Ride Hard

by Amity Cross

  I waited until I was alone to dial the number. This conversation wasn’t going to be pretty, not by a long shot.

  He answered after five rings.

  “What.”

  The President of Fortitude MC wasn’t the warmest of men. No one called him by his name, only Boss or Sir. He expected results, and when he didn’t get them, he left a trail of blood behind him. I couldn’t blame Sloane for wanting to get as far away from the guy as possible. She was the image of him in her coloring, but her eyes…they must’ve been from her mother.

  Her eyes were soft and intelligent. Her father’s eyes were cold, dead, and full of violence.

  “It’s Chaser.”

  Silence. Then, “I expected you back a week ago.”

  I could hear the veiled threat in his voice, and I narrowed my eyes.

  “We ran into some trouble on the road,” I explained. “They targeted her in her home and three times since. Last night, they ran us off the road, totaled the car, and tried to put bullets in both of us.”

  “Is she alive?” His voice was cold, and I scowled.

  “Yes.”

  “You left a mess behind. I’m disappointed, Chaser.”

  “There was no time—”

  “I’m not talking about the trail of bodies. Those fuckers can rot in the street for all I care. I’m talking about that blonde bitch. Betty’s friend the whore.”

  I frowned, then smacked my fist against the desk as I realized he was talking about that bitch Yvette. Sloane’s friend from the strip club. She was still looking out for her, which was usually an admirable quality, but not in this case. It was another problem on a long list of fucked up shit that was plaguing my life.

  “If she keeps causing trouble with the cops, then I’ll have to send someone to clean up,” he said. “I don’t like killing women, especially single mothers.”

  I didn’t doubt him for one second. I also didn’t believe the last statement, either. Emotional manipulation was one of his finer skills. Veiled threats were another.

  “I’ll handle it,” I said.

  “You better. You have three days, Chaser. When that fucking sun sets, I want Betty at Fortitude. If you can’t deliver, then our deal is forfeit. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.” I gritted my teeth as the line went dead.

  Fuck. Sloane would never forgive me if I let anything happen to her friend. I was already almost in the doghouse, but this would be the nail in the coffin.

  “We’re stuck,” I said, emerging from the office. Sloane was twirling a dusty rack of postcards, and the woman was watching her as if she were worried about her shoplifting. “How far is the closest bus stop? Is there one out here?”

  “Nope. Nothing but falling down buildings and rotting shit,” the woman said.

  “Great,” Sloane drawled.

  “You’re a ways from the interstate here,” the woman went on. “If I were you, I’d get to Tucumcari. They have all sorts of things there. They even have a McDonalds.”

  Sloane snorted, and I shot her a warning glare.

  “Is there anyone around that might give us a ride?” I asked. “I’m willing to pay.”

  “Sure. I can phone Tucker. He’s always looking for an extra dollar. Can’t promise you, though. Those boys were out hunting last night.”

  “Thank you.”

  As the woman shuffled out back, Sloane gave me a look.

  “Thank you?” she asked. “Since when do you say thank you?”

  “When I want something,” I drawled.

  We stared each other down in a silent battle, my mind going to the gutter…and back to the lake. It took a special sort of relationship to withstand the fighting to get to the fucking. For Sloane and me, the fuck at the end of a battle of wills was the best kind of orgasm. It was all I could do not to bend her over the counter and fuck her tight ass right now.

  I smirked, realizing I hadn’t come in that hole yet. When she bit her bottom lip, I knew she was thinking the exact same thing I was.

  Dirty minds thought alike.

  “Tucker will be along in a few minutes,” the woman called out from the back office, breaking apart our heated eye fucking.

  “See?” I said to Sloane. “Asking nicely gets you all sorts of shit.”

  Chapter 24

  Sloane

  If I’d known all it took to get Chaser to give a shit was to save his life, then I would’ve done it a lot sooner.

