When I didn’t respond, he took hold of the seatbelt, pulling it tight across my throat and cutting off my airway. I clawed at the strap, raking my nails down his hand and drawing blood. He cursed and let go, then tried to backhand me, but he was in an awkward position. I blocked him before he could connect with my face, just like Breech had taught me.
“That was your first mistake, you fucking cunt. When this car stops I’m going to beat the fucking shit out of you.” The car sped up as he pushed down harder on the accelerator. His hands were clenched tightly around the steering wheel, his eyes were bloodshot, and spit flew from his mouth when he cursed at me. He was skinny and his clothes were wrinkled and dirty. He wasn’t focused; he was expending his energy on his hatred, and I planned to use that to my advantage.
Being calm was the key, and I refused to go down easy. I clenched my trembling hands together, my nails biting into my palm, the slight sting helping me to concentrate.
He had pulled off the highway about ten minutes before. I hadn’t seen any signs or markers to tell me where we were. There were deep culverts on both sides of a two-lane road. The classes I took from Breech said to not let an assailant get you in a deserted location of his choosing because the chances of getting away were slim to none. That meant I had to get out of the car somehow. Up ahead, I could see a four-way stop with a light. There were some houses on both sides of the street with cars parked outside. I needed to distract Aden long enough to get my seatbelt unhooked before we got to the light.
He was starting to slow for the light; it was now or never. I reached around my waist with my right hand, putting my palm over the belt release, and with my other hand I swung at Aden, trying to scratch his eyes or face.
The car swerved when I got my finger in his eye. He hadn’t been prepared for an attack. His foot hit the brake; simultaneously I released the seatbelt them yanked up the parking brake. The car rocked forcefully, and I lunged for the door handle.
In a rage, he turned his face towards me; I hit him in the nose with the palm of my hand as hard as I could, forcing his head to bang against the window, leaving him stunned. My door flew open and I got out, running for the houses I saw up ahead. Reaching down, I grabbed my cell phone, losing precious seconds as I tried to speed dial Jameson.
I could hear footsteps running behind me; they didn’t sound close, but I didn’t turn around; if I did, he’d stand a better chance of catching up to me, I’d been taught. Instead putting on a burst of speed, I tried to get to one of the houses before he caught me. To my left, I heard a dog barking and veered off towards the sound. I could see the dog by the fence, snarling and growling. There was a cellar door that was open in front of the fence; I ran into the cellar, slamming the door behind me. There was a flimsy lock on the door that I flipped.
Frantically, I looked around for something to block the door with. There were two crates full of old junk right by the door; I tried pushing the first one, but it was really heavy and didn’t budge. I heard a thud against the door, then Aden screaming at me, “You fucking bitch! You’re dead, do you fucking hear me? You are fucking dead!”
I could feel the adrenaline pumping through me. I had to use it before it drained me. I pushed the crate as hard as I could. It started to slide, and my forward momentum kept it moving the few feet ‘til it was up against the door. Aden was pounding on the door; it shuddered but the lock held. I went back for the second crate, which was a little lighter. Dragging it over and using all my strength, I got it stacked on top of the first one. The dog was still barking, growling loudly at Aden as he pounded on the door.
I needed to call for help, and that’s when I realized I didn’t have my cell. “Shit.” I must have dropped it when I was running. “Damn it!”
Aden was kicking at the door now, throwing his body weight against it. Behind the jarring force of his boot, I heard the wood crack, rewarding his efforts and discouraging mine. There was a staircase along one wall; I ran to it, bounding up the stairs. The door at the top was locked so I started pounding on it. “Help,” I yelled. “Please, someone help me!”
I put my ear to the door, but couldn’t hear anything. I pounded a few more times, my throat growing sore from yelling, and my fists aching from banging on the solid wood.
I went back down the stairs, searching for a weapon. I saw some tools scattered across a rickety table. There was a rusty box cutter under a couple of old handsaws. Grabbing it, I pushed the button a few times ‘til the blade came loose from the dirty handle.
