by Rye Hart
I nodded, feeling a little more relaxed at his reassurance. “Okay,” I said.
Dylan glanced up as Jessica came down the stairs, her hair wet.
She was dressed in the clothes I’d loaned her, though they were just a little big on her. The poor girl looked completely malnourished, though I suppose that could have been due to drug addiction. I’d spotted some track marks on her arms while I was cleaning her up. Dylan glanced at her and smiled softly.
“Hey there. We were just talking about how this was going to go. We’re not going to let that prick touch you, okay? We need you to show me where you live and then maybe we can get you to your family?”
Her cheeks flushed and tears came to her eyes. “I don’t have any,” she admitted.
“We’ll find you a place here then,” he said softly, reaching out and offering his hand. “You can stay with someone here until we can get you back on your feet.”
“Really?” she whispered, her eyes wide.
Dylan smiled and nodded. “Really,” he assured her.
Jessica seemed nervous but was coming around. Having another woman around was helping, as she had obvious reasons for being nervous around men. She moved over close to me and looked up at me, her eyes full of sadness and a strange kind of regret I couldn’t really place.
“We’re going to get make sure your husband never touches you again, okay?” I assured, grinning down at her. “Dylan and his crew are really good at what they do. I promise you won’t have to worry about him ever again.”
She smiled a little and nodded, blushing and looking down. “Right,” she whispered, wiping her eyes. “I’ve just, I’ve never had anyone go to bat for me like this before.”
“Well, you aren’t alone anymore.”
She nodded and I led her outside where everyone else was waiting. She got on Snake’s bike and soon enough we were following them to the house she’d just escaped. I was excited to help her and to take part in what Dylan did, but I couldn’t get the feeling of uneasiness out of my head.
Something didn’t feel right, but I just couldn’t place my finger on it.
Chapter Eighteen
We traveled along a bumpy dirt road and every time we hit a pothole, my body would jolt forward and I’d gasp, my teeth knocking together. I held onto Dylan tightly, my forehead pressed against his back. My stomach was turning over and over again and I wasn’t sure why, but I was nervous. Probably because I’d never faced confrontation like this before.
An old dusty trailer finally came into view and I glanced over at Jessica. Her own gaze was one of terrified unease. I’d never really dealt with abuse victims before so I didn’t know what to expect from her. I just thought she was brave for facing her fears and showing us where her husband was. I couldn’t even imagine how I’d feel if someone asked me to do that. Luckily I’d never have to. Dylan was a dream.
We pulled into the driveway that led up to the beaten trailer. The closer we got, however, the more worn and abandoned the trailer appeared to be. I chewed my lip, feeling more than a little nervous as we parked our bikes. Something just wasn’t right; it didn’t look like anyone had lived in this trailer for years.
Mold grew up the side of it and the roof had caved in from rust and rain. The grass was too tall and the door was barely hanging on by one hinge. Dylan looked just as concerned and glanced over at Jessica.
“Are you sure this is your place?” he asked, not looking convinced.
Jessica was chewing on her bottom lip now and I could see little drops of blood starting to form where her teeth bit into the soft flesh. “Um, yeah. This is my house,” she said.
Oh, fuck. Something was very wrong. I was a second away from making Dylan turn back when I heard the distinct noise of gun hammers being pulled back. A chorus of them echoed in my ears as a group of bikers stepped out from around the trailer, training their guns on us.
Fear coursed through my veins and I felt an icy coolness in my limbs. My throat was dry and my eyes were wet with tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks. I wanted to play it cool, I wanted to be a badass and I wanted Dylan to be proud of me, but in this moment all I could think to do was curl up and hide behind him, dropping my head between his shoulders.
I could feel the stare of the other bikers as they took us in, clearly trying to assess whether or not we would put up a fight. I could hear Dylan’s heart racing and I knew this was bad. Most of the bikers on our side were unarmed. Dylan and a few of the others had guns, but we were vastly outnumbered.
