ROUGHNECK: A DARK MOTORCYCLE CLUB ROMANCE

by Nikki Wild

  Jared.

  He left last night. Even after Hale told him not to a thousand times. Someone must have spotted him when he went out to buy that beer.

  Hale said the MC had eyes everywhere. All it would’ve taken is one person to see him in town and follow him to the condo.

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  “Be quiet. You’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Find out what?”

  My fear was giving way to anger.

  “Is this what you guys do… take young women and deliver them to your boss? That sounds like the work they give to the punks. Isn’t that what they call you guys who take the orders?”

  Maybe, if I could piss them off they’d make a mistake. If they pulled over or something, I might be able to get out and run.

  “You’re not gonna be talkin’ so tough when you get to where you’re going.”

  I was laid out across the van’s middle seats. It was a bit of a surprise when they didn’t secure me in place. I guess they figured I couldn’t do any damage with my hands behind my back. I was about to prove that theory wrong.

  There was a small gap where the bottom of the bag came to rest against my neck. If I tilted my head back far enough, I could see a little bit of what was in front of me.

  The guy in the passenger seat had his hands in his lap. From what I could tell, he didn’t have any kind of weapon on him. I couldn’t nudge the bag high enough to see above his shoulders, but that wasn’t especially important. The driver was going to be my target.

  Step one was going to be easy. All I had to do was navigate to the other end of the bench seat. If I could do that, then I could see the driver.

  “Do you guys know Roughneck?” I asked.

  They didn’t answer right away. I could imagine they were looking at each other trying to see if the other one was going to say anything. Either way, it gave me enough time to flip my position.

  “You think that prick is gonna save you?” said the passenger.

  “So, you do know him?”

  “I know he better bring your brother’s dumb ass to the clubhouse or Dirty is gonna take out his frustrations on you.”

  It took a minute to get my bearings, but from the new position I was able to see the steering column and part of the van’s instrument panel. The speedometer showed we were doing about forty. As long as we weren’t on the freeway, I knew I’d have the guts to go through with my plan.

  “He sounds like a charmer.”

  “Yeah, he’s a regular Casanova. Now, would you please shut the fuck up?”

  “Not much for conversation, huh? That’s okay. I can occupy myself.”

  “Good.”

  Yeah. Good. Just keep thinking that, asshole.

  From the steering wheel to the driver’s head had to be no more than three feet. That gave me a better than good approximation of where to aim. My legs would be plenty long enough to find the mark. With any luck, I’d hit him square in the temple.

  The rope around my wrists was too tight. But, if I had some wiggle room, it would be a safe bet that I could get the hood off. That’s all I would need. If the crash didn’t bring bystanders, my screaming would.

  “Where are we?”

  I knew I wouldn’t get an answer, but it was worth a shot. I didn’t care if they tried to do something, because they wouldn’t have enough time to react.

  “Put a gag in her mouth,” ordered the driver. “If we have to keep listening to her, I’ll kill her before we get her back to the house.”

  “House? You mean clubhouse? I can’t wait to tell the police all about this…”

  The passenger rustled in his chair. He was probably trying to climb out of his seat. If he didn’t have a belt on when we crashed, all the better.

  I scooted down further on the seat, positioning my right leg in the center, between the two captain’s chairs.

  “I think I’m going to get out, now.”

  They didn’t make it past their laugh before I struck.

  I kicked hard at the spot I’d measured. The heel of my running shoe led the way. It connected with a powerful thump to what I could only guess was the back of the driver’s head.

  The van swerved violently to the left.

  “Shit!” yelled the passenger. I heard him fall into the dash.

  We cut back to the right. The tires squealed against the hot surface of the road. The action of the van made me afraid it might catch something and flip over. I’d be killed for sure, if that were the case. Without being strapped in, I’d bounce around like a piece of corn in a popper. Truth be told, that seemed like a better option than being dragged away by these animals.

  “Dime, get it under control!” shouted the passenger.

  I’d fallen to the floor in between the front and back seats. Although it was probably only a few seconds, the crash seemed to be happening in slow motion. Maybe it was because I was blinded by the bag, but all of my other senses felt more in tune.

  “I’m trying,” screamed the driver. “That bitch kicked me.”

  And I was about to do it again.

  From the floor, I couldn’t see anything. The sound of his voice would be a good enough to lead my foot to his face.

  I spun and braced myself against the base of the passenger seat. This time I used my left foot as I balanced on the opposite knee to extend my range. The first try hit air, but the second found its way to his neck.

  I connected with soft flesh. Just as the van was being pulled under control, it went right back off the rails.

  “Ahh, c’bon, get ter!” His words were muffled by a hand. Maybe it was his nose I hit instead.

  We fishtailed through rocks and dirt. In my mind, we were on the shoulder of the road. The driver stomped on the brakes. When the van bounced, I felt sure we were going to flip upside down and roll. But we didn’t.

  After a skidding turn, the van came to a rest. The body of the vehicle rocked on its worn shocks. Then, there re was silence.