  We endured an hour drive in a truck that smelled like dirt and stale sweat. Chaser sat in the middle, separating me from the greasy hands of Tucker Cawley, who turned out to be a thirty-something-year-old farm boy who’d forgotten what soap was.

  By the time we were dropped off at the Greyhound bus stop at Tucumcari, I was ready to cut anyone who got in my way. My mood was so foul even Chaser kept me at arm’s length.

  My legs ached, my feet felt like they were covered in blisters, and my eyes were scratchy from lack of sleep. Then there was the crick in my neck from sleeping in the doorway of the post office in the middle of nowhere. Long story short, I felt like a hunk of shit.

  We lingered outside of the McDonalds the post office lady thought was so special, watching cars inch through the drive-thru.

  “Who did you call back at the post office?” I asked, my wits finally coming back after wolfing down a cheeseburger.

  “I spoke to your father,” Chaser replied, avoiding eye contact.

  He looked like shit too. His clothes were rumpled, his hair was messier than ever, and the stubble on his chin was looking more like a beard with every passing hour. The knees of his jeans were ripped and dirty like mine, too.

  My mouth fell open. “And you’re telling me this now because?”

  “Your friend hasn’t let you go.”

  “Yvette?” I seethed, resisting the urge to slap Chaser around the face. “He threatened her, didn’t he?”

  “She needs to drop it,” he drawled. “You’re the only one who can—”

  “Fuck you!” I exclaimed, causing passers-by to glance warily at us.

  “Don’t fuck me, fuck your father.”

  “You’re cut from the same cloth. You’re a killer, Chaser. Plain and simple.”

  “I only kill when threatened.”

  “That’s a lie. You kill when ordered to like the little bitch you are.”

  “Then why am I warning you about your friend now?” He raised his eyebrows. “Think about who you’re taking your shit out on.”

  I turned my back to him and scanned the street for a payphone, even though they were a dying piece of technology.

  “That’s the million-dollar question,” I said. “Who are you? More importantly, who are you to me? The mystery deepens.”

  “We don’t have time for this.”

  “We never have time when things get too hard, Chaser. Don’t worry, I know how men like you operate.”

  “Unlikely.”

  I snorted, not wanting to argue about the fact I felt like I was stuck between suspected unrequited love and a father whose motives were even more mysterious than the fucking pyramids in Egypt.

  The game was changing so fast I could hardly keep up. Why was it so important to my father that I disappear? Even if Yvette wasn’t on the scene, would it change what he had in store for me? Probably not, which meant I had to be ready to play whatever cards he dealt.

  Could I count on Chaser? Who knew. That man was on and off like a light switch.

  There was a Shell gas station down the street, and knowing it was my best option, I began walking, the sound of Chaser’s footsteps thudding behind me only adding to my irritation.

  “We’ve got twenty minutes until the bus gets here,” he said as I powered toward the automatic doors.

  “Get off my back, Chaser.” I flipped him the bird over my shoulder as I stepped into the store.

  There was no payphone, but I made a reluctant Chaser buy me a cheap prepaid cell, which we took outside and put together. The moment the S
IM card was stuffed in the back and the phone was on, I punched in Yvette’s number.

  Putting some distance between us, I leaned against the wall of the gas station and eyed Chaser warily. Nothing about this conversation would be easy, and having him overhear was just another round of ammo he could use against me. He broke my heart, he really did. I wanted to love him—I pretty much already did—but there was this invisible barrier between us that was all him and then some. Goddamn you, Chaser.

  “Hello?” The sound of Yvette’s voice was like music to my heart.

  “I hear you’re looking for me.”

  “Sloane? Oh, God! Where have you been, girl?”

  I frowned, hating I’d put her in danger just because she cared about me. Thinking about Chaser, I could see the parallels, but it wasn’t the same. Was it? I wanted it to be. He had the means to fight back. Yvette didn’t.

  “You’re still looking for me,” I stated.

  “Of course, I am,” she declared, and I imagined the pout on her face. “You’re in trouble, Slo. I care about you, and I want to help, but I can’t do anything if I don’t know where you are.”

