Running with the Devil: Plantain Series Book One

by Amelia Oliver

  I see the texts from my dad that Maven’s dad is dead, that she needs me to come back. I can’t imagine how broke down she was at the news, knowing Spiney took her home, and how Brayden’s plan unfolded. Spiney probably called Brayden and told him he was bringing Maven home, that I was gone, that they could get her. My sweet girl who was most likely in shock over her dad, hurting, her defenses down. That’s the only way Brayden’s ever been able to roll up on her, because when she’s at her best, no one can fuck with her. The three of us are speeding through the desert, on the same freeway as Maven. They’re thirty miles ahead of us, but we’re closing the distance. We will get to her. We will get to her before anything more can happen to her.

  The adrenaline pumping in my veins is like I’ve never felt before, not ever. Not even when being shot at, or seeing Brayden trying to rape Maven. I’m on a whole other level that’s only growing in intensity as the miles go by, and I know we’re getting closer. I can see the dust ahead from the truck tires, and it slowly begins to come into focus.

  The sun’s beginning to set, and I feel like its rays are scorching through my cut. The heat reaching unbearable, and I can only imagine how hot it is in the fucking trailer. I’ve come up with a way to stop the truck, I just hope it doesn’t kill her. The three of us catch up to Chilly who’s been following the truck from a safe distance, the four of us becoming a horizontal line and I feel for my gun underneath my leather jacket. The truck begins to speed up and the dust being kicked up from the tires is almost blinding, as I press the throttle and speed past the truck. As I pass by, the driver fires at me from the open window, the bullets tinging off the metal of my bike. Still, I speed ahead and continue on, getting about a half a mile ahead of the truck, before I stop at the side of the road and position myself for the truck to pass. The driver is still attempting to shoot at me, as I raise my nine mil and focus. My heart beats in my ears as I squeeze the trigger in rapid fire, hitting the left front and back tires, instantly they hiss and pop.

  The driver starts to lose control as he veers off the road and towards a grouping of rocks, the speed not slowing. The vehicle kicks up even more dust, before the entire thing rolls twice before landing on its side. The engine’s smoking and I hear coughing as I take off running towards it. The dust blankets everything but as I get closer, I can make out the back of the trailer and the door is pushed up half way open. I’m running and hear the boots of my brothers behind me, but there’s smoke and dirt thick in the air and I can barely see. I look inside the trailer to see Max lying lifeless, but I shoot him anyway, the shot loud in the cavernous space. I hear another shot from outside and as I move to the driver’s side of the truck, Joey’s pulling back with his gun from the window. I don’t see the others, where the fuck is Maven? Maybe Chilly’s wrong, and maybe this isn’t the right truck.

  “D!” Drag yells and I move around to the other side of the vehicle, Spiney’s standing there with his face bleeding as one of his arms hangs lifeless at his side. Then my heart stops. Brayden is holding Maven up on her knees by the back of her hair, her wrists tied behind her back, with a gun to her temple.

  She’s dirty and bloody, but her eyes are open and she’s looking at me. God, she looks strong and aware, even though the whites of her eyes are blood red, and it enrages me that she’s only in my t-shirt. When our eyes meet, I’m stopped from my frantic pace and I just…look at her. I want nothing more than to take her into my arms, to clean her wounds and kiss her, to protect her. Then the asshole starts to speak and I look up to see his nose is broken, blood’s pouring down his face. They both look fucked up from the crash and Maven even more so, like she’s been hurt prior to the crash, dark blood on her forehead and nose. Her neck is covered in red marks, from rope or… hands.

  “Don’t come any closer asshole,” Brayden says.

  We outnumber him, but he knows no one will fuck around with a gun at Maven’s head.

  “What do you want?” Joey asks.

  “I want this bitch dead, and that fucker too,” he says, lifting his chin towards me.

  “Problem is, there are more of us,” Joey says.

