by Grey, Helen
I blinked back my tears, tried to keep my chin lifted and my shoulders straight as I followed Spider toward one of the remaining booths in a corner. After several seconds of overwhelming silence, the talking began again, mostly hushed now, a mere buzz of sound. Not boisterous and obnoxious like it’d been only seconds ago.
“Have a seat,” Spider said, gesturing toward the booth. The red plastic was torn and ripped, the white stuffing bulging out. Stains from God knew what all over the place. The tabletop smeared with grease spots, dirt, and likely a myriad of germs. But at least we weren’t near the short hallway that led to the bathrooms.
I had to pee. Fear? A nervous bladder? I tried to ignore it. I sat down, careful to keep my hands clenched in my lap. Didn’t want to touch anything in this place unless it was absolutely necessary. The mumble of conversation continued around me, but I still felt eyes on me. I quickly cast my gaze over Spider’s shoulder, saw that while the others were still looking at us, they had relaxed somewhat. Beyond the counter was what used to be a serving station. Now it was just a bunch of rusted, broken stuff. A glass cupboard of sorts that might have held slices of pie. A large percolator-type coffee machine that had seen better days. Bottles of beer standing side by side on the other side of the coffee machine. On the walls hung decades-old placards.
As I looked at the faces of the Outlaw Biker Boys clustered in the diner, I couldn’t imagine what had prompted Ash to join them. They were a scruffy lot. Some looked like they hadn’t bathed since birth. My gaze latched onto one man; an older man who looked to be in his sixties, at least, who hovered near the edge of the counter, a scraggly gray beard reaching down nearly to his belly button. He stared at me, his gaze unblinking. Assessing. I swallowed heavily and pulled my gaze away from his, only to find Spider staring at me with the same assessing expression.
“Where’s Ash?”
Good question. I stared at him a moment, then offered a little shrug. I was actually impressed with that shrug, which probably looked more casual than it was. “I honestly have no idea.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“There’s nothing I can do about that.” His stare was hard, unyielding. As if he could compel me to answer with just that look. I almost felt an urge to smirk. Almost. I didn’t want it smacked off my face.
“You two have been seen together on more than one occasion—”
“We just met—”
Are you going to tell me you have no idea where he is?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” My voice shook a bit, but he needed to hear it. Would he believe anything I had to say? I doubted it. “Look, I barely know the guy, okay?” My voice had risen in timbre. Spider narrowed his gaze on me. I clamped my lips shut and inhaled a shaky breath, trying to calm myself. That stare. “Seriously, I hardly know him.” I took another glance around the interior of the diner. Saw the same eyes staring at me. That old guy standing exactly where he had been before, his gaze still fastened on me. Was he a gang member? Or did he own the diner, or whatever it was now? I pulled my gaze from him and glanced again at Spider, whose eyes had not left me. “You obviously know him a lot better than I do.”
“Well, let’s just hope that isn’t true, little missy,” he said.
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
He grinned and leaned back in the seat, the plastic beneath him squeaking as he moved. “I made him an offer.”
“You’ve talked to him? When?”
“Nosy little thing, ain’t you?”
I ignored the comment. “You’ve talked to him since those two apes kidnapped me?” My heart skip-hammered in hope. Maybe, just maybe, Ash would find a way out of this. For both of us.
“Oh, you bet we did. I told him we could make a trade. You for him.”
I barely held back a moan. I instinctively knew that if this gang got their hands on Ash, he would die. This was no joke. This was scary. And I knew, even if Ash surrendered himself, they wouldn’t let me go.
“Hey, Spider! How about you let us have a little fun with her? You don’t think Ash would mind, do you?”
Horror gripped me as I looked at the speaker. A dark-haired man with a scruffy short beard, nursing a bottle of Budweiser, his fingernails caked with grease. He was sneering, making a suggestively disgusting gesture with his tongue, a little ring on the end of it flapping at me.
I knew him. Recognized him as one of the trio of bikers I had seen waiting outside of the store the other morning. One of the guys who had ridden up and down the street when one of them had sent a shout-out to Ash.