  “That’s the problem,” I said, my heart twisting. “You can’t know.”

  “Sloane…”

  “Are you alone?”

  “Why?”

  “Last time, you weren’t.”

  It took a moment for her to reply. “No, I wasn’t. Your neighbor was murdered, and you disappeared. Then there was that security footage from behind Teasers… I thought a serial killer had kidnapped you.”

  I snorted. She wasn’t far off the mark.

  “Yvette, are you alone now? Is anyone listening?”

  “No. They gave up after that call, Slo. I swear it.”

  “Good.” I flattened my palm against the wall, hoping Chaser was tactful enough to not listen in. “Listen, I’m going to tell you as much as I can, but you need to promise me something.”

  “I don’t know if I can…”

  “You have to.” Damn you, Yvette!

  “Fine, fine…”

  Taking a deep breath, I rattled off the cliff notes version. About where I grew up, who my father was, and why I’d run away. I told her about Chaser and why he’d come and our flight across the country. I was careful not to let slip about the bodies, and especially not about the guy whose head I shot off.

  “So you see… I’m in the middle of something I can’t control, but only I can deal with it. This goes beyond you and me, Yvette. Whatever my dad’s in, it’s big. Big enough to put a target on my back.”

  “Fuck… Sloane, I had no idea.” She sounded breathless like my story had taken the spark out of her life, too.

  “I wanted to leave that life,” I went on. “I wanted to start someplace new and get an education. Be a better person. A normal person. One day at a time…but I can’t escape it. I’ve got to face this head on and deal with it, or it’ll dog my footsteps forever.”

  “I wish I could help you. I wish…”

  “Coming after me will only get you and Brittany into trouble. I’ll be fine. I know how these people work.”

  There was a pause as the gravity of the mess I was in sank in even more than it already had. I’d fought all the way across the country, but it had always been futile. I was fucked the moment I laid eyes on Chaser that first night at Teasers.

  “Brittany asked about you that other day,” Yvette said.

  “I find that hard to believe.” I rolled my eyes even though she couldn’t see me. “She’s three.”

  “It’s true, Slo. You might hate kids, but she likes you, anyway. Kids know their shit and don’t have a problem telling you they hate carrots. Even at three, believe me. My kitchen wall is paying for it with a bright orange stain.”

  “What the hell was in those carrots?”

  “They’re genetically engineered, I’m telling you.” She sighed, the sound echoing down the line. “Will I ever see you again?”

  I glanced at Chaser, who was watching the comings and goings along the street.

  “Listen, if I ever get out of this, you’ll be the first person I call.”

  “That doesn’t sound great.”

  “I know, but it’s all I’ve got. I won’t let anyone hurt you, Yvette. You’ve gotta trust me on that one.”

  My grip tightened around the cell as I realized it was pretty much exactly the same thing Chaser had told me time and time again. He wouldn’t let anything happen to me. How was it only now I realized it was a promise I couldn’t keep? In reality, neither could he. Outside influences couldn’t be controlled.

  “I don’t like it, but I’ll take your word for it, Slo.”

  “I’ll call you. I promise.”

  There was a pause before she replied, “Sure.”

  Hanging up the call, I glanced at Chaser. Sensing my eyes on him, he turned.

  “Finished?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  Walking back to the bus stop, I was silent. There was nothing to say or discuss. This was it.

  “Did you convince her?” Chaser asked as we spotted the bus in the distance.

  “Yeah.”

  He snorted and picked up our bags as the bus turned into the lot. “Contrary to popular belief, I do give a shit about you, Sloane. The only person standing between you and your belief of that is you.”

  Rolling my eyes, I climbed onto the bus behind him, thoroughly annoyed he’d gotten in the last word. Again.