  I knew I couldn’t waste a second. From my seat on the floor, I quickly brought my tied hands beneath me and looped them over my feet. Thank God for the six years of gymnastics when I was a kid.

  The bag came off my head with little resistance. They hardly tied the thing in place. I could see for the first time.

  The scene was similar to what I imagined in my head. My captors were both very typical looking bikers. Even in the van, they wore their leather riding gear.

  The passenger was slumped over the dash board. There was a spiraling web of cracks in the windshield above his head. His breaths came in shallow, slow repetitions.

  The driver wasn’t in much better shape. His nose seeped blood. It could have been the result of the crash, but I was happy to believe it was from my kick. He was awake, but clearly stunned.

  I, on the other hand, seemed to be free of any thing more than a few bruises. My arms and legs both worked and that was what mattered most. Maybe it was the thrill of the crash, but I felt great.

  I lunged for the sliding door. A frantic moment washed over me as I realized I didn’t know how to open it. I frantically searched for the handle.

  Behind me, one of the guys was beginning to stir.

  C’mon Addy. You can do this.

  I stopped myself, took a deep breath, and focused. My fingers searched the normal places while my eyes scoured the rest of the door. There it was! A small, pull-style, lever. It was slightly higher than I’d been looking. I pulled and the door rolled open.

  Run!

  I stumbled out of the van.

  “Help! Somebody please help me!”

  I screamed and waved my arms, but I was talking to trees. We were somewhere outside of town on a deserted road. It was paved, but in desperate need of repair. The van sat perpendicular to it on the sloped shoulder.

  I’d waited too long to make my move, and now there was no help to be had.

  “Stay there!” yelled the driver.

  No way.

  I sprinted
in the direction we’d come from… At least, I hoped that’s the direction I was going. It was hard to be sure after the accident.

  Someone was bound to come along and see me. With the head start, neither one of the bikers would be able to catch me on foot, and I was pretty sure that van wasn’t going anywhere. I was athletic enough to really run, and the sheer adrenaline flowing through my veins wouldn’t allow me to stop. I rounded a small turn and realized just what kind of trouble I was in.

  The road was long and straight. I could see for days. There were no cars coming.

  I focused on the vanishing point and prayed for a car to come over the horizon. I reasoned that even if one did approach, it might not stop for some crazy woman. I decided if someone did come, I’d risk being run over to jump in front and get them to stop.

  In the short distance behind me, I heard an engine sputter painfully to life. So much for the van being out of commission. I chanced a look back over my shoulder, and sure enough, they were getting turned around to follow me.

  My options weren’t ideal. I could continue along the road and hope someone and witness got in range before they did, or I could go off the road and try to hid amongst the trees. My legs chose for me.

  I turned away from the road and started running even harder toward the tree line. It couldn’t have been more than fifty yards away. The van wouldn’t be able to follow me there.

  Maybe it was the motion from the running, or maybe it was pure luck, but the binds on my wrists started to shake loose. I worked them as I moved. With a little effort, they slipped over the wider parts of my hands and fell to the ground.

  I was half way there when I heard the van skid to a stop. There were faint sounds of the men cursing and then climbing out to follow.

  A small wire fence blocked my path. I hadn’t noticed it from the road, and once I spotted it amongst the tall grass… I was too late to avoid it. I made a last ditch effort to hop over, but the combination of my speed plus the soft condition of the ground I was running across caused me to come up short.

  I crashed into it at full speed. My upper half when tumbling over, while my lower got caught up. My shorts snagged on one of the protruding wires. I struggled to break free but the way I was hanging had me at an awkward angle. I couldn’t reach the place where I was caught.

  “Hurry!” yelled one of the guys from behind me. “She’s getting away. Don’t let her get over that fence!”

  They were closing in fast. Their harsh breaths flowed in unison with their heavy steps.

  I struggled with everything I had against the fence. I pulled myself further over, hoping my body weight would help me to break free. While I got over to the other side, it just left me hanging… almost completely upside down.

  “Grab her!”

  They were within spitting distance.

  I gave it one last pull. The fabric stretched under the pressure and finally broke free. My shorts ripped down the side, and tore almost completely from my body. But I was over the fence.

  I scrambled to my feet just as the two bikers crashed into the fence behind me. Their momentum, along with the weight of their bodies almost took the fence to the ground. The tumbled in a heap.

  My legs felt like jelly. It was as if the conquering of the fence took all of the remaining energy out of me. I wobbled toward the trees.

  “Get off of me! Get up!”

  The canopy of the thicket blocked out the sun. Though it was the middle of the day, the area was dark. I ventured in with no real idea of where to go. I wanted to disappear. That’s all I knew.

  My body didn’t want to carry me any further. The only thing I could do was pick a spot to hide and pray they didn’t find me. Up ahead, there was a small clearing. I figured that if I could get beyond that and get down by the base of a tree, they’d have a harder time figuring out which way I went.

  They were on their feet again and running. I had to decide fast. I picked one to the roadside. I didn’t want them to have the opportunity to cut me off from the road.

  “Where the hell did she go?”

