by Dana Mentink
He ducked under a dripping branch and held it for Shannon to go by. She nodded a thanks to him. Lady’s ears pricked again, and he felt her tense beneath him. Three seconds later, he understood. The sound of a motorcycle cut through the rainfall.
He wheeled Lady into a sharp turn.
“This way,” he shouted to Shannon. She stiffened and then urged Prince to follow. He was confident that Prince would stick close to Lady, and he hoped Shannon’s skills would be up to the task as they moved down a steep slope, branches clawing at them.
The ground was slippery, but he let Lady pick the path that provided the best footing. They moved quickly, but certainly not quietly. There was no way to move a two-thousand-pound animal through dense foliage without making some noise. He prayed the falling rain would be enough to mask their progress.
When they’d gotten to a dense pocket of trees, he stopped. Prince hunkered up close to Lady’s side.
“Are they following?” Shannon breathed. Her skin was pale in the watery moonlight.
He was about to answer, when an engine rumbled to their left. The biker had left the trail and was coming after them.
Urging Lady into motion, he headed for the thickest clump of shrubbery he could spot. It was a hundred feet away, so dense, it rose nearly ten feet high. Lady took the ground easily, but Prince was more cautious. He urged both horses along with his words, as best he could, but Prince had stopped, ears back, balancing uneasily from foot to foot.
He turned Lady and came alongside Shannon, taking the reins from her hand. “Just hold on. I’ll lead him.”
Foot by foot, with the sound of the motorcycle growing ever closer, he guided Prince into the foliage. They’d just passed through the clawing wet screen when the motorcyclist rumbled to the spot they’d just vacated.
Jack slid off Lady and helped Shannon down. He handed Lady’s reins to Shannon and took hold of Prince’s bridle, stroking the horse. “It’s okay, boy,” he whispered.
Shannon gripped the reins and peered through the branches. “It’s Viper,” she breathed.
“Cruiser probably sent him up the back way. Guy’s smarter than he looks.”
Viper cut the motor and got off his bike. He stood there. Listening.
One whinny or snort from the horses would give them away.
Rain snaked down the back of his windbreaker, his mind searching for options. If Viper discovered them, they’d have to flee, but with Prince so skittish... He decided if things went south, he’d force Shannon onto Lady with him and cut Prince loose. Prince would run off his panic, find a place to hide. At least Jack prayed that was what the horse would do. What other option was there?
He was still mulling it over, when Viper pulled a gun from his holster and fired.
FIFTEEN
Viper’s straight-up-into-the-air shot was meant to frighten them into betraying their location. It worked. Though Shannon was able to contain her own scream, Prince whinnied in fright, bucking against Jack’s restraining hand. Prince’s startled reaction carried easily on the night air.
Viper smiled and turned in their direction, the gun still in his hand.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
She kept silent, though every nerve shrilled. Jack gave Shannon the reins, eased to his horse and freed his rifle, putting his mouth to her ear.
“Ride Lady out of here as soon as Viper’s distracted.”
He put a hand to the branches.
“Don’t show yourself,” she whispered, grabbing for his sleeve.
Jack looked at her as if she was speaking another language. “Not gonna shoot a man unawares.”
She wanted to shake the crazy noble streak clean out of him. “Jack, be reasonable. Viper wouldn’t hesitate to shoot you in the back.”
Jack quirked a smile. “Guess that’s why I’m a cowboy and not a biker.”
“Don’t...”
But he’d already stepped through the branches and into the misty hollow.
Shannon gaped. Of course, that was exactly what Jack would do, the big dope. He wouldn’t even consider wounding Viper just the tiniest bit from a place of concealment. No, this was going to be another John Wayne moment. Shannon frantically tried to think of something to use as a weapon. She went to Lady’s saddlebag and began to paw through it.
Shannon kept one eye on the action. As Jack cleared the foliage, Viper whirled to face the gun at him.
“Throw down your rifle,” Viper said.
“Nope,” Jack replied.