It didn’t look that sharp, but at least I had something—and maybe the fucker would get tetanus from it. The dog suddenly stopped barking, and so did the banging at the door. It was eerie not knowing where he was or what he was up to; the absence of sound was frightening. I checked the lock; it had held but it didn’t look like it could take much more.
I settled down on the floor under the staircase, trying to compose myself and come up with a plan.
I could do this.
I would do this.
I wouldn’t let Aden win.
Twenty-Seven
As I was getting on my bike, the phone rang. I looked down at the display, thinking it was one of the boys with an update, but the display said it was Tish!
I picked up, yelling, “Tish, what the fuck?”
There was no answer. I could hear her breathing hard; it sounded like she was moving fast. “Tish, babe, I don’t know what’s happening, you’ve got to talk to me.” Still no answer. “Babe, if you can’t talk to me, keep the line open, DO NOT hang up, Tish! I’m coming for you, I swear it, just hang on.” I listened but now I couldn’t hear her breathing or any sound at all.
Jumping on my bike, I hauled ass to the clubhouse. One of the prospects on the gate heard me coming and swung it open so I could pass through without having to stop. Parking, I ran up the steps and flung open the door, yelling for Sonny. He stuck his head out of the meeting room.
“In here, Fighter.”
I ran in holding out my cell phone. “She called, Sonny. She hasn’t spoken but I could hear her breathing, now nothing, but the line is open still.” I handed him the phone. “Find her, man.”
“Tish,” he said into the handset, but the phone was still silent. “Tish, I’m triangulating your location, keep the line open, sweetheart. If you can, push a couple buttons on the phone so we know you understand us, just don’t hang up.” Nothing, just dead air.
“FUCK!” I shouted, banging my fist on the desk.
Sonny was busy with his laptop doing some computer shit, while Dukes sat in his chair, smoking. “Calm yourself, Fighter. He’s doing the best he can, man.”
Breech and Danko came running in. “Any news, Fighter?” Breech asked.
“She called me, Breech, but she isn’t talking. I heard her breathing, like she was running, then nothing. Sonny is tracking her cell. How’s Jiji taking it?” I asked.
“Jiji is freaking out. Sandra is keeping her company with Lani; they’re in the kitchen with some of the club girls, making sandwiches.”
“I can’t worry about her right now, man; she’ll just have to suck it up ‘til we get Tish back,” I snarled.
“I’ll go check on them, make sure she’s okay.” He came around the table, grabbed me up, and gave me a hug, slapping my back.
“Thanks, brother, I appreciate that.”
“We’ll get her back, Fighter. She’s family; we won’t stop ‘til we have her back.”
“If something happens to her, Breech…”
“Stop, Fighter, don’t go looking for trouble. Let’s concentrate on the positive and on getting her home.”
I brushed a hand against my eyes, ducking my head so he couldn’t see.
Bumping my fist, he left to check on Jiji.
I found Jiji in the kitchen with the women. When she saw me coming she flew
over to me. “Breech, did you find her? Is she all right? Is she coming home?”
She clung to my arm, firing questions at me one on top of the other. Her hair was a mess from pushing her fingers through it, her eyes were red rimmed and watery from crying, and her nails were digging into my arm as she pleaded for news.
Sonya was standing close by; she handed Jiji a tissue so she could wipe her eyes and blow her nose. “I hope you find her soon, Breech,” she said.
I lifted my hand, shooing Sonya away. She made a face but left us alone. Lowering my hand, I brushed Jiji’s hair away from her face, cupping her cheek. “We don’t know anything yet, doll. She did try and contact Fighter, and Sonny is tracking her cell as we speak.”
“Please, Breech, you have to find her; he’ll kill her for sure this time. He’s an animal with no morals.” She burst into tears, trembling from the force of her crying.