  “I got people out there, they’re coming, and you won’t follow us. You won’t come until I call. But how about you two join Children of the Reaper, your shit club is about to be taken over, probably best to convert while you still can. Come on, you two have put in enough work, kill these two with me and you have my word I’ll make you V.P’s.”

  I grind my teeth and return my eyes to Maven’s. She looks calm, albeit in pain, but she’s not panicking. How does she do that? I know I look a fucking mess, because Ifeel a fucking mess. She’s staring at me like she won’t ever see me again, well that won’t fuckin’ happen. The longer we share the connection, her eyes slowly start to water and she’s pleading to me with them. She’s not worried for herself, but for me. Wellfuck that.

  “How about fuck yourself,” Drag replies to the offer.

  “Stupid,” Brayden laughs.

  The dust’s still everywhere and I know I can’t get a clear shot, but I have to do something. I’m sure as shit not going to let this asshole take her from me. As I begin to take off running towards Brayden, knowing he will shoot me and not her, then Joey can fire at Brayden. From out of nowhere, Bagheera comes running from behind the truck and bites Brayden on the upper arm, causing him to drop the gun and fall onto his back. Joey runs to Maven as I move towards Brayden and begin to hit his screaming face with the butt of my gun, before I drop my gun and begin hitting with my fists. Bagheera’s biting and yanking and growling, and I feel as much of an animal as he is. I feel no pain in my hands, nothing but ruthless, savage, revenge.

  I keep hitting him until he’s lifeless, a bloody smashed mess. Bagheera has his teeth clamped on Brayden’s neck, then suddenly he releases, limping over to Maven. I stand and follow, Joey’s freed her hands and she’s sitting on the ground. She looks so small in my shirt, while Bagheera licks her face and cleans her. I fall to my knees and instantly our arms wrap around one another, tears sting my eyes as I bury my face into her hair and inhale. Behind us, Joey and Drag have their guns pointing at a kneeling Spiney, one hand in the air in surrender. I close my eyes and savor the embrace of Maven, hearing her breathe and her heart beat. Shots ring out and echo, then a thud hits the ground as Spiney falls, followed by a vehicle coming to a quick stop bedside us, kicking up even more dust into the air.

  “Dornan, we have to go!” Milton yells and I turn to see him in a black SUV, getting out of the driver’s side, as he takes in the scene before him. He doesn’t say anything, just takes in the carnage.

  “Does she need a doctor?” he finally asks looking down at Maven, I pull back and run my battered hands down her hair, taking in her bloody and bruised face.

  That fucker deserved more than what he got for doing this to her. One of her eyes is beginning to swell but she looks up at me and shakes her head, wincing before grabbing the back of her neck.

  “No,” I tell Milton.

  “Then we have to go.”

  Joey, Drag, Chilly, and Maven are all looking at him with confusion, not getting why a cop is trying to get us away from a murder scene.

  “Do you have everything?” I ask Milton.

  “Yeah, it’s all in the truck, we gotta go. Justice sent out a call on the radio that Maven was trying to run, I’m only ten minutes ahead of them.”

  I stand Maven up and Milton takes her hand, leading her towards the SUV. Bagheera following closely behind them, as I walk to my brothers.

  “Follow us,” I tell them and they all nod.

  “Joey, get my plates-”

  “Got it bro,” he says as he opens his knife blade and heads towards my bike.

  Maven’s in the backseat, slumped against the window. I sit beside her and pull her into my arms and onto my lap, as Bagheera jumps over the backseat to occupy the space beside us. He’s covered in blood and I raise my hand to pet his head, while Maven tucks her face into my neck. We take off,
and I look back to see our brothers following.

  I know that I can’t save her from the world, I almost didn’t save her today. But this is one thing I can do, and we will run for as long as we need to to keep her safe. We drive for hours, and it’s past midnight by the time we stop. Maven’s been in and out of sleep, but she assures me she’s fine, even if she can barely get the words out. Her voice is gravelly and weak, and I have a feeling that the red marks around her throat have something to do with that. Milton checks us into a motel in the middle of nowhere, and I leave Maven in the car as I walk over to Joey.