“Then I’ll start shooting into these bushes. Gonna kill me a woman and some horses, I figure.”
“You’ll be dead before you get off a shot.”
Shannon continued to plunder the neatly packed saddlebag.
Viper laughed again, but there was something uncertain in it now. “You ain’t that fast, Cowboy.”
“Possibly not, but my brothers are.”
Viper’s eyes shifted to the tree line, the crag of rocks, the nearby ravine. “You’re bluffing.”
“Maybe. Then again, maybe my brothers are out here, right now, with a bead on you. We know these mountains better than anyone.” Jack smiled. “And we know how to shoot, but then, you already learned that when you showed up at the ranch. You met my brothers then, didn’t you? And at the airstrip? Pretty good marksmen, all of them.”
Shannon pulled a flashlight from the bag. Shielding it, she pressed the button. It worked, and it had some heft to it.
Viper’s finger tensed on the trigger. “I think you’re bluffing.”
Jack smiled again. “Then take your shot, and I’ll take mine.”
“Okay,” Viper said. “If that’s the way it’s gonna be.”
Through clenched teeth, Shannon mumbled something—a prayer, she realized—before she turned on the flashlight and launched it. It wasn’t a particularly forceful throw, thanks to her shaky grip, but the arc of light sailed through the air and dropped at Viper’s feet, startling him into lowering his gun. Jack seized the moment and lunged in, his rifle inches from Viper’s chest.
“Bring the rope,” he called to Shannon.
Shannon did so, and Jack took Viper’s gun and tied him to a sturdy oak tree.
Viper seethed. “You’re gonna die, Cowboy.”
Jack jacked up the kickstand on Viper’s bike. Viper’s eyes went wide.
“What are you doing? Don’t touch that.”
Jack rolled the bike down the slope, until he paused at the edge of the ravine. Then, with a mighty shove, he pushed the motorcycle over. It crashed down onto the rocks below.
Viper unleashed a string of profanity, his face twisted in rage. Shannon used a strip of tape from the roll she’d found in the saddlebag to seal Viper’s mouth.
“That’s better,” she said. “You’re making my headache worse.”
Jack was shaking his head. “So, what part of ‘ride Lady out of here’ did you not understand?”
“Oh, I understood it all. I just chose not to do what you said.”
“May I ask why?” he inquired.
“You didn’t say ‘please.’”
He blinked.
She did not wait for a reply, but marched back into the foliage, where she’d tied both horses’ reins loosely around a branch. More awkwardly than she would have liked, she put a foot in one of the stirrups and climbed up on Prince, before Jack could offer her a hand.
He stood for a long moment, staring at her. Angry? Incredulous? Perhaps the tiniest bit appreciative that her initiative had spared them any grievous injury? She’d never know as he eased onto Lady and urged her back out onto the trail. Prince fell in behind, and they hurried down the mountain.
* * *
Lady and Prince were easily convinced to keep a brisk pace when they reached the bottom, and it was another fifteen minutes before th
ey pulled up at the ranch. Jack led them to the pasture, where he unsaddled them and administered a hurried rubdown and a bucket of feed apiece.
“Good work out there, Lady.” He gave Prince an extra pat. “And you, too, boy.”
He and Shannon hustled back to the house, and his mom met them at the door. “Larraby’s on his way to the Nugget.”
“Annabell...” Shannon said.
“She’s fine. Asleep.” She turned to Jack. “Keegan and Barrett left for the inn ten minutes ago.”
Jack’s breath hitched. His brothers were charging into the fray. They were competent and afraid of nothing, but the Tides had an army behind them who didn’t play fair. An army, minus one, he thought, as he pictured Viper tied up to a tree. He’d get around to reporting it to the police when he had a minute. One less gun in the battle, he figured.
“I have to go,” Shannon said.
Jack noted the tremble in her voice and didn’t try to dissuade her. Instead, he grabbed the keys to the SUV, and they sprinted to the vehicle. He dialed Keegan’s number on the way, and his brother’s voice came through the car speaker. Jack heaved out a silent breath as they merged onto the main road.
