And that’s when the visions of him started popping back. Each rider was Anton. Anton with a mustache. Anton with a sleek helmet reflecting the sun into my eyes. Anton giving me a nod of his head, as he checked me out at a construction zone. Anton. Anton. Anton. I couldn’t not see or feel his presence out in the California desert.
After my tenth Anton encounter, I knew that I couldn’t go a mile further. I had to go back for him. And if he wouldn’t come with me, I had to at least explain to him what I had heard and why I had acted as I had the night before.
The problem was that the night I went to Anton’s place, I wasn’t exactly at my best. While I knew which complex he lived in, the rows and rows of brown doors with gold numbers wasn’t going to exactly help me. As I walked out of my car into the pouring rain and stared up at the vast apartment building, I knew I was way over my head.
One by one, floor by floor, I knocked on each door. Most didn’t answer. I figured with it being a weekday and mid-afternoon I would be safe from a lot of awkward run-ins. But the few people that did answer just stared off at me as if I was a complete nut job. It probably didn’t help that I currently look like a drowned rat with my clothes practically sticking to my body.
Finally, from across the hall, I saw him. The sound of his bike got to me first. It’s funny how little things like the noise an engine makes can be so ingrained in your head, especially when you need that sensation back. Little tingles crept up my spine and back causing me to turn away from the graying old man who was yelling at me from the top of his tired lungs that he didn’t take solicitors.
I tried to call out his name, but the sound of the rain pounding on the tin roof above us roared. Luckily, I made it to the third floor banister, just in time to see the top of his dark auburn hair, as he struggled angrily with his door’s lock. My feet couldn’t run fast enough, as I slipped and slid over the sloppy cement floors down to the second floor.
When I got to his door, I paused, my arm raised up just ready to knock. In that moment, I closed my eyes tightly and thought about what this knock was. Already I had made the decision to abandon my family for good, but knocking on Anton’s door meant getting him involved to the point he or I could be killed. I couldn’t take this lightly.
But suddenly, I didn’t feel any more fear. The image of my father wasn’t there, hunting me down to the ends of the earth. All that was left was Anton sneaking into my window, holding me in an embrace upon my bed. It was watching him from his bed as he went about his morning routine. It was just us…together.
I knocked. I knocked so loudly I thought my hand would instantly crack open from the weight and force. When he didn’t immediately come to the door, I began kicking at it, hoping that he would stop cursing at me and just give me a chance.
His eyes greeted me first. Those clear blue eyes sparkled like diamonds as they recognized me. We both stood completely still, him holding on to the door handle while I looked up at him unblinking until he spoke. “Tory?” Anton has repeated my name at least three or four times, and I still can’t seem to answer him. “Tory, why are you here? I thought earlier, when you said—”
“Can I come in?” My first words to him are more like a plea.
His hands swing the door the open wider for me to slowly tiptoe into his apartment. It’s just as my hazy recollection recalls…with the plain walls and the bed in the back corner of the room. I stand there taking it all in, as my arms wrap around my chest to keep me from shivering.
Anton notices immediately as he quickly commands me, “Get out of those clothes.”
“What?”
“You’re soaking wet. You can’t just stay in those things. Change out of them, and I’ll go grab you a pair of my pajamas while they are in the dryer.” He walks over to a dresser near the bed and pulls out a pair of black flannel drawstring pants and a black t-shirt. He places them on the table next to me and then turns his back to the wall, giving me the privacy he knows I need.
I quickly peel off the dripping wet clothes. Each piece falls onto the tile floor with a splat that makes me cringe. Everything about this is so embarrassing, but it only gets worse as I try to fit into his pants. While he’s slim, he’s also a giant in height. The pants drape around my feet and the shirt stretches to my knees. I look less like myself and more like a girl trying on her parents’ clothes.
When Anton sees me, he lets out a long, deep laugh, breaking the mood. “Well, that isn’t exactly what I’d dream to see you in, but it’ll do.”
“Thanks,” I reply dryly, as I gather my clothes up into a pile and hand them over to Anton. “I have a change of clothes in the car. I could always go back and get it.” I motion back towards the closed door, turning my head slightly away.
In a flash, he grabs my arm and pulls me closer to him. The wet clothes fall back to the ground, as he brushes away the strand of blackish brown hair from around my face. My arm slides up his chest and to his neck, lingering along his jaw.
We both pause before plunging in for a long, deep kiss. I feel myself sinking and lifting at the same time as I struggle to get closer to him. His large hand reaches under one of my legs and then the next as I float upwards. My legs catch around his hips as he begins to walk us over towards the couch in the living space. My hand reaches behind me, feeling for the leather sofa to catch my fall, and he follows, tumbling on top of me.
His mouth pulls away from mine, moving to the left, near my ear. His stubbly golden beard tickles at the side of my neck, as he trails down the long curve. When he hits the high collar of his t-shirt, he stops. I can feel his belly retract and release as he again lets out a long laugh. I pull my head up as I quickly ask, “What?”