I pulled my gaze away from his and looked again at Spider, who actually seemed to be considering the question. He saw the look on my face and laughed. “What’s the matter, Kathy? You have a sudden aversion to bikers? You seem to like Ash well enough.”
I swallowed. Found my voice. “I told you that I barely know him.”
He stared at me, disbelieving. “Ash doesn’t waste his time with broads that don’t put out.” He shook his head. “I’m mighty displeased with him at the moment.” He grinned. “I would think that you are too, ain’t you? He went off and left you, didn’t he?”
Was it true, what he said about Ash? Broads that put out? Was that all I was to him? Someone to string along until he had gotten what he wanted out of me? I didn’t want to think so. No. Ridiculous. But about the other comment, I had to wonder. I didn’t want to think that Ash was anything like these… these scumbags, but why would he hang around with them for so long, for so many years if he didn’t fit right in?
He was certainly cleaner and better looking than all of them. He had displayed manners to me, but was that just a put on? To throw me off guard? A man as handsome as Ash didn’t have to work hard to attract the opposite sex. Women were probably drawn to him like a magnet. Like I had been. Had I been fooled by a pretty face and a few manners? Was I about to pay for my foolishness?
“Like I said,” I replied, trying to sound convincing even though my voice still trembled. Nothing I could do about that. “I barely know him. We’ve only gone out a couple of times.”
“That’s not what my guys say.”
“I really don’t care what your guys say,” I said. And I didn’t. At this moment, I didn’t care if Ash even liked me. I just wanted to get the hell away from here. At the same time, I feared what they would do with Ash if he actually did show up for a trade.
As much as I wanted to imagine him swooping in like a knight on a white Harley to rescue me, would he risk himself for a woman he barely knew?
Spider spoke, his voice raised as he shouted for a guy named Chaps. What was it with these stupid nicknames? I yanked my gaze away from Spider, wondering which one of this motley group was Chaps. To my dismay, and horror, it was the guy who’d been wiggling his tongue at me.
Chaps rose from his chair. The metal legs scraped against the broken tiles beneath it and caused a wave of goosebumps to rise along my flesh. He approached the table with a smug grin.
“Take her to the back room,” Spider ordered, gesturing with his thumb toward the hallway where the stinking restrooms were located. “Tie her up in the office.” He glanced around the room and then looked up at Chaps. “Where’s Sarge?”
Chaps shrugged as he stood beside me. “How the hell should I know?”
“After you get her taken care of, go find him. I have a job for him.”
Chaps nodded and then reached down to grab my arm. I kept it close to my body and turned my shoulder away from him. “I can walk all by myself.” I didn’t want the guy touching me. I didn’t want any of them touching me. Of course, he ignored me. Faster than I could have imagined, his hand snaked out and gripped my upper arm. His fingers squeezed so tightly that my hand went numb.
“I don’t give a fuck what you want, lady,” he snapped. “Get up.”
Before I could even move, he yanked me from the booth. My right hip scraped against the edge of the table top, and I winced, instinctively trying to pull from his g
rasp. His grip on my arm tightened even more.
“Quit struggling, or I’ll slap the living shit out of you and drag you by your hair,” he snarled. “That what you want?”
I said nothing as I tried to calm my roiling emotions. To tamp down my rising sense of panic. He didn’t release his tight grip on my arm but pulled me toward the short hallway where the bathrooms were located. It stunk so badly of feces, urine, and vomit that I gagged.
He snorted with laughter. “You get used to it.”
I couldn’t respond, nor did I want to. I wasn’t about to engage in a verbal battle with this jackass. Before we got to the bathrooms, I saw a door marked Office in black marker that had faded over time. He opened the door and pushed me into a small space. I crashed into an ancient wooden desk; the really heavy, dark wood kind that was reminiscent of the 1930s. I had just begun to regain my balance when he grabbed me again and roughly shoved me behind the desk toward a wooden-backed chair on wheels.
