Merrick: Harlequins MC

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Merrick: Harlequins MC Page 44

by Olivia Stephens


  With the sound of the dogs on both sides of her, she ran along the riverbank, trying to leave them all behind. Her legs burned as badly as her lungs, but she pushed through it. Kept moving. She didn't know how long she'd been running, but eventually, she had to stop to catch her breath again. Kneeling down next to the river, Cassie scooped the cool water into her mouth.

  When she got my breathing under control, she stopped and listened. The dogs were still back there. On both sides of the creek. It didn't sound like she'd put much distance between them, but she wasn't going to give up. If she just kept moving, she would eventually find a way out of this mess. She would find some way to escape. She had to. As cliché as it was, failure wasn't an option.

  Cassie slipped the phone out of her pocket to check the time. And when she looked at the screen, her heart almost stopped. There was a signal. She almost screamed out loud seeing that she had freaking reception! Moving quickly, Cassie punched the button and called Damon. She waited and waited for the call to go through and her heart almost burst into a million pieces when she heard his voice on the other end of the line.

  “Cassie,” he sounded almost as relieved as I felt. “Where in the hell are you?”

  She almost laughed. “I have no idea. I'm next to a river somewhere in the woods.”

  “What in the hell happened? Why did you run out of the hotel with that fucking bag like that?”

  The barking and the baying of the police dogs echoed around the forest and she knew time was running short.

  “We'll talk about it later, Damon,” she said. “I'm running out of time. They're almost on me. I need to get out of here.”

  “Okay,” he said. “We need to figure out where you are. You said you're next to a river?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you can hear the dogs?”

  “Yeah, they're behind me,” she said, growing impatient.

  “How about the helicopter? Can you hear that, too?”

  Cassie pulled the phone away from her ear and listened. It was faint, but she could hear it out there in the distance.

  “Yeah, I hear it,” she said. “It sounds like it's in front of me somewhere out there. Maybe off to my right somewhere?”

  “Okay, I think I sort of have an idea of where you are,” he said.

  Relief flooded her body as he spoke, a relief so profound I almost wanted to cry.

  “Okay, listen up,” he said. “You're going to have to keep running. You need to cross the river and head through the forest that way. About two miles out, there's a dirt road. I can get there, grab you up, and get you out of there.”

  Two miles? With the sound of the dogs growing louder in her ears, she didn't think she would make it two miles before they caught up to her.

  “I don't think I have that kind of time, Damon,” she said, her fear starting to ramp up again. “They're not that far behind me as it is and I'm sure the dogs have my scent. They'll get to me long before I get to that road.”

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  “Tell me about it.”

  Damon was silent a moment and she listened to the sound of her doom growing ever closer. Not only could she hear the dogs, but the cops were getting close enough that their voices were beginning to carry, as well. Cassie could hear them as clearly as she heard the dogs.

  “Damon,” she said.

  “I know, I know,” he said. “I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to get you out of there. Just give me a minute.”

  “I don't have a minute,” she said, the first strains of panic beginning to color her voice. “I'm almost out of time.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  “Okay listen,” he said. “I'm going to get you out of there.”

  “They're coming, Damon.”

  Her voice was trembling. She was scared. And it broke his heart to hear the fear in her voice. Even more so because Damon knew she was only out there because of him. He knew she'd taken the bag and booked just to protect him. Damon felt completely responsible for what she was going through and he hated myself for it. Cassie had endured enough fear in her life. He never wanted her to ever have to be afraid of him. Or because of him.

  She sounded like she was holding up better than he would have thought though, but he knew she was terrified. Whether it was because of the dogs, the cops, or the possibility of going to jail, he wasn't sure. Probably some combination of the three. Though her voice trembled and he could hear the fear in her words, Damon also heard something that encouraged him. Underneath it all, he heard a steely resolve in her voice. She knew she was in a bad spot but she was doing everything in her power to hold herself together.

  And he knew he needed to hold it together. He needed to be strong. For her. He knew the last thing she needed to hear in his voice were his own fears and worries. They weren't going to do her any good. In fact, Damon knew they'd only feed into her own fears. Which wasn't going to help anybody. Least of all, Cassie.

  “How close are they?” he asked, keeping his voice firm. Strong. In control.

  “I don't know,” she said. “Close.”

  “Okay, I need you to get into that river you're standing next to – ”

  “Get in it?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “In it. If I'm right about where you are, it's never going to get more than knee deep on you.”

  There was a moment's pause on her end of the line and he wasn't sure if she was listening to the sound of the cops and their dogs approaching or if she was actually trying to decide whether or not to get into the water.

  “Cassie,” he said.