He tugs at the collar of the shirt I’m wearing as he wipes away a tear. “It’s hard to get worked up when you smell like me and dress like me!”
I push off of him lightly. “Oh man! Come on!” I glance over towards the television. A green set of numbers is flashing the time, and I’m suddenly back to where I began. “Anton…”
“I know. We have to talk.” He sits himself up first and then offers me his hand. I hold on as he pulls me up to sitting, directly across from him on the other side of the couch. “What are you doing here, Tory?”
“I-I-I ran away,” I say, stammering, unsure of what I am afraid of. “After last night, I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“Last night? With me?”
“Yes. I wanted you, Anton. I wanted you so bad, and when I didn’t take off with you when you left, I regretted every second of it.” My voice speeds up as I begin to ramble. “I couldn’t sleep… I couldn’t think… I just wanted to rewind the time and say yes to you again. But I knew I couldn’t… So when I heard what my dad said this morning, I knew I had to be proactive and get the hell out of there.”
“Wait,” Anton says with his hand raised in front of me. “What did Walsh say this morning?”
“He was talking to my mom about marrying me off to some guy named Hunch or something.”
“Haunch.” The tone of his voice is unreadable, as he looks down at his tattooed hands. “He’s marrying you off to Haunch.”
“I don’t know. Whomever it is, I don’t care. But when my mom tried to stand up for you, he said he’d kill you.” I watch as Anton stands to his feet and walks straight for the window, pulling back the blinds slowly. I know already that what I said has rocked him. “Anton, I don’t want to get you in trouble. That’s why I took off on my own first, but something… I don’t know… maybe being out on that open road… Well, it made me think of you, and I had to go back.”
He doesn’t look away as he quietly says, “Tory, you have to go. You have to get out of here. I can’t protect you if you’re here.”
My mind goes numb as I try to process it all, and in that crazed moment, I blurt out, “Then come with me. That’s what I came here to say. Come with me. Come with me! With you by my side, I know we can get out of this town and out from under my dad and brother.”
I
stand up quickly, as I try not to trip over the pants. My feet slosh back and forth as I walk over towards the window. Placing my hand on his shoulder, he turns to face me as I say quietly, “Anton, I don’t want to go anywhere without you. You offered me a chance at freedom yesterday, and I turned you down. Now please give me a second chance.”
His hand cusps around mine before bringing it up to his face. He kisses it quickly as he softly says, “Things have changed, Tor. I learned some things today, and I need to stay here. The club needs me.”
“I need you.”
“I know.” His eyes glow hungry and tired all at the same time. “Go back home, Tory.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you have to go back home.”
“I stole.” It bursts out of me. “I stole a whole bunch of my dad’s money. I can’t go back there now.”
“What?” He looks at me in total disbelief. Here was this perfect angel of a woman admitting to a huge sin against someone way more dangerous than he dared to mess with. To Anton, I was a changed woman.
“Please. He’ll kill me.”
“He’s going to kill both of us.”
I tug at his bare arm, my voice raised in panic. “Not if he doesn’t find out about you being involved, but I don’t know how to get out of this place without being caught. Even on the road, I saw the Knights riding the highways.”
He walks away from the window and towards the bed. I stay in place in the living room just near the door in case I need to make a quick exit. After a few minutes of pacing, he talks from across the living room, “Exit 28. It’s a frontage road exit. No one’s there after six in the evening, not even the Knights. You leave now, get to the other side of town, Senators’ territory if you can. And I’ll meet you there at six thirty tonight.”
I look straight at him as I dimly ask, “And you’ll come with me?”
“And I’ll come with you,” Anton replies, his jaw set.
Chapter 16: The Knight Watch
“Now? You want me to leave now?” Tory asks, her large eyes boring holes into mine. Her expression has completely changed since I agreed to go with her. “Or should I wait? I don’t know what to do here.” Her voice trails off, as she makes it clear that she isn’t the one to figure out her own escape.
“You should go now. The club is already pissed at me for taking the shift off.”
“Why did you do that?”
“It’s not important right now. What I need for you to do is to go home for a little bit. Act normal. Tell your mother you love her, and then meet me at our spot in your car. We’ll ditch it a little up the highway and then take off on the bike when the coast is clear.”
“Anton, I can’t go back to that house. They’ll know something is up. I know my father. By now, he’s counted the money and realized it’s gone, and he’ll be coming after my mother or me. Probably my mother. And I can’t bear to sit there and lie about it.”
“Your father isn’t home. I saw him back at the club headquarters a few hours ago, and Brandon should be out doing runs by now. You should be safe if you go back for a few hours. Just lay low. Act like your plans changed, and you’re just hanging out there. If anyone asks you any questions, you run like fire and get back to me.”
She nods her head quickly, as she holds on to my outstretched arms. They have somehow found their way around her hips, pulling her in for a soft embrace. The smell of her wafts in my direction. It’s almost intoxicating.