“What do you want, Coyote?” Dylan asked, his voice low in his throat.
“You know what we want, Dylan. Don’t play coy. I don’t have time for your bullshit. You guys are out here playing good samaritans, but I have bigger fish to fry.”
I glanced around Dylan’s shoulder for just a moment, wanting to see the man we were up against. He was a tall, burly guy with at least a hundred pounds and twenty years on Dylan. He was hairy from the top of his head, down to his exposed chest. He was everything I’d imagined when I thought ‘biker’, and not in a good way. These were the guys I’d spent my life being afraid of.
“We want the girl,” Coyote said.
“Jessica? Who is she to you?” Dylan asked.
Jessica hopped off the bike and dropped her head, scurrying over to Coyote’s. I watched, stunned and hurt as the woman I’d taken under my wing abandoned us. Coyote smiled and pulled a little baggie of crushed up rocks and handed it to the girl. He was paying her with meth.
“Thanks for bringing them here, doll. They’re a lot easier to handle when they have their guard down.”
I had to bite back a snarl at that comment, glaring at Coyote from around Dylan. Coyote just chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you going to hand her over easy? Or are we going to have to take her from you?” he asked menacingly.
“Go to hell!” Dylan spat, his lips drawn back into a snarl.
“Your choice,” Coyote said casually.
His men drew their weapons and soon every single person on our side had a gun trained at their heads. A little red dot from a laser sight was poised at the center of Dylan’s head, but he didn’t flinch. He was ready to lay his life down for me, but I wasn’t going to let that happen.
I jumped up, eyes wide. “WAIT!” I gasped, standing beside the bike.
Dylan swung his head around and stared at me, wide-eyed and confused by my actions. “What the hell are you doing?!” he snapped, an edge of fear just under his words.
I looked at Dylan and I knew my eyes were glistening with tears. I knew I looked terrified because I was. My hands shook just a little as I stared Coyote down. “Wait…”
Coyote cocked a brow and looked me up and down. “I’m waiting…”
“I’ll go with you, okay?” I whispered, my voice shaking from the effort of trying to keep my calm. “I’ll go with you.”
“Like hell you will Alex!” Dylan yelled.
I swung around and stared at him, an intensity burning in my belly that I’d never felt before. “I am not your responsibility.” I threw my hand out, motioning to the other bikers parked around me. “These men are your responsibility. You’re their leader and if you don’t let me go with them, all of your men are going to be dead! The men you promised to lead and protect! I won’t be the reason you break that promise! You owe them everything, and so do I, so don’t try and stop me, Dylan. You told me that you’re out there to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves. I can. I’m making my own decision and don’t you dare get your ass killed by being rash!” I said, my throat going dry.
Dylan just stared at me, though he didn’t respond. I took his silence as a sign of understanding. He knew it just as well as I did that either I went with Coyote or we all died. I turned and walked towards the line of armed bikers, glancing back at Dylan before Coyote grabbed me around the waist and threw me onto his bike.
As the bike roared to life, I heard the sound of Dylan’s anguished scream.
Chapter Nineteen
I tried hard to make sense of what was happening. Why did Coyote and his men want me? Was he just trying to hurt Dylan? But that didn’t make sense, since Dylan and I had just figured out last night what we meant to each other. I couldn’t say for sure, but I had the sick feeling this had something to do with my father.
We rode into the hills well into the night, not stopping until we made it to an abandoned warehouse. By the time we got there, I'd pretty much figured out they weren't going to kill me so I had some of my spunk back.
"A warehouse. How original. No one will find us here," I quipped.
Coyote stopped walking, clearly surprised by my sudden sarcasm, but not amused by it in the least. He looked at me for a long moment before his hand snapped forward and he slapped me across the face so hard I stumbled back, shocked by the unexpected contact.
He yanked me closer, grabbed a set of handcuffs off his belt, and slapped them on me easily, not replying to my sarcastic remark. They led me into the warehouse and we walked straight back before Coyote pushed me up against a wall and grabbed his gun, pointing it right at me.