I couldn’t help it; I drew her into my arms, rocking her, trying to soothe her as best I could. She fisted my T-shirt, her tears soaking it through. She snaked an arm around my waist, letting me take her weight. Behind me the door closed quietly as the others left us alone in the kitchen. When the storm of tears passed, her body became pliant, her energy drained.
She leaned back in my arms, looking up at me. “Promise me you’re going to find her,” she pleaded.
“I swear to God, I will do everything I can to find her and bring her home to you and Fighter, Jiji.” Her eyes widened and her body started trembling for a different reason. I lowered my head, meaning only to kiss her forehead, but she rose up on her toes, tipping up her chin, and I couldn’t resist kissing her parted lips. She looped her arms around my neck, pulling me closer to her, opening her mouth at the urging of my tongue. That’s all the invitation I needed.
Crushing her to my body, I kissed her, exploring her mouth with my tongue, then using it to tangle with hers. Her breasts flattened against my hard chest, and I’m sure she could feel the outline of my cock growing thick and pressing against the seam of her jeans.
The door opened with a bang and Jiji jumped away like she’d been burned. Her face flushing, she busied herself picking up a plate of sandwiches and moving to leave the kitchen. I stepped in her path, blocking her escape.
“Breech, Sonny almost has a fix on Tish; we have to strap-up man,” Danko said, ignoring the scene he walked into.
“I’m coming, Danko, be there in a second,” I said. Danko grunted a reply as he left.
I looked down at Jiji, using my fingertips to tilt her chin up so she had to meet my eyes. “I have to go, doll; we’ll talk about what happened here later. I’m not sorry I kissed you, only that now isn’t the time or place.” She acknowledged my comment with a bob of her head, then fled. I sighed watching her flee. She wasn’t going to make it easy for me.
Sprinting up the stairs to my room, I unlocked the gun safe and pulled out my weapon of choice, a Smith & Wesson M&P9 M2.0 still in its holster. I knew it was loaded, so I grabbed some extra clips, stuffing them in my cut. I slammed the safe door, running back downstairs to the office.
Sonny looked up from his laptop and shouted, “Got it,” as I breezed in. “The phone is located off County Road 8, near Oneonta.”
“Let’s roll!” Dukes said.
Dukes, Sonny, Fighter, Danko, and I ran out to our bikes. We roared out of the lot following Sonny, who had taken point with his tracking software. I wasn’t a religious man, but I prayed as we raced through the early morning fog.
Please let her be okay. Please let us find her.
“Hang on, Tish, the Devil’s Wind is coming for you!”
Twenty-Eight
“Damn it!”
I knew better then to put myself in an undefendable situation. Because the cellar only had one way out other than going through the house—which I hoped Aden was not desperate enough to do—I had no way of knowing where Aden was or what he was doing. Stupid move number two was dropping my phone—though I guess that was stupid move number one, since I apparently dropped it before I ran in here.
I heard voices coming from the top of the stairs; my instinct was to go up, but that also put me in a bad position if the person was Aden. Better to stay between the two doors so I had a chance to get away from either exit.
The small window above my head suddenly shattered.
Glass rained down on my hair; I threw up my arms to shield my head. An arm reached through the window, trying to grab me, but I moved quickly out of the way. An old broom handle was laying in the dirt and I snatched it up, swinging it like a bat as hard as I could across the palm dangling through the broken window. He howled with rage and pain, spitting out curses, but the arm withdrew, dripping blood from where it hit the glass when I swung at him.
With the window open, I could hear the rumble of pipes. Bikes were coming. Aden must have heard them too, because the cursing stopped and I heard footsteps moving away from the window.
I ran to the door, undecided about what to do. It could be a ploy to get me to open the door, but it could be the guys from Devil’s Wind looking for me. I had trapped myself in this room; I needed to find out who was out there, friend or foe. Either way, I was a sitting duck where I was. My decision made, I began tugging at the boxes, trying to get them away from the door so I could slip out.