My teeth clicked together when he forced me down onto the seat. He reached behind him toward a shelf, and I cringed, thinking he was going to hit me. He laughed. I turned to watch him, but he grabbed my hair and yanked. Hard.
Tears sprang into my eyes, and I gasped, my chest heaving for air. He laughed again as he grabbed my hands, forced them behind my back, around the chair spindles, and then tightly tied them with some kind of cord. Then he turned the chair and crouched down in front of it until his face was level with mine. He stared at me, his expression amused.
“Not so hoity-toity now, are you, bitch?”
He stood, stroking one of his hands down my shoulder and placing it over my breast. Then squeezed. Hard. I let out a cry of pain and shrank back, trying not to burst into tears.
“And I’ll tell you something else, bitch. As soon as we get Ash taken care of, I’ll be the first one in line to get a shot at you.”
I said nothing but cringed when he removed his hand from my breast and grabbed my chin. He forced me to look up at him. I tried not to cry as he pressed his face close to mine. His tongue darted out and licked my cheek. Then he shoved my face away, and with another curse, left the room, slamming the door loudly shut behind him.
Oh my God, my God, my God… what was I going to do?
Unable to hold back the tears any longer, sobs bubbled up from my chest. I felt like somebody had just punched me in the stomach. It was hard to breathe knowing the remnants of his saliva was drying on my cheek.
I cursed Ash one second and then prayed for him the next. Despite everything, I didn’t want him to get hurt. I didn’t want him to die.
It was then, at that moment, I realized deep down that the connection I’d made with Ash was much more powerful than I had imagined.
My sudden surge of emotion took me by surprise. It wasn’t realistic for me to feel so connected to a man I barely knew, but I did. And it was more than just his charisma. More than sexual chemistry. More than that damned grin of his. More than his good looks.
I’d connected with him on a level I never would’ve imagined. Maybe it was his history. Maybe it was the way he had been so careful to make me feel at ease around him. Maybe it was the image he gave off of not belonging anywhere. Of wanting to believe in something. In belonging. In finding himself. Maybe even forgiving himself.
I had compassion for the guilt he carried, and yet it was something more. Something that touched me in places I had never imagined another person could touch. Maybe it was just that I was so empathetic, so dedicated to helping the animals I loved so dearly. Maybe it was something about me, like the something that compelled me to want to become a veterinarian. Something that wanted to help the wounded. Make them better.
Did I think I could make Ash better? Heal his internal wounds? Heal his wounded soul? Maybe. Maybe that made me a fool, or it made me a better person. I didn’t know. All I knew was that I felt so much for Ash. Maybe a lot more and a lot deeper than I would ever have imagined. Yes, we were practically strangers, but isn’t that how people always met? As strangers?
He was different, no doubt about that. He might be rich. How rich, I didn’t know, but I guessed it didn’t really matter. Just because a person had money didn’t mean they didn’t have problems. Just because a person had money didn’t mean they didn’t experience the same pain in life that others did. While I couldn’t even begin to understand Ash’s pain, his guilt, and that yearning for belonging I think he kept well-hidden, I supposed it wasn’t right for me to judge his rationale for joining a gang. He had done what he felt was best for him, at that time and place in his life.
The sound of laughter erupted from the main room. I cringed. My heart skipped a beat. Again. How many beats could my heart skip without stopping altogether? But I knew one thing. Ash didn’t belong with these people. I had a feeling he’d known that for a long time but just didn’t know what else to do with himself. No, Ash wasn’t at all like these people. Despite his size, his aura of toughness and even arrogance, I got the impression that inside, Ash was one of those gentle souls. He could defend himself, no doubt about it. He could fight when he had to. He could be tough when he wanted to. But inside, at this moment, comparing him to the Neanderthals out there in the room, I realized that beneath Ash’s tough exterior was a very sensitive soul.
A soul that I liked very much.
*
I didn’t know how much time passed. I knew my arms ached, and my bladder had gone numb. I knew my wrists were bleeding from trying to escape my binds, I could feel the blood dripping down my fingers.