“Pulling up now,” Keegan said. “No sign of Larraby. Looks quiet.”
He accelerated. “We’ll be there in—”
The sound of breaking glass drowned out Jack’s words.
“Keegan,” Jack shouted.
“Tides just rolled in,” Keegan hollered over the din. “They’re smashing up the place.”
Sirens blared over the line. “Cops are here. Gotta go.”
“Don’t get in between—” Jack got only a few words out before the connection was ended. Shannon squeezed his forearm in a death grip as he floored the gas pedal. In less than ten minutes, they were skidding into the parking lot, just behind Keegan and Barrett, who got out of their car. Keeping low, they raced to Jack’s vehicle. Jack was more than relieved to see them both unharmed. He noted the three motorcycles, which had been toppled, their leather seats slashed.
“Cops ordered us back,” Barrett said. “Tides figured out the Aces were here somehow and trashed their bikes.”
“Someone tipped them off?” Jack said.
“Looks that way,” Barrett said. “No sign of Dina.”
Jack heard the passenger door open, and before he could shoot out a hand to restrain her, Shannon was out of the car and running for the inn.
“Shannon,” he yelled, but she did not even slow. He sprinted after her. A squad car was parked near the inn’s front steps, lights whirling. A window exploded, and he realized the shots had come from the new unit, where the Aces were staying. Return fire erupted from behind a patio wall. He caught a glimpse of one of Cruiser’s men ducking down behind the bricks. They must have turned immediately around when they found the fishing lodge unoccupied.
A flash of movement to his left. Tiffany ran toward the trees for cover. He remembered her earlier warning.
Your business brought the Tide onto our turf. That’s gonna start a war with the Aces... Pinball’s not gonna back down without blood.
But Dina was Pinball’s sister. If she was here, waiting to make contact with her brother, would he really risk a shoot-out that might kill her and her baby? Yes, he thought grimly. His insane need to defend his territory from the Tides would trump everything, especially if he had no intention of forgiving his sister in the first place for joining up with his enemies. Gang ties trumped blood kin any day of the week.
Jack spotted Shannon, who was crouched low and sprinting toward the front door, and he took off after her. He got as far as the lobby, when someone hooked an ankle around his and toppled him to the floor. Fists up, he was about to defend himself properly, when he recognized Larraby, forehead sweaty and mouth bracketed in hard lines.
Larraby clenched a handful of his shirt. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Shannon...”
“I couldn’t catch her before she ran upstairs. Stay down. Last thing I need is another person shot.”
Another person? The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He leaped from the floor, ignoring Larraby’s protest, and vaulted toward the spiral staircase. The window in the parlor disintegrated as bullets punched through, and Larraby returned fire before shouting to his deputy via the radio.
Jack took the stairs two at a time and reached the top to find Oscar with his rifle leveled at Jack’s chest. He pulled up. “Boy, am I glad to see you. Larraby told me to stay in my room, but I heard you barreling up, and I thought it was those bikers.” They both flinched as another gunshot ripped the night.
“Where are Hazel and Shannon?”
He stabbed a finger down the hall. “Gonna keep watch at the window. Cover Larraby and his boys if I can.”
“My brothers are out there, too,” he said. “Careful, huh?”
Oscar flashed him a mischievous grin. “Ain’t shot one of you Thorn boys yet, have I?”
Jack would have laughed if he hadn’t been so eager to get to the women. He raced to Hazel’s room and knocked. “It’s Jack Thorn,” he yelled. Trying the knob, he found the door open. Hysterical crying greeted him as he pushed into the dark room.
“Hazel?”
He groped for the light switch, the sobs spurring him on. Finally, he flipped it, activating an ornate lamp covered by a stained-glass dome. The weak light revealed Hazel, lying on the floor, her cane tossed across the room. He ran to her, dropping to his knees.
“Jack,” she gasped.
“Are you hurt?”