  “We gotta stay here for the night, head over to the Devil’s Backbone clubhouse, they know you’re coming.”

  “What about you brother?” he asks.

  The three men look exhausted from sitting on their bikes this entire time without stopping, but they’re our brothers and we would follow each other into hell for eternity if one asked.

  “Maven and I will leave in a few hours. I can’t tell you where we’re going, but I’ll contact you when we’re settled.”

  “What about him?” Drag asks. “What got up his ass to help?” Looking beyond me at Milton walking back to us from the motel office.

  “Family history.”

  I carry Maven into our ground floor room and set her on the bed, Bagheera following. I take a set of keys and two duffel bags from Milton, shaking hands as he also gives me a manila envelope. I don’t really know what to say since just thank you seems useless. I don’t really care if he only did this because he felt he had to, he still did it, and I’ll never be able to thank him enough.

  “Take care,” he offers before getting into his SUV and pulling back onto the freeway.

  I grab the ice bucket and fill it with water in the bathroom sink, setting it on the floor for Bagheera, who begins to lap at it until it’s gone and I refill it. Then I turn on the water in the tub, pulling the cheap plastic shower curtain out of the way. Maven’s laying on the bed, not moving from the position I’d set her down in. After removing her clothes, I place her in the tub, her head falling back against the rim as I rub the bar of soap over her skin, removing the dried blood that’s caked on. The gash on her forehead and a cut under her eye are the worst, I think they might need stitches.

  The water’s almost black when I’m done cleaning her, and I wrap her in a towel. Grabbing a shirt from her bag and slipping it over her head. Then laying her down under the covers after brushing her hair.

  I clean Bagheera off the best I can, checking his body for any injuries. Other than some chunks of fur missing from around his neck, he seems fine. He settles on the floor in front of the motel door before resting his head, then it’s my time to shower. I feel I’ve lived a thousand lives today, having to really think back on how the day started, with Maven in my bed. My hands hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, and I open and close my fingers several times under the hot water to sooth the ache.

  Most of the night is spent sitting up watching her sleep, making sure no one pulls into the motel that isn’t checking in or staying. The sky’s just turned to blue in the beginning of the sun rising, when Maven finally wakes. Her eye’s swollen more, but the cuts on her face have finally stopped bleeding. When she looks up at me, I know that I’d follow her to the ends of the earth and never regret anything, just so she can wake up next to me. She sits up and presses her palm against the wound on her forehead and winces, I lean forward and kiss her cheek, moving her hand to my shoulder before cupping my face. We stare into each other’s eyes, exchanging all we can’t verbalize.

  “I want to shower,” she says with a hoarse voice before getting up slowly from the bed.

  “Do you need help?” I ask as she stands to get her bearings, shaking her head stiffly, knowing he must’ve done a number to her neck.

  The rage simmers in me even though there’s some relief in knowing that asshole’s dead, and that I’m the one who did it. I doze off while Maven’s showering, then wake to her sitting on the bed. She must’ve used something to seal the large gashes on her face.

  “I went to the office and got some super glue,” she says, answering my thought. “And I made sure no one was around when I left the room, took your gun too.”

  I sigh and sit up, looking her over, taking in all her cuts and bruises. The skin around her eyes are peppered with the redness of blood vessels being broken, the whites of her eyes clouded with blood. My fists tighten in wanting to know, and not wanting to know what the fuck he did to her.

  “I’m fine, we’re alive Dornan,” she says running her nose along mine.

  All I want to do is touch her and feel that she’s really with me, that she’s alive and so am I.

  “When did you pack bags for us?” she asks in confusion.

  “Last night, after we made love. I waited until you were asleep and went back to the house.”

  She nods slightly, before asking,

  “What do we do now?”

  I kiss her lips gently, trying not to disturb a small split on the plump part of her lower lip.

  “So when you told me about Justice and that you were going to turn yourself in, I asked Milton to return the favor that your dad did for his family.”