I knew the men outside that door seemed to be having a grand old time while they waited for Ash to appear. While they partied and I worried, a new thought occurred. If they let me go, traded me for Ash as they promised, how could I go on with my life knowing that a man I cared deeply for had traded his life for mine?
How does one live with something like that?
Then I scoffed, a brittle sound that echoed in my ears.
There wouldn’t be a trade. They wouldn’t let me go, I knew that now. You didn’t just kidnap a person and release them when they promised to stay quiet. Ash would be killed, and they would force me to watch. Or maybe they would force him to watch them rape me first. Either way, what was left of both our lives would be torture.
I had to escape. For both of us.
Wincing against the pain, I began to saw at my bindings again, biting my lip to keep from screaming as my wounds reopened.
There was a small window in the office. It appeared to have been painted shut, but it was just big enough for me to crawl through, if I could get free. But the ropes were strong and appeared to be woven through the bars of the chair. I’d tried and tried but hadn’t been able to cut through them.
I’d stopped wondering if Ash would come. He would, I knew it. If he hadn’t already been hurt or killed, he would come.
Not because of any love for me, but because he wouldn’t be able to live with more blood on his hands, another burden of guilt. The potential of someone else he cared for dying because of him.
I sawed harder at the rope. Bit my lip harder to keep from crying out. I had to do what I could to try to get away. To find the police. It couldn’t end like this, for Ash or for me.
A sharp bang startled me. Startled me so bad that I literally jerked up off the chair and tried to stand up, taking the chair with me. Only the bindings holding me down kept me from flying out of that chair. That bang was immediately followed by shouts of alarm. Curses. Several sharp, loud pops. Gunfire?
What was happening? And then I smelled smoke. Oh God. Was the place on fire? Had something exploded? My eyes wide with panic, the pulse throbbing in my neck, I struggled against my bindings again. No good. Still standing, I heaved the heavy chair onto my back. Holding my breath, I ran backward, ramming the chair against the wall, no longer caring about the noise I was making.
The pain was incredible, but the chair cracked the tiniest bit. I walked forward as far as I could, and did it again, rammi
ng the chair into the wall behind me.
I ricocheted forward, landing on my knees, and with no hands to catch me, my face.
Lying there, dazed, I tried to get up, but needed to catch my breath for just a minute. Outside the door in the main room, more chaos erupted. Over the sounds of shouting, a couple of motorcycles roar to life, revving, a couple fading away, and then more shouting, a few more pop, pop, pops. The smoke grew heavier. Filtered its way under the crack in the door. I coughed. Oh my God. Was this how it would end? I was going to burn to death? Would I die of smoke inhalation before crackling flames found my flesh?
My parents. They wouldn’t know what happened to me. They would think I had just disappeared. Nothing would be left of me besides my charred remains. Maybe, if they were lucky, they might be able to get DNA out of one of my teeth—
Heavy footsteps stopped outside of the door. I froze, stared at it in growing horror. It burst open. A huge bulk filled the door, and I knew immediately that it wasn’t Ash.
I closed my eyes as the figure stepped into the room. I didn’t want to see what came next.
CHAPTER 14
Ash
I chaffed at the bit, waiting and watching, hidden in the tree line behind the old diner. I didn’t like this shit. Felt useless. I hated this feeling. I wanted to be down there. Wanted to charge into that fuckin’ dilapidated old diner and barrel through the walls and find Kathy. I wanted to find Spider. Smash his teeth in. If I ran into Mops or Digger, I’d do the same. My chest heaved with the strength of my fury, but my hands were tied. If not literally, then figuratively.
No, I didn’t like this plan one bit. I should be out there, with Bones and Sarge and the Feebs rescuing Kathy. I had gotten her into this mess. I was the one who should be getting her out of it. But no. I was stuck back here, watching the rear of the building. Listening to the sounds of the fighting, unable to participate. I should have ignored them. Told the Feebs to go screw themselves. But there was more at stake than my sense of pride. My dignity.