The sound of the bikes was getting louder; they had to be close to the four-way stop where I bailed out on Aden. I needed to get their attention, see if they could help me get out of this nightmare—even if it wasn’t Jameson, I had faith in bikers helping me escape.
The box on top tipped over and I jumped out of the way; an air horn rolled out of the box, along with a triangle, cow bell, and some rubber fingers. I grabbed the air horn and the cow bell as a backup in case the air horn was out of air, sliding the other box out of the way so I could open the door. Looking out, I couldn’t see anything, but the dog started growling again. I ignored him and he shut up. I crept up the steps, scouting around, but didn’t see Aden.
The bikes were passing the light when I set off the horn, ringing the bell with my other hand. The loud blast and clanging almost made me deaf, but it was a godsend—the bike at the end of the line turned my way. I ran for it, waving my hands in the air and yelling.
A car came around the side of the house, fishtailing and slinging gravel in all directions as it headed right towards me. I could never outrun it, but if I could get to the biker I’d at least have a chance.
The biker gunned it, trying to cut the car off before it could get to me. I thought for sure he was going to lay it down. He wrestled with the bike and was able to get control, sliding to a stop a few feet away.
“Get on!” he yelled. I sprinted flat-out, swinging on the back. “Got you, Tish.”
“Thank God, Breech, you found me—it’s Aden!”
“We know, Tish, just hang on tight.” He slammed the bike in gear, and with a twist of the throttle he took off, the tires digging for traction on the loose rock of the driveway. The bike drifted sideways before straightening out. If I hadn’t had Breech around the waist, he would have dumped me. The other bikers were racing in our direction, forming a line between us and the speeding car.
Aden spun the wheel, trying to turn away from the oncoming bikers. He misjudged the turn, and the right side tires teetered on the edge of the asphalt before plunging down into the culvert, smashing into the concrete rain basin at the bottom. Smoke rose from the culvert.
Pulling up to the side where the car went in, Breech stopped the bike. I could smell the noxious odor of gas; the car was a twisted hunk of metal nose down, left side up at the bottom of the hole. Across from us, Jameson and Sonny were slipping and sliding down the steep slope to get to the car.
My feet moved before I realized I was following them over the side. Breech grasped me around the waist. “No, Tish, you can’t go down ther
e.”
“I smell gas, Breech, let me go, I’ve got to help him.”
“Tish, stop it, he knows what he’s doing. Don’t distract him, then he could get hurt.” I stopped struggling at his words, knowing he was right.
Jameson reached the door first, prying it open then dragging Aden out. The next few seconds felt like they were happening in slow motion. I could see Aden raise his Bowie knife to stab Jameson in the chest, aiming for his heart. Sonny was on the other side of the car, checking to see if it was empty; he couldn’t have gotten to him in time.
Breech still had his arms around me; I pulled his gun from the holster at his waist and aimed, firing without thinking. The shot hit Aden in the shoulder but he didn’t drop the knife. Jameson was sliding around in the mud; he couldn’t get a good hold on Aden. I pulled the slide, aimed once more, and fired.
The second shot hit Aden in the head. He went down and didn’t move again.
Jameson looked up to see me standing there holding the gun; he gave a chin lift to Breech, who gently removed the gun from my grasp. “Tish, it’s over. Aden is dead, he can’t ever hurt anyone again,” Breech said softly.
I started shaking, clasping and unclasping my fingers. Breech put his arm around my shoulder.
“Tish, try and relax. It’s okay. This is normal; your reaction is from an adrenaline overload.”
Two strong hands turned me away from Breech into a wide chest. “Jameson, oh my God, Jameson, he was going to kill you. I couldn’t let him kill you.” Flinging my arms around his neck, I hugged him, running my hands over his chest and biceps, just feeling him alive and whole in my arms.
“Shh, it’s okay, babe. You did the right thing, I’m fine.” He kissed my hair, running his hands up and down my back and arms.
Fighter's Claim: Devils Wind MC Page 15