  I can see a flicker of pain in her eyes at the mention of her dad, but she doesn’t move her eyes from mine.

  “He got us new identities, dug into the database and gave me two names and social security numbers of a male and female who died in the 1950’s. Then proceeded to make licenses, birth certificates, and all the documentation we need to...not be us.”

  As I’m talking, her mouth slowly opens as her eyes widen.

  “I told you I was going to do everything in my power to not let you go to prison Maven.”

  She swallows and looks down at my lips, before nodding and looking back up at me.

  “But, you-you don’t have to do this with me-”

  “I will go anywhere, be anyone, so long as I’m with you...nothing else matters.”

  A single tear falls from each of her honey colored eyes, before I swipe them away with my thumbs. She nods again, sniffling and blinking back the other tears threatening to fall.

  “Where are we going?”

  EPILOGUE

  SIX YEARS LATER

  *Maven*

  We’ve been in Alaska for five and a half years, the first six months on the run, we did just that, run. We weren’t sure where to go, Dornan had planned everything about us getting away, and even a car was at the motel we stayed at that first night waiting for us in the lot. Yet we didn’t know where to hide, nowhere felt safe, and every time we contacted Chilly he said my name was still hot on Justice’s list. We went to Dornan’s sister Kendall’s ranch in Montana from there, but then the fear they’d find us there was so overwhelming that we left after three days. Finally, we ended up in Alaska, where it seemed like most people go to run from something. Where the people there don’t ask many questions, and accept that you’re not from around there.

  It took a while to get used to the weather, freezing cold, daylight for months or nighttime for months, all took its toll. Besides all that, we had new identities, not only new names but not being able to tell our coworkers or neighbors anything personal about us, caused us to seclude ourselves. Every time we heard or saw a motorcycle we’d both watch. I knew Dornan was longing for that freedom as I was, but it was something we couldn’t chance with buying bikes.

  The first year was the hardest, I felt like my old life and everything I knew besides Dornan was dead. Sure we talked with Chilly, but even then, Dornan didn’t contact him until we’d been settled for seven months. The absence of being able to contact anyone ourselves, or to maintain the relationships we had, felt final.

  I grasped at any information about our friends and family that I could, even if the conversations with Chilly were limited. Sven had a stroke two months after we’d left, but with rehab and therapy he recovered. The stress at not being able to see him was one thing, but it felt terrible that Dornan wasn�
�t there for his family. I felt guilty that I not only lived this ‘life,’ but that Dornan had chosen to go along with me. Why anyone would decide to leave everything for one person, mystified me. Yes, he loved me, but to give up everything for a life of uncertainty never made sense to me.

  Depression set in and I stayed in bed a lot those first few months, watching the sun rise and set, not eating or sleeping. Just lying there, day in and day out. I couldn’t even listen to music anymore. What once brought me solace and memories, did nothing but cause pain. Dornan picked up odd jobs and kept himself busy, while I could barely manage to shower daily. I knew my state ate away at him, plaguing him with the idea that maybe leaving was the worst thing he could do for me. I wanted to reassure him, that yes, he did the right thing but that selfish bitch side of me couldn’t talk to him about it. Until one night when Dornan got sick of my pity party.

  “You’ve been in here all day again? he asked, walking into our bedroom.

  He was fresh from the shower after being gone all day, helping a coworker on their home renovation. I remained on my side of the bed, looking out the window at the sunset. He let out a long sigh, the drawer to our dresser opened and closed and then I heard him messing with something on the bedside table. When the music from my iPod started just as he yanked the blankets off me, I rolled onto my back about to yell at him, when he gave me a look I knew meant to keep my mouth shut.

  “You have to stop this Maven,” he said looking down at me, naked and still slightly damp and God if his body wasn’t better than it had ever been. He’d been working out more since we didn’t have much else to do, his muscles hard and shadowed in the light provided by the side table lamp. I opened my mouth to speak but he stopped me.

  “Shut up.”

  My mouth closed instantly.