"I'm not going to run. Where do you think I'm going to go? You don't have to point that fucking thing at me," I snapped, spitting out a mouthful of blood from the slap.
"I know you aren't going to run, but I like watching you squirm," he said with a grin. "You don't like the gun and that's exactly why I'm pointing it at you."
I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being right so I closed my mouth tightly for a moment, deciding I should do something useful with my time, like figure out how to get out of here.
"Staging a kidnapping is impressive and all, but couldn't you have picked a better victim? Like a senator's daughter or something?" I asked.
Coyote glanced up and cocked a brow. "We wanted you."
"But why?” I asked. “Who the fuck am I?”
He hummed, clearly think through his answer. "Your daddy owes us money and we figured the only way to recoup our losses was to get our hands on you."
I snorted and shook my head. "You're barking up the wrong tree, pal. My dad doesn't give a shit about me. He's not going to put up my ransom."
Coyote grinned at me "Oh, we know that. We know that all too well. We went and saw your dear old dad. We only had to break three fingers before he told us where you were. How do you think we knew where to come looking?”
My heart sank into my stomach at the news, but I tried not to let it show. I looked away and swallowed thickly. “If you aren’t planning a ransom, how the hell do you think you’re going to get money from me?”
Coyote grinned wickedly and leaned in closer, watching me carefully, taking in the look of fear on my face. I knew there was no hiding it anymore. “Men all over the world would pay a pretty penny to fuck a gorgeous American girl like yourself. The way I see it, it’s the only fair trade I can possibly make. There's no other way to get our money back from your dad,” he said, licking his lips as he looked me up and down.
The look in his eyes made my skin crawl and I whimpered, backing away from him, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. He grabbed my collar and yanked me closer. I yelped as my shirt slid up and the rough concrete wall scratched my back, leaving angry, pulsating red marks behind.
“You’re worth more than you think gorgeous,” he purred. “We’re going to take you to some nice Russian men and they’re going to put you in a storage container with a bunch of other pretty, naked girls. Then they’re going to sail you across the ocean and sell you to someone who will put you to work in a brothel. You’ll work and work until you’re used up and then they’ll either put a bullet in your head or put you to work in a sweatshop.”
He was grinning at me now and I was doing my best to stay strong, but I knew I was shivering and I knew my bottom lip was shaking. I was scared and there was no way around it. I was fucking terrified.
“I figure they’ll be more than willing to pay about a quarter of a million for you. Maybe a little more,” he smirked and ran his fingers along my cheek. “You’re so young and supple.”
A sudden rage lit up inside of me. My fate was sealed no matter what I did and I knew Coyote wouldn’t kill me. I was worth too much alive. You couldn’t sell a corpse into sex slavery. As he caressed my cheek I turned my head and sunk my teeth into his hand. He yowled in pain and yanked his hand away, holding the bleeding appendage and staring at it in shock.
I spit out the blood that had coated my teeth and tongue when I bit into the soft flesh, glaring at him with a certain determination. “I’m not going to make this easy for you,” I whispered between gritted teeth.
“You little cunt!” he reached out and grabbed me, his meaty hands wrapping around my throat.
I gasped as I was lifted off the ground, my airway suddenly closed off completely in his strong grasp. My eyes rolled back and I whimpered as I felt my vision starting to fade. My sight was reduced to a narrow tunnel and blood rushed into my ears. I could hear my own heartbeat as I gasped uselessly for breath. There was no air getting to my lungs and they were starting to burn with a desperation I’d never felt before.
The world began to slip from my grasp, but even as I thought I was dying, there was only really one thought going through my head. Dying would be better than being sold into slavery. This seemed like a more tolerable end.
Chapter Twenty
I felt as if I’d slipped into a deep sleep. I was floating, warm and safe. I sighed softly and as I allowed my eyes to flutter open I looked around and saw that I was on a beach. How the hell was I on the beach? Had the whole ordeal just been a vivid nightmare?