  “Yeah, I'm here.”

  “What are you doing? We're running out of time.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” she snapped. “Why in the hell do you want me to get in the water?”

  He sighed, trying to remain patient. Damon had to remind himself she wasn't the outdoorsy type. She didn't necessarily know things he took for granted.

  “It will throw off the dogs,” he said. “They won't be able to pick your scent up as easily. If we're lucky, they'll think you crossed the river and headed deeper into the woods.”

  “And if we're not so lucky?”

  “If we're not so lucky, they'll figure out the trick and be back on your trail. Either way, it should buy us some time.”

  He heard a sharp intake of breath and his heart leapt into his throat thinking something had happened to her. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” she grunted. “This water is cold!”

  Damon suppressed a laugh that was more awkward relief than genuine humor. “Yeah, sorry.”

  “Okay, I'm in up to my knees,” she said. “Now what?”

  “Now you're going to need to head upstream. Away from the sound of the dogs.”

  She snorted. “As if I were going to head toward them. Even I know that having my scent masked by the water isn't the same thing as being invisible.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean to – ”

  “Doesn't matter,” she said. “Okay, heading upstream now.”

  Damon looked around and tried to gauge how long it was going to take to get where he needed to be. Where she needed him to be.

  “Okay good,” he said. “Just keep going. Eventually, you're going to come to a small wooden bridge. When you get there, I need you to find a place to hide until I can get there myself.”

  “How long are you going to be?”

  He shook his head. “I don't know. Twenty minutes or so maybe.”

  “That long?”

  Damon knew twenty minutes was a shaky estimate. At best. Where she was and where he needed to be was out in the middle of nowhere. The only thing he had going for him was that because it was so far out in the sticks, he could probably ride as fast as he needed to go. But even at top speed, twenty minutes to get there was pushing it. Still, he knew that he had to try.

  “I'll try to cut that time down,” he said. “But until you hear my bike, you stay hidden. You hear me?”

  “Yeah, st
ay hidden. I hear you.”

  “Hopefully, the fact that you're in the water and not on land is going to buy us enough time.”

  “And if it doesn't?”

  If it didn't – well, Cassie was going to prison. Unless the cops offered her a deal and she rolled on the Dragons. On him. Damon didn't think she would, but he couldn't necessarily blame her if she did. She hadn't done anything wrong. Carl had. He'd screwed her over and totally jammed her up by making her take that fucking bag in the first place.

  Judging by the amount of weed and guns that had been in that bag, if she got caught, she was probably looking at some serious time. He wouldn't have blamed her for copping a deal that would keep her out of prison. That, of course, more than likely, meant he and Carl would be taking her spot. But it wouldn't be her fault.

  The best way to avoid the prison scenario at all, though, was to get to her before the cops did.

  “We'll cross that bridge when and if we ever come to it,” he said. “Right now, my only focus is to get you out of there. So get to the bridge and find some cover. I'm on my way.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Just hurry, Damon. Hurry.”

  It was the last thing she needed to tell him. “I'm hurrying. I'll be there soon. You just keep your head down.”

  “I will,” she said.

  “And Cassie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It's going to be okay,” Damon said, even though he knew he couldn't guarantee it actually would be okay. He just thought she needed to hear it, to be reassured. “Everything is going to be fine. Trust me.”

  There was a moment's pause on the line. “I – I trust you, Damon.”

  He disconnected the call, unsure if she'd hesitated because she didn't actually trust him or if she had meant to say something else. It didn't matter in that moment. He didn't have time to sit there and read between the lines, parse words or ponder the meaning of things. Damon needed to get to her.

  This was a fucking nightmare and he was going to have words with Carl about it. He never should have given her that bag. Cassie should not be in that damn creek running for her life. She shouldn't have a pack of dogs and a pack of cops on her tail. And she shouldn't have to choose between her own life and protecting the Dragons. That was all on Carl.

  Damon started his bike and roared out into the night. Once he cleared the streets of Kingston, he gunned the engine and took off as fast as he dared to go. Out in the sticks where she was, the roads weren't all paved and if you weren't careful, there was always a good chance of rounding a corner and plowing into a deer or a cow. Since he wouldn't be of any use to Cassie dead and splattered all over the side of some farm animal, he couldn't go full throttle, but Damon sped along as quickly as possible.

  He checked behind him more than a few times. He wouldn't have put it past McReed to be following behind, trying to see where he was going in the hope he could scoop both he and Cassie up at the same time. It would be the smart thing to do – which was why he wasn't overly concerned about it happening. Still, not everybody in the department was as stupid as McReed, so Damon had to make sure they hadn't suggested the idea to him and that he wasn't being followed.

