“I can’t let you leave. I wish I could.”
She got her feet under her and spun toward him. She tried to yank her arm free, but his grip bruised her. A few more to add to the collection. His face was sweaty and his eyes were bloodshot. His work shirt was soaked with sweat.
She curled up one lip. “Yeah, your right fist sure wanted to let me leave.”
“I was hoping to knock you out and hide you until they left.”
“Aiming to give me two concussions, were you?”
His mouth flattened and he tugged her through the grass toward the barn. She stumbled, then straightened and looked up.
Deacon walked toward her and Roy and met them about fifty yards away from the barn.
One grim look from that man and the entire life she could have had if she had just trusted Travis flashed before her. How she’d ever thought Travis was like Deacon, she’d never know. Even if she had more than a few torturous hours or minutes left to live.
“What did you bring me, Roy?” Deacon stood completely still except for a slight tilt of his bald head. His legs were spread as if he was just enjoying a sunny day instead of considering how to murder her. “Do you think I need another chemist?”
“No. She was snooping.”
Deacon shook his head. “You know better than that, Skyler.”
She started shaking, her mind recognizing she’d gone into shock. She’d missed the window of time where adrenaline might have helped her escape. In other words, she was screwed.
“Let her go.” Roy’s grip lessened and she had to lock her knees to stay standing, especially when Deacon stepped into her space. Then, her teeth started rattling. “Scared?”
She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an affirmative answer, even though he had to see how terrified she was. She lifted her chin and glared at him. Roy paced in her periphery.
“You should be scared. I’m rather fond of you. I like pretty things.” Deacon turned and pointed back toward the barn. “But those guys would kill you. They’re not convinced you didn’t go against the club a decade ago. Taking pictures of our current operations would only convince them you’re a snitch.”
He waited a beat to let her probable fate sink in. The other Diablos walked back into the barn with another load of boxes.
“If they think you were snooping, they’ll make me kill you.” She flinched as Deacon grabbed the side of her head forcefully, but set her jaw even tighter. “Even with that black eye, you’re still too pretty to kill.” He stroked her cheek, and she tasted bile.
“Never going to happen.”
“That’s what you say now, but how long would I have to keep you before you’d give me a little taste?”
“Forever.”
Deacon laughed quietly, still careful to avoid undue attention. “If you want to live, you’re going to do exactly what I tell you to.” His gaze bore a hole in her while he waited for her to nod. He looked relieved when she did. “Can you convince my buddies over there you’ve decided to stick it to Travis by working with us?”
Her cooking for the Diablos was probably the only thing that would make Travis crazier than becoming Deacon’s old lady. And she could sell it to a few Diablos if it meant saving her life.
Seeing a possible way out, she nodded again. She’d play along with whatever Deacon wanted her to do until she saw a chance to escape. Then, she’d get the cops involved, call Travis—even if that put him in danger—she’d do whatever she had to survive. To see him again. To make things right.
Deacon squeezed the back of her neck and she couldn’t suppress another shiver. “Because he’s the reason we’re out here. He and his club have cleared us out of all our other cook spots in the county. This was the only place left.”
She was still ashamed of the fact that she’d been so derisive of Travis and his friends, even after they’d welcomed her back. There she was, with a meth lab next to her vineyard, passing judgment on the guys keeping the shit out of town. It wasn’t their fault they were using her land to cook; it was hers for coming back with the thought that she wouldn’t have to face her past.
Fact was that she had to face it head on, right now.
“Aw, she gets it.”
“Yes.”
“What’s that?”
“Yes, I can make it look convincing.”
Deacon stroked a single, rough fingertip across her cheek. “But how are we going to explain this?”
“Tell them Roy doesn’t think a girl can get the job done. It’s true enough.”
Roy walked back over to them then. “Wait just a damn minute—”
“Shut up, Roy. It appears we don’t really need you anymore. That could be bad for your health.”
Roy’s mouth snapped shut, and Deacon motioned for the three of them to walk closer to the barn.
Skyler somehow got her feet to move. Roy walked at a half-run, eager to follow Deacon’s bidding now that his job security was at risk—both illicit and not.
She and Deacon were about twenty-five feet from the barn when it exploded. The two Diablos near the barn slammed into the white van and collapsed. Deacon, inexplicably, threw himself on top of her, which didn’t stop her head from hitting the ground so hard she passed out.
28
Travis watched the barn explode from the road leading to Blue Sky Cellars. He and the other guys didn’t have a fully formed plan, but his first thought when he found out about the lab in the barn was Skyler’s safety. Both from the Diablos and the volatile chemicals. Now, watching a plume of smoke rise on the horizon, his chest felt like it was going to explode and he could barely focus on keeping his bike upright.
They hadn’t gotten there in time, and the lab had exploded on its own. He could taste the acrid chemicals in the air.
Chevy motioned for him to pull over and he did, even though all he could think about was making sure Skyler was safe. If she was hurt, he would never recover. He’d become a broken empty man; he’d become his father.