As I turned my head I saw Dylan wading in the clear water, his arms outstretched for me. I stood, enjoying the feel of the warm sand between my toes as I ran towards him, wanting to feel his embrace. I wanted to feel the safety of his arms around me.
I stumbled into the water, nearly falling flat on my face as I threw myself into his arms. He held me close, pulling me to his chest and kissing the top of my head. Tears were streaming down my face and I looked up at him, reaching up to touch his tanned cheeks.
“Oh God, Dylan, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” I whispered, staring into his handsome face.
“I’m right here darling,” he said tenderly, pulling me close.
I could hear his heart beating and it made me sob with joy. “You’re here, you’re really here. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for before. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m sorry I walked away and went with them, but I was so scared! I couldn’t let you die!” my words were spilling out in a stream.
He stroked my hair and kissed me tenderly. “Shhh, it’s okay, Alex. I know why you did it. I don’t blame you,” he whispered, pushing me gently away.
I looked up at him, my lips trembling. There was so much I wanted to say to him, but I couldn’t get it out. He stroked my hair out of my face. “I need you to promise me one thing,” he said.
“What is it?”
“Promise me you won’t give up.”
I was confused by his words and gasped as he grabbed me and pushed me under the water. Darkness enveloped me and confusion clouded my mind. I drifted into the dark abyss, wondering if this was death.
Suddenly my eyes flew open and I was staring up at the bright morning sky. I was in the bed of a pickup truck, though I could hear motorcycles roaring on either side of me. My throat hurt and the pain brought back the memory of being lifted off the ground, an impossibly strong hand wrapped around my neck. I groaned and rolled over onto my side, looking around.
The land was green and the hills stretched out as far as I could see. I figured we were still in Tennessee, but I had no idea where. I forced myself to sit up, groaning at the effort it took. I managed to steady myself as the truck bounced on the road, looking around to see bikers surrounding the truck as if they were protecting it.
I frowned, starting to feel a surge of hopelessness all over again. I didn’t thi
nk I was going to get out of this one. As I started to lose myself in thought, the truck jolted forward and I gasped, grabbing the side to keep myself upright.
The truck rolled to a stop and so did the bikes. Coyote hopped out of the truck, cursing loudly and kicking the flat tire. He leaned down to inspect it and the moment he ducked down, bullets started flying. Within moments, most of the gang lie dead beside their bikes, perfectly placed shots between their eyes.
Coyote jumped into action, his eyes wide as he tried to figure out what was going on. A stray bullet hit the back window of the truck and the glass shattered into pieces. I quickly grabbed one of the larger pieces, hiding it in my sleeve, easily ignoring the way it cut into my skin. That was nothing compared to what I’d been through.
I was thinking about making a run for it when Coyote grabbed me and pulled me out of the bed of the truck, a gun held to my temple. “COME OUT! SHOW YOURSELVES RIGHT NOW!” he screamed.
Dylan and the rest of the gang rose from the valley between two hills, wearing camouflage and ghillie suits. My eyes widened and my breath hitched. He’d come for me. Dylan grinned and threw his hands out.
“Did you think you were going to get rid of us that easily?” he asked, starting to close the distance between himself and Coyote.
“You stay back!” Coyote’s voice was starting to shake and despite the fact that he had a gun at my temple, I found it oddly satisfying that he was so shaken.
“Put the gun down, Coyote. You’re out numbered. I have three snipers trained on you. They had the command to shoot at will and if you harm a hair on her head, you’ll be full of holes. If you hand her over now, we’ll let you live.”
I realized I was in a very precarious situation and the last thing I wanted to do was put myself or Dylan in any more danger. I stayed dead still, my eyes trained on Dylan.
“You’re lying. If you really had snipers, I’d be dead already,” Coyote growled, starting to walk me back towards the cab of the truck.