  Deep down, I knew Chaser cared about me. I saw it in the way he fucked me, how he made sure I was never hungry, how I’d always gotten the bed and the first shower, how he took a bullet for me, how he trusted me when he gave me my gun back. I didn’t know why he held himself back from giving more than that—maybe it was merely duty that stood in his way—but I knew exactly what kept me from saying the words out loud.

  Chaser was one of them, he was Fortitude, and I was afraid he’d turn out to be nothing more than a disciple of violence and brutality like all the rest. So, I didn’t tell him.

  He didn’t want to run away with me, and he didn’t want to help me escape my father. He wanted nothing more than sex… Maybe if I told myself that, then it would be easier when we parted ways.

  Maybe my heart wouldn’t break when he walked away.

  Maybe I’d be able to survive the shit storm to come if I wasn’t completely shattered.

  Maybe…

  Chapter 25

  Sloane

  When the bus reached Albuquerque, we jumped on an Amtrak train bound for Los Angeles. Only Arizona stood between California and us now, and with every passing mile, my anxiety levels rose.

  Staring out the window, I watched the platform move away from us, and the city flashed past as the train picked up speed. The central part of town morphed into an industrial zone, and then the factories melted away into the wilderness. Overhead, the sky was blue, and below, the earth was scorched.

  The train was more modern than I’d been expecting. We had a little private room with a shower and toilet, and when I said little…it was a shoebox.

  There was a sofa with reclining sections and a separate chair. At night, the sofa somehow converted to a bed, and above it was a fold-down bunk. The room itself was on the top level of the train car, flanked by other rooms, with ten or so smaller compartments further down, and below us were even more, including a fancier family suite. Train travel went and got itself upgraded.

  Everything was gray and blue, which reflected my mood perfectly.

  “You want a shower?” Chaser asked.

  I nodded and peered into the tight space, making a face. The shower was so small it sat over the toilet. It would have to do. I smelled and felt like a giant wad of stinky trash. My hair was still full of grit and grime from the accident.

  Stripping, I left my dirty clothes on the seat and closed myself in the cubicle. Dousing myself with warm water, I tried not to focus on the bruises that had flared overnight and allowed my thoughts to wander.

&
nbsp; I scrubbed off the filth of our Texas slash New Mexico car crash drama as best I could with the little square of soap provided.

  The image of the world tumbling around and around filled my mind, and I pressed my palm against the wall to steady myself. It didn’t help the train was moving, and I breathed deeply. Calmness only made my ears ring with the sound of the fatal gunshot…and the horrific crack and splatter of the man’s skull being ripped apart.

  He was a bad guy. He deserved it. It was him or me. I didn’t even know who they were.

  Forcing myself to squash down the memories, I washed the suds out of my hair and smoothed through some conditioner. As I rinsed, I made plans so I would have something else to focus on.

  Within a day or two, Chaser and I would arrive at the Fortitude compound, and our whirlwind romance—if you could call it that—would be all over. Chaser, Gunnar, star employee of Fortitude MC, branded lackey to my father… Time was limited if I wanted to solve the one mystery that would haunt me for the rest of my miserable days. Who was the man I’d fallen in love with?

  Scratch that. Who was the man I’d fallen in hopeless love with?

  My core flared at the thought of him, and my heart twisted. Too many emotional responses in such a short amount of time had me overloading. I was spiraling into a one-way ticket to a psych ward.

  I had to stop caring.

  Shit, I’d killed a man to save him.

  This was my last chance to convince Chaser to either let me go or come with me. I could tell him how I felt now or forever hold my peace and die a slow, miserable death at the hands of Fortitude.

  Emerging from the little cubicle, I pulled on my clothes, bumping against Chaser as the train moved from side to side. The accidental touch made my pussy constrict, and I scowled. Maybe it was only physical between us… No, it wasn’t. Not to me.

  Sitting in the seat closest to the window, I toweled my hair and watched as he rifled through his stuff, taking out a T-shirt and a pair of dark-colored jeans and boxers. I wrinkled my nose as he sniffed the T-shirt, checking for freshness.