“Tory,” I say, as I break away. “You have to go now. The boys should be here any second, and if you are wanted, they’ll all know which car is yours.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re right. What am I thinking? They’ll be coming here first, more than likely.”
“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.” I mean that. No one has ever worried about me in my entire life…certainly not my parents. It wasn’t until I met her that I felt like someone actually cared about my world.
She stands, grabbing her purse off of the side of the couch. I hold up my hand to gesture for her to wait as I run over to the dryer. This whole time it’s been beating and rattling up against the wall, but I haven’t even thought about it till now. I pull out her clothes. They’re still a bit damp, but it’s better than dripping. She smiles at me warmly as she slips off of my t-shirt. I get a glimpse of that milky white skin and those perky breasts before she turns away with flushed cheeks.
When she finishes dressing herself back up, she turns round to me and grabs my hand. Her fingers rub over my knuckles gently but with a bit of pressure. In a voice almost drifted away, she asks, “Will you promise me that you’ll be there tonight?”
“I promise you, Tory. I’m going to be there. Just wait for me.” I kiss her forehead and slick back the hair that’s fallen out of the ponytail she threw up. We both linger there, feeling the warmth between our two bodies until I pull her away and lead her towards the door. I look out over the parking lot and balcony before letting her slip out, neither of us saying a goodbye.
With Tory gone, I’m back to my empty apartment counting down the passing minutes until someone from the Desert Knights contacts me. But my phone doesn’t ring. My door doesn’t knock. There’s not even an email recap coming through. I’m totally in the dark, and I know that’s exactly how Brandon and Clay Walsh want this to go down.
So I sit, waiting. I watch a little TV. I pack up a few things for the road. I make an instant pasta dish. And the hours pass by slower than they ever have before, as if they know I’m just waiting for my future to unfold before me.
At five thirty, a half hour before I told Tory to meet me at the exit, I finally step out of my apartment and out into the public. My first steps were like landing on a new land, unsure, unsteady, and weary of what is lurking around the corner. I cautiously made my way down the balcony corridor and towards where my bike is parked out in the one dry spot of the lot.
I leave the apartment complex slowly and drive like a civilian through the streets. At every turn, I wait a few seconds for the ambush I am anticipating, but there’s nothing. No one to pull me over at the red light, no cop waiting to take me back to the headquarters under Walsh’s orders, and no signs of a Desert Knight within miles of my route.
Despite taking back ways to the highway, I make it to our spot in record time. I duck out from the rain in a nearby watershed, kicking the lock to get in. From a small hole in the graying, decayed wood, I watch the empty road, counting down the minutes till when Tory is supposed to arrive.
But six thirty comes, and there’s no sign of her. I hunker down in the shed, checking my phone for any message she may have tried to leave me. Nothing. Another half hour passes and then an hour. I’m still by myself waiting out the rain in my hiding spot.
By eight, I’m through. My mind is leaping back and forth from being pissed at her for obviously chickening out to being out of my mind frightened that something happened to her like she had predicted. I kick the door to the shed open and scrunch myself out of the tight fit. I walk over to where I left my bike, and after a few hours of sitting out in the elements, it’s caked in wet, fresh mud and earth.
With one of my throwaway rags, I bend down and begin to wipe away the huge chunks that have formed around the tires. It’s there where I see the reflection in my mirror…two headlights behind me and the outline of a woman in a blue dress. The wind whips at the hemline as she opens her mouth to call my name.
I don’t hear it over my own footsteps. I pound my way through the mud to reach Tory, as she stands off the side of the road. Her eyes are red and splotchy, and her mouth quivers as she cries out, “I’m sorry, Anton. I’m sorry. My dad…he knew. He knew about the money.”
My eyes blink as I take her in. The bruise on her cheek is still there, but it somehow looks fresher than just a few hours ago. I place my hands around her head, my thumb lightly tracing the marks. “What did he do?”
“I-I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to go. Can we go?” She moti
ons towards her car, which is still running, the windshield wipers flapping back and forth in a thundering rhythm.
Something comes over me as I shake my head. “No. Not yet. We can’t go yet.”
“Anton, we have to g—”
I cut her off, pulling her lips into mine and wrapping my arms around her thick waist. Her body falls towards me, and I catch her and hold her in place. The cold, sandy rain beats down upon us, as we madly push into one another, her catching up with my needs.
“There’s something that I want to do before we leave.”
“I-I…” She knows exactly what I want to do. She can read it in the pulsating expression of my eyes. Her hand touches my lips, as she asks shyly, “Will you be gentle?”
“This time, I will.” I kiss her again, my hands leading the way around her face. When she’s locked into me, I lead her back to the car, our feet dragging in the mud. From behind, she feels for the handle and finds it. We both slip into the back seat, panting and sopping wet. We slide around the leather interior, as she strips off her white sweater and I peel off my colors.
Taken: A Dark Hitman Romance Page 36