Protecting her meant protecting his heart, because she had it even if she didn’t want it anymore.
“You go check for her at the trailer. I’ll check the barn,” Chevy said. Travis wanted to fight him. He needed to get to Carrots right now, but he nodded. Chevy dialed 911 on his cell.
Before he could ride off, Chevy put his hand on Travis’s shoulder. “If it’s bad, you don’t want to see it.”
That made Travis want to drive out to the barn, but the hope that Skyler was nowhere near the explosion made him turn toward the trailer. In the daydream that was keeping him from falling the fuck apart, she was taking an afternoon nap. She might have woken up after the explosion, but she’d call the police instead of going to check things out on her own.
Although he knew her better than that, all he had was bare hope to keep his fear from rending him into tatters.
He dismounted his bike, then took a breath and knocked on the trailer door. The sound was hollow. He didn’t know how he knew, but she wasn’t there.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. A blocked number: I have something of yours.
Travis’s stomach turned before the photo rolled in. His heart raced and he got the same really bad feeling he’d had the day Isaac died.
Then he stared down at a picture of Skyler chained to a pipe, gagged and unconscious.
His vision clouded with rage; the kind of rage that made him want to burn it all down. Raze everything in sight. End anyone who blocked his path.
I didn’t do this. You and your boys did when you interfered with our business.
I WILL FIND YOU AND FUCKING KILL YOU.
Save it. If you want her back, be at my house in an hour. Leave your buddies behind. If you’re not there, I might decide to keep her.
Travis hadn’t lied. Even if he got to Skyler and freed her, he would kill Deacon. He would end anyone who had hurt her.
He got on his bike and rode without thinking, without feeling, just moving toward her. That text message made him realize exactly how much he l
oved her. He’d known she was part of him. His head pounded, and he couldn’t see or hear anything except what was right in front of him. That he needed to know she was alive to just keep breathing. But, if he lost her, they might as well bury him along with her.
This could be a trap, but he would just have to chance it. He’d have to risk the possibility that he wouldn’t be able to save her and would die from his heartbreak this time. Because not being able to save Carrots would mean that he was of no use to anyone. He needed her, and that need pushed him forward.
He pulled up to Deacon’s house and almost let his bike slide to the ground as he got off. He made sure it stayed standing because he was pretty sure they’d have to make a hasty escape.
All that mattered was getting to her before Deacon hurt her. And getting her out safely.
He went to knock on the door, but it was open a crack, and he barged through. He didn’t stop to think about how weird that was. He looked for the steps leading downstairs; the picture Deacon had sent was taken in a basement.
Had to be through the kitchen.
As soon as he stepped into the hallway, he felt a sharp blow to the back of the head, and then another. He was disoriented enough that he couldn’t fight off the chokehold that came next.
And then nothing.
“Travis, wake up.”
Either Travis was dead or he and Skyler were both alive. The pain in his head and the cuffs digging into his wrists told him it was the latter. Gratitude and terror warred over territory in his mind and body. Blood raced so fast in his ears that Skyler sounded far away even though she sat up against the wall.
“Travis, wake the fuck up.” She said it a little louder, and he rolled around, moaned a little.
She reached over with her foot and nudged his side. He groaned.
“I’ll be damned if you’re going to sleep through our murder. Wake up.”
“Pushy.” He blinked his eyes open in the dim room. “Fucker got the drop on me.”
“How’d you figure that out?” She must be so happy he was alive that she couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
“Shh. Stop talking so loud.”
“If Deacon doesn’t kill us, I’m going to have to tell Sara she was right about him being super kinky.” She must not be hurt that badly if she was making jokes. But she couldn’t keep the fear out of her voice, and Travis would tear Deacon apart for making his woman afraid. He opened his eyes. Had to see her face right now. Even though she was developing a shiner, she was gorgeous—perfect.
They were in a big room. Besides a wall covered with whips and paddles, not to mention the chains, a full set of weight equipment took up one corner of the basement.
“You think your head hurts? This is my second concussion this year. What are you doing here?”
“Saving you from Deacon.”
A laugh escaped her mouth. “Good job on that one, buddy.”
“Should have left you here.” His wrists were bound, but he scooted himself up against the wall so they sat side-by-side.
She bit her lip and looked over at him. “So how are we going to get out of here?”
“Don’t know yet. Only been awake for a minute.”
“Why did you come for me?” It tore him apart that he couldn’t get to her in time to prevent this.
“I had to. No other choice. I’ll always come for you.”
“I’m starting to realize that.”
He pulled at the chain binding him to the pipe. He could stretch out and touch her with his leg, but he needed to hold her face, make her look him in the eye and tell her the words on his heart. He’d always used touch to tell her how he felt, but his words needed to do the work now.
“Skyler, I…” The bruise on her face made him want to break something and comfort her all at the same time.
“You don’t have to say anything.” Unshed tears made her green eyes glassy. He wanted to drink in her fresh gaze for however long they had left. He’d done this by letting her go, by not fixing things between them right away.
Fuck. “This is all my fault.”