  So far, so good. The road behind me was clear. He just hoped and prayed it would stay that way.

  Damon knew that McReed had nothing on him at the moment, no reason to stop him, and no reason to hassle him. But that hadn't stopped him from rattling his cage many, many times in the past. Damon knew he hated the Dragons in general, but with him, it always seemed more personal and he didn't know why. He had no idea why McReed seemed to hate him so much. Or why he seemed like he was always trying to carry out some vendetta against him. Damon had never done anything to him. Hadn't wronged him in any way – other than being a member of the club. He had no personal history with McReed and no personal beef. So he was clueless about why the cop carried such a hard on for him.

  Speculating about McReed's motives was pointless, though. He was who he was and he would continue doing what he did. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered right then was getting Cassie out of there and to safety.

  Damon lowered his head and opened up the throttle a little bit more, trying to cut down the time it would take him to get to her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  She was freezing and miserable as she trudged through the water – water that actually rose to her thighs on more than a few occasions. Clearly, Damon hadn't accounted for the height difference between them.

  She sighed. It wasn't his fault. How could he have known? Cassie wasn't angry with Damon. She was angry at the situation she was in. Angry that she was walking through freezing cold water in the middle of the night. Angry that she was running for my freedom. Or maybe even for her life.

  She waked on, finally finding herself in some ankle-deep water that made it much easier to get through. Cassie was angry, but she knew it wouldn't last. She knew her anger was nothing more than a way to distract herself from the fear that threatened to cripple her every single time she paused to catch her breath.

  The dogs were still back there. She could hear them barking and baying. But they were farther back. They weren't quite nipping at her heels anymore. Damon had been right. Climbing into the river, or the creek, or whatever the hell it was had worked. At least, it had delayed them long enough for her to put some distance between them. Not a lot, but hopefully enough.

  Up ahead, Cassie saw the bridge Damon told her to find. Feeling energized and, for the first time since she'd set out from the hotel, hopeful. With her muscles aching and still short on breath, she ran toward it. She felt like she was ready to collapse, but she got there. That was the important thing.

  Cassie sat down on the edge of the creek and took in huge gulps of air, desperately trying to get her breath back. It seemed like that was all she'd been doing all night long. Probably because it was. Eventually, her breathing returned to normal and she was able to calm herself down. Somewhat. The sound of the dogs, as distant as they might be at the moment, was like a hot needle constantly poking her in the skin.

  She knew that eventually, unless Damon showed up soon, they were going to catch up to her. The wading through the creek thing seemed to have slowed them down a bit, perhaps confused them for a short time, but it hadn't lasted. She could tell by the sounds they were making that they were coming upstream and were headed right for her.

  Aside from the dogs bearing down on her, Cassie was terrified she wasn't at the right spot. Or at least at the spot Damon thought she was. He'd been guessing her location based on what she'd able to tell him about her surroundings. What if her information was wrong? What if his geography was wrong? Cassie could be standing there at this bridge all damn night while he was sitting at another.

  Though, she wouldn't be standing at that bridge all night. If Damon had been wrong, she knew she was going to be spending the balance of the evening – and then some – in jail.

  Cassie pulled the phone out of her pocket and called him. With the cops heading in her direction, she would rather have a heads up that they were wrong about their locations so she could get the hell out of there rather than sit there and wait for Damon when he wasn't going to show up.

  She tapped my free hand against my thigh, all of her nervous fidgeting starting to come out. Thankfully, he picked up on the third ring. When he did, she could hear the roar of his bike's engine as well as the rush of wind in the phone.

  “Cassie,” Damon shouted above the noise to be heard. “Are you okay?”

  “I'm fine,” she said. “I'm here. At the bridge. Where are you?”

  “Still on the road. I'm almost there, I think.”

  “You think?”

  “Relax, Cassie,” he said.

  “Easy for you to say,” she snapped. “You don't have a pack of dogs and cops right on your ass.”

  All she heard for a moment was the sound of his motorcycle and the wind as he rode. She felt bad for snapping at him when she knew he was doing his absolute best
to get to her in time.

  “Look, I'm sorry,” she said. “I don't mean to snap at you. I'm just really scared and stressed out right now.”

  He chuckled. “I'd be more worried about you if you weren't, sweetheart.”

  We were silent a moment and she kept one ear to the phone and the other open to the sound of the approaching lynch mob.

  “It worked,” she said. “Jumping into the creek. It slowed them up a bit. Put some ground between me and them.”

  “Good,” Damon said. “That's good.”

  “But not as much as we'd been hoping. I can still hear them back there. They're coming this direction.”

 

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