“No. No, I’m okay.” Tears ran down her face and her fingers clawed his hands. “Please, please help her.”
Then his senses whispered a message, cold air bathed his face, teasing ripples of fear into his body. The adjoining door in the back of the room was open.
“Where’s Shannon?”
Hazel couldn’t answer for the crying that shook her. He slammed through the door into the adjoining room, shouting her name. It opened onto a narrow staircase, a back exit from the second floor. Empty. He was about to plunge down it anyway, when a noise brought him to the window. The glass was half gone, shattered by a rock or bullet.
He stared down into the night, thinking his ears had tricked him. Shannon was inside somewhere, hiding.
Down in the courtyard, he saw Cruiser locked into an altercation with a shadowed figure. The moonlight caught the moment as Cruiser dealt a glancing blow, which sent his opponent to the ground. Jack stared, his heart in his throat as Cruiser hauled the limp figure over his shoulder and jogged toward the road. The long dark hair of his victim hung like a shadow over his gang colors.
Shannon.
SIXTEEN
Forcing a sense of control he did not feel, Jack called his brothers. “Cruiser’s got Shannon. Heading for the back road.” Then he shouted for Oscar, who burst into the room.
“Sis,” he said, easing himself next to Hazel with a groan. “What have they done?”
“She’s all right. Just shaken. I have to go. They’ve got Shannon.”
With a strangled cry, Oscar thrust his rifle into Jack’s hands, his plump fists damp with sweat. He was breathing too hard to get any words out, but he didn’t have to say it anyway. Jack was already experiencing enough rage and panic for the both of them.
“Keep the rifle,” Jack said. “Stay here until the cops tell you it’s safe.”
He pounded down the stairs, past Larraby, who was handcuffing a bulky man in Ace colors, shouting for him to call an ambulance for Hazel. There were six squad cars parked every which way outside the main doors. Two biker Aces were on the ground, hands cuffed behind them. Another was strapped on a stretcher. The police must have driven the bikers from the main house and were now going room to room, guns drawn, looking for victims and bikers. The tide of battle had turned, but not for Jack.
> He saw no sign of Cruiser on the main road, but he knew that the guy wouldn’t be able to ride his motorcycle with Shannon unconscious. Sprinting back to the parking lot, praying he would not be shot by an amped-up cop, he practically dived into the front seat of his SUV. Barrett and Keegan wheeled in next to him in the truck, and Barrett shouted out the window. “Cruiser hot-wired a car from the lot. Took off east, away from town.”
“I can cut him off at Mare’s Crossing,” Jack shouted. Not waiting for a reply, he gunned the engine and flew out of the lot.
You let them win. You let them take her, his gut screamed at him. Through sheer force of will, he fought down the despair. He’d stop them, get Shannon and Dina back. It was the only scenario he’d allow himself.
Mercifully, there were no other cars around as he charged up the highway and jerked the SUV off onto a side road. Why this road? It was not well-known to outsiders, with no quick access to the highway. What if they were wrong? What if Cruiser had headed in an entirely different direction?
Trust your brothers, he reminded himself. If Barrett said this was the direction they’d taken, he’d believe him. He was doing a solid seventy miles per hour, and still saw no sign of them. He was considering pulling over to text his brothers, when he caught the tiny glimmer of a taillight in the distance. Dropping the phone, he put the pedal to the floor. Ahead was the hot-wired sedan that had been stolen from a guest at Hazel’s inn. Hope leaped to flame. He pressed the SUV as hard as it would go, until he was yards from the rear bumper.
He didn’t see Shannon in the car. She was probably lying on the seat, being bounced around like a stone in a violent flood. His jaw clenched so hard that his teeth ground together. Cruiser would pay for every bruise, every bump, Shannon had to endure.
Now he was closing the gap even more, the SUV gained ground on the stolen vehicle with every passing moment. He could make out the shadow of Cruiser’s blocky frame, tensed behind the wheel, his skinny cohort in the passenger seat, turning to assess Jack’s approach.