  Their whispers were blunted by the surrounding foliage, but they were close enough that I could still hear. I held my breath and tried not to move a muscle. A car went by in the distance.

  Just my luck.

  Their voices trailed off. I couldn’t tell if they were past me, or if they had stopped talking. I wanted to close my eyes and pretend this wasn’t happening. If they spotted me back here, there would be no getting away.

  I wouldn’t be able to hide forever. The area wasn’t that large. If they split up to look, they’d find me in a matter of minutes. I had to keep moving.

  It was hard to know where they were. The way I was leaning against the tree had my back to them. I think they passed me but I couldn’t be sure.

  Count to ten, Addy.

  If I didn’t hear anything by the time I got to ten, I’d run back to the road.

  One…

  The fence wouldn’t slow me down this time.

  Two…

  Maybe they left the keys behind in their hurry to catch me.

  Six…

  I still couldn’t hear anything. Maybe they were walking in the wrong direction. Maybe they were sneaking around behind me. With no way to know for sure, all I could do was wait.

  Nine…

  Still nothing.

  Ten…

  Go!

  There was no use in trying to tip toe out of there. The rustling of the dry leaves would give anyone away.

  Somewhere along the way, I found my second wind. I reached the edge of the tree line in record time. They must have heard, because there was a heavy rustling from behind.

  “Shit! She got behind us!”

  When I reached the broken fence I barely slowed down. Once on the other side, I took a look back. They were just emerging from the woods. I had a good lead. I was going to beat them to the van.

  A dull ache started to fill my knee. Maybe it was from the running… maybe it was from the accident. I wouldn’t let it slow me down.

  My feet almost went out from under me when I jumped to a stop on the gravel shoulder of the road. I had to catch myself against the side mirror.

  The sliding door was still wide open from when I escaped. It felt so weird to be using the van for safe haven, when twenty minutes ago all I wanted to do was find a way out of it.

  I slammed it shut behind me. Once inside, the first thing I did was lock all the doors. Just in case the movie cliché where the car doesn’t start came true, I didn’t want to be unprepared. I got to the driver’s seat. It would be the first time in my life I drove anything bigger than my little car, but I was going to drive the hell out of it. Unless…

  No keys.

  They had taken the keys. My string of luck was at its end. I watched as they made the side of the road and stopped at the front end of the van. All I could do was hope for help.

  The one from the passenger seat pounded on the hood. He was bleeding heavily from a cut on his forehead, but otherwise seemed uncompromised.

  “Unlock the fucking door. There’s nowhere else for you to go.”

  “Fuck you!” I yelled through the rolled up window. “Leave me alone!”

  The driver, “Dime” is what his friend called him, was making his way to each door, checking to see if it was left unlocked.

  “Don’t make me break a window,” he shouted.

  His nose was a mangled mess. I’d shattered it with the kick.

  “How’s your nose?” I screamed back.

  That sent him into a rage. He started banging on the large rear window with his fist.

  “Get out! Get out! Get out!”

  It reminded me of the way an angry child acts when he can’t have what he wants.

  Still, no one drove down the road. It could be hours before another car came through.

  I had to think.

  Cell phone!

  One of them had taken it out of my pocket when they grabbed me, but it ha
d to be in here somewhere. I looked in the cup holders first. Nope. Then, I checked the small duffle bag in the passenger side foot well. There was nothing inside but clothes.

  Think Addy. Where is it?

  I popped open the glove compartment, but that was empty, too.

  “Open the door, bitch! Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Because if you don’t let us in…”

  C’mon, c’mon… it has to be here.

  I frantically scanned my surroundings. They had to have put it somewhere.

  The door! I checked the pocket in the driver’s side first. Nothing. I leaned across to the passenger side. He was standing right outside the door. We came nose-to-nose against the window. He had hate in his eyes.

  There it was!

  Tucked behind the manual was my last lifeline.

  I yanked it free and held it up to show him.

  “Back off,” I yelled. “I’m calling the cops.”

  The battery indicator was green. I had full bars.

  The first number that came up on my call history was the one Hale had given me. I hit the call button without even thinking.

  “Addy? Where the hell are you?”

  His voice soothed me.

  “Hale! I don’t know. Two guys… they grabbed me. I’m stuck in a van out on some-”

  There was a tap at the window. I stopped to see what it was. When my eyes raised, they were staring down the barrel of a black handgun.

  Having a gun pointed at you makes you do silly things.

  “Put the phone down.”

  I took it away from my ear and watched him.

  I couldn’t hear Hale impatiently calling my name from the other end of the phone.

  “Addy? Adeline… are you there? Where are you?”

  “Down,” he said again, as he motioned toward the door. “Or I’ll blow your head right off your shoulders.”

  I knew he wasn’t bluffing by the look in his eyes. My hand involuntarily went back toward my ear. But what could I say? I couldn’t tell Hale where I was any more than I could tell the police.

  The gun fired.

  The shot shook me to my core. A loud bang, followed by the sound of breaking glass. After that, everything turned into a high-pitched hum.