. And then I’m thinking of my sister on the floor being dragged, screaming, crying, hearing the punching of flesh upon flesh, and I know no matter when I get there, the damage to her has been done.
It could have been avoided if I was a better brother. I should have been stricter. I should have put my foot down instead of listening to her apologies because all I wanted was for her to experience happiness.
Then there is Charlie, my timid, sweet, beautiful, strong, loyal, and fierce Cupcake. She’s a fighter. She doesn’t think she is. She thinks she’s weak and fragile but really, she’s just needed someone to bring her out of the dark.
Charlie wants to solve this problem on her own because she thinks it’s up to her, but it isn’t. She gathered the courage to face her greatest fear anyway, and I can’t be more proud of her.
But I’m also fucking pissed because protecting her is my job now.
And don’t get me started on Bolt. I’m going to kick his fucking ass when I see him for supporting her trying to do this on her own. He didn’t agree with me and he guided her out the door right under my nose.
I should have just skipped off into the fucking sunset by myself and handled Kenneth on my own. Instead, we dragged our asses and now look at the consequences.
Rain pours souring my mood further. Moose holds his fist up in the air as he rides next to Mercy, and we all slow to a stop since he is the Road Captain and that’s his way of telling us when to stop.
A red laser hits my shoulder and I follow it, noticing a sniper somewhere on the mountain. “Get down!” I shout, pulling One off his bike with me. We hit the ground together as a shot rings out. I glance around, jerking my head back and forth to make sure no one was hit. The rain drips into my mouth, and I swallow as I take in a breath. “Anyone hit? Is everyone okay?”
“I got nicked,” Driller grunts, holding the side of his arm.
“You’re the fucking doctor!” I stay low to the ground and crawl to him to make sure he’s okay. I take his hand away and let out a breath when I see it’s just a scratch. “Oh, you’re fine. That’s good.”
“No shit. I’m the doctor, remember? That’s what I said,” he teases, but the joke falls short as he narrows his eyes ahead of us and we all stare in that direction too. “I hate to say it, but I think we’re here.”
And I have no idea where to go.
I.E.D. hands Birdie a small device, something grey, but I can’t tell exactly what it is through the rain. Birdie lifts his arm and Skyhawker caws before spreading his massive wings and launching toward the sky. I watch him until I can’t see him, and Birdie leans back and grins, then lifts up five fingers.
Four. Three. Two.
Like a rock falling from the sky, the hawk spears through gravity after he finds his target and releases whatever he had in his talons before opening his wings and gliding away just as fast.
I.E.D presses a button on his watch and the side of the mountain explodes. It’s a small explosion, nothing too catastrophic, but enough to kill any snipers or anyone near that mountain as rocks fall into the body of water to the left. One and I brush ourselves off and climb back on his bike.
Birdie holds out his arm and I dip my head down to dodge the long talons nearly touching the top of my head as the bird lands on his owner’s shoulder. Birdie digs into his pocket and tosses up a raw piece of meat and the curved beak catches it and swallows it whole.
I bet Skyhawker could take a finger off.
Moose signals for us to move forward again and we take a slight turn, but wh
at I see has me jumping off One’s bike.
My Harley is on its side down the road and Bolt’s is upright, but where is Bolt? I sprint forward, passing Mercy and ignoring his protests. The only person I’m listening to is myself. I don’t see a thing. I can’t hear anything over the rain. I lace my fingers behind my head and spin around, feeling fucking lost.
“Did you not find anything when you surveyed?” I ask Prez.
“There’s a door on the other side of the bridge. I’m assuming that’s what we need to get to,” he says.
“You’re going to need…” Bolt stumbles from behind a rock. “You’re going…” he tries again, and I run to him, Mercy hot on my heels. I catch Bolt before he can fall, and Mercy throws Bolt’s arm over his shoulder to take the remaining weight.
“Holy shit, Bolt. What happened?”
“Tranquilizer. Scapegoat. Shit sucks. No wonder…” he sounds drunk as he drags his feet while we get him to the nearest bike. “No wonder O’Crowely didn’t want it.”
“Tried to protect her, but he doesn’t expect to see you now. Kenneth thinks Charlie is a whore since she came with me. She wrecked your bike. I tried…” he guzzles a bottle of water Mercy pulled from his saddlebag. “I tried to protect her, but someone shot me with a tranq. Kenneth has her. I dragged myself to that rock after I passed out for a few minutes. They must have expected to tranq Charlie. The dosage only made me loopy. I’m still…” he tries to take another drink of water but misses his mouth and it spills down his shirt. “Damn it. I’m wet,” he slurs.
“It’s raining. It doesn’t matter,” I say and he nods in agreement. A few guys chuckle because he’s so out of it.
“Need to go in gun’s blazing. He’s prepared, but I can’t,” Bolt sits on Moose’s bike. “I can’t think.” He presses his hand against his forehead. “Fuck, that shit gives you a killer headache.”
“Anvil, take Bolt back to the clubhouse and keep an eye on him,” Mercy orders. “If we aren’t back in two hours, reach out to Reaper and get his guys to help us. Okay?”