“No, it’s my fault. I knew about the lab at the Pinot Classic, but I wanted to get rid of it myself. I didn’t want to pull you into it. You’ve put yourself on the line enough for this town—for me.”
He wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t. He’d put keeping the Diablos out of town on his shoulders after Isaac died and Skyler left. But nothing he had done had prevented this moment. He was going to die; she was, too. And the Diablos would do whatever they wanted.
He’d failed at keeping the town safe, fallen down on the job. If he was going to lose Skyler anyway, he’d welcome death. Without her, he had nothing to fight for anymore.
“Why didn’t you tell me what you did? When I was saying you were just like him? Sara told me about it.”
“’Course she did.” He sighed. Mouthy women would be the end of him if Deacon wasn’t. “I didn’t think you would hear me.”
“I don’t know if I could have. I don’t know that I could have seen past the bikes and the cuts.”
He wished she had more faith in herself outside of her brain. He wished they could have had this talk before they were chained up in a basement, waiting for the end. But he needed her to know how he felt about her before the end came.
“I’m sorry I was such a bitch to you. I just barreled in with an attitude. I didn’t care who I hurt.”
“You’re not a bitch. You just didn’t know how to let anyone care about you.”
“Yes, I am. And you like it.” She smiled at him and a tear rolled down her cheek.
He wanted to say he loved her—words he’d never used with a woman other than his mother. He did. Even if they got out of this mess and she left him, he’d never feel this way about anyone else.
“I love it. I love everything about you. I always have.”
“Always? Even when I slapped you for not taking my virginity?”
“God, babe. Saying no that night wasn’t easy. I deserved to get slapped.”
“You loved me when I called you names?”
“Especially when you called me a dipshit.”
“When I walked out?”
“Fuck, no. When you drove away with that idiot in your truck, I hated you. Because you took my heart with you. You own me, Carrots. Every fucking bit. When you’re gone, I have nothing.” She gasped and more tears spilled down her face.
Just saying those words out loud repaired something inside of him. He didn’t like keeping the truth inside, even holding in his love for her had been eating at him.
“I thought I could keep this casual. That we’d work each other out of our systems. But every time you touched me, I fell deeper. I wanted you so much it started to scare me. I was scared the night of the fight. Then, after I found the lab, I was even more scared. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I didn’t want you to have to clean up after my family’s mess again.” She broke off on a sob that ripped into the wounds hearing her voice had started to suture. “And I didn’t think you wanted me anymore. You said you were done. And then you stayed away.”
Regret was too small a word to describe how he felt about staying away. Ginger gave shitty advice. When he woke up on that couch, he should have gone straight to Skyler’s and laid it all out for her. They belonged together.
“I lied. I’ll never be done with you. We’ll never be done with each other.”
“What if this is never?” Her voice was small. If he closed his eyes, they were kids again, sneaking around and getting into trouble. He’d give anything to hear her laugh again—that sound was so much like air to him.
Panic and fear stalked him. His own pain, he could handle. Her pain, however, would kill him faster than anything Deacon or the Diablos could do to them.
She nodded at the wall opposite of them. From the looks of the shit hanging on the wall, Deacon enjoyed dealing out pain.
“I knew he was a sick fuck. Carrots, I would do anything for this not
to be happening.”
“I know. I don’t blame you. That club is a cancer on the town. I thought I could handle it without you. I went to my dad—”
“God, baby, why did you do that? Your dad has no soul.”
“No, he doesn’t. He’s nothing like you, Travis.” When she looked at him then, it was with all love. Trust. Even though he caused this. “I should have asked you for help.”
“I get it. I fucked up.” He twisted his hands again, the desire to touch her so strong he couldn’t breathe. “Dammit, Carrots. You’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me. You mean more to me than anything I own—my bike, the Foundry.”
“Your cut?” She sniffled.
“Fuck, yes.” He looked down. Just couldn’t take the disappointment in her eyes. The sadness that they wouldn’t get to spend more time together. “I’d give anything to get us out of this. To be able to touch you again. Wake up beside you every morning.”
He didn’t have time to get any more words out because footsteps echoed into the room. He sat up straighter, his body readying for a battle he would lose. He looked at Skyler again, hungry to see her.
Since it seemed like he was going to have to choose a last thing to look at, he needed it to be her.
Even Deacon’s voice didn’t make him tear his gaze away from her. “What’s the saying? We’re all dumb fuckers in love?”
29
All the dread in Skyler’s gut didn’t tamp down the joy she felt at knowing for a fact Travis loved her. She should have seen it before, but she’d been blind to it. Willfully. It was in the way his hands fisted against his shackles and tightened tendons on the side of his neck—the way he strained toward her with his whole being.
She knew he loved her because her body responded the same way to not being able to touch him. She hoped he could see that she loved him, too.
She didn’t have time to say it before Deacon came back down the stairs. Knowing that he was getting ready to kill them, she couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her face. Her shoulders shook and her arms ached from the odd position she’d been holding for God knew how long.
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