by Amity Cross
Shondra, Emily, Raquel, Kelly, and Sierra were sitting in a circle, talking low. When they’d realized I’d appeared, they glanced up at me. Shondra glared the hardest, and I felt an overwhelming urge to punch her square on the nose.
They didn’t care Harley was beating on Sam. They thought it was her problem, but that was what the cycle of violence did to destroy people, even those outside the direct sphere. They got trapped in their narrow ways of thinking until they believed that it was how things were done. Maybe I was coming from a place of privilege, with my bitch of a mouth and inner strength, but I had the power to stand up and say something. Not just say. Do.
It was hard to ask for help. It was even more difficult to follow through and change the minds of those around them at the same time.
Problem was, I didn’t want to come across as a self-absorbed, clueless bitch, either. It could still go either way.
“Sloane,” Shondra purred. “How are you, doll?”
I didn’t like it when they called me pet names like babe, hon, baby girl, and especially doll. It made my eye all twitchy with rage.
Before I could answer, there was a lull, and everyone turned toward the door. Sam stood just inside the common room, her eyes red and puffy. She was dressed in a plain black top and denim skirt, and her hair was combed and done up in a ponytail. If it were any other day, she would look normal, but it was far from it.
“Hey, babe,” Raquel cooed. “Come sit here.” She patted the sofa beside her.
Sam gave me a tentative glance and shuffled across the room and sat with the other women. They proceeded to fawn over her with thin reassurances and fake compliments. Exchanging a look with Gasket, he shrugged. Women weren’t his thing.
I really wished Sam had stayed in her room.
Chaser was nowhere to be seen, and my heart sank. Would Marini make him—
Gasket appeared next to me and dragged me back against the wall.
“I know about you and Chaser,” he whispered in my ear. “We’re on the same side here, girl.”
“What?” I jerked away and glared.
“Shh,” he soothed. “Don’t get all hostile.”
Suddenly, it all made sense. Why I was drafted into working at the garage, how Chaser always held something back when we had our stolen moments together, how he’d conditioned me not to ask too many questions.
I hadn’t been in control at all. This whole plan I’d cooked up was a joke, and they were humoring me like a child playing at a grown-up’s game. Gasket had just taken a huge crap all over everything I was and thought I could be.
“You piece of shit.” I hissed at him, my hackles rising.
“This game is moving faster than you realize.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“Marini will get rid of Harley, and Chaser will be next on his list.”
I froze, my heart stuttering in my chest. I asked him to come here. I asked him.
“Do you think he’d try to kill him?”
Gasket shrugged, which didn’t instill much faith in the matter.
“Chaser knows what he’s doing.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“The less any of us know, the better. Knowing too much is a one-way ticket to getting us all six feet under, girl.”
I wanted to ask him ‘what now,’ but I clamped my mouth shut. I was supposed to already know, being the mastermind, and I didn’t want to admit that Gasket was right. I was in over my head.
“This is going to end badly,” I said, throwing a look at Sam. “You helped me once…”
“I can’t make any promises. You know that. I can’t do anything that could out me with your father. My leverage inside Fortitude might be the only thing that saves your ass if your plan blows up.”
I opened my mouth to counter, but something felt…off. A gunshot rang out, and everything stopped.
Heads turned toward Marini’s rooms as the boom echoed through the compound, silencing everyone.
“Oh, God,” Sam wailed.
I snapped into action. Striding across the room, I grabbed Sam’s wrist, hauled her to her feet and dragged her from the common room, ignoring the eyes following us.
“Sloane,” she cried, practically running after me. “They shot him… They… Sloane!”
“Shh,” I hissed. “Hurry up.”
I couldn’t chance taking her back to her own rooms, so I went in the other direction, taking the long route back to my own bedroom. We made it back with no one challenging us. Shouting and thumping echoed all around as I shoved her inside.
“Stay in here, and lock the door,” I said. “Barricade it if you have to, but don’t open it for anyone except Chaser or me. Got it?”
“Chaser?” She blinked, looking lost and on the verge of breaking down into hysterics.
There wasn’t time to explain, so I practically shoehorned her into the room.
“Promise me, Sam.”
She nodded. “I promise.”
“Is there anything I need to save from your room?”
Her bottom lip quivered.
“Sam.”
“M-my mom’s necklace. It’s on the bedside cabinet.”
“That’s it?”
She nodded. “Everything else… It’s poisoned…”
I grimaced and glanced down the hall. “I’ll get you out of this. Hold tight.”
I slammed the door shut and waited until I heard the lock click before I moved away.
Shit, shit, shit.
By killing Harley, Dad had sent a message. I was his daughter, and my fate was up to him and him alone. Anyone who got in the way, anyone, would suffer the same fate. It offered me a slight amount of protection, but it left Chaser wide open. First, I had to help Sam get the hell out of this cesspool, then I could worry about Chaser. He had more chance of defending himself than she did.
Besides, I’d promised her. Several times.
Gasket was still in the common room when I peered through the door. He was doing his best to pull bikers back into line before more bullets flew. By the looks of it, half were for murder and half were not. To my confusion, Deluca was going head-to-head with Rocket, who was up in his personal space shouting insults.
At any second, a full-blown brawl was going to erupt, and Marini was nowhere to be found. Gasket was doing what he could, but the only person who could end the tension was Fortitude’s president. I assumed he was too busy gloating over Harley’s corpse and breathing in the fumes of gunpowder to give a shit.
Diving headfirst into the madness, I clawed at Gasket’s arm, pulling him from the room and into a shadowy alcove.
“Sloane, what are you playing at? You’re the reason Harley’s dead, and right now, you’ll end up the same way regardless of Marini’s orders. Don’t be a happy accident, girl. Get back to your room.”
I wasn’t interested in self-preservation right now. Not when I was the only one who had the power and the guts to save someone who needed freedom more than me.
“I need your cell phone and Chaser. Now.” I clicked my fingers and held out my palm.
“What for?”
I clicked my fingers again. “Hurry the fuck up, old man.”
Gasket reached into his back pocket and pulled out his cell but hesitated.
“What for?” he asked again.
“I need to keep a promise.”
Chapter 17
Chaser
Leaning against the side of the car, I let my head fall back and sighed.
I wished I smoked because I could really go a cigarette right about now. The scent of gunpowder was stuck up my nose, and death was on my mind.
Marini had pulled the trigger, not me, so why had this one stuck? Maybe it was because Harley had tried to hurt Sloane. These feelings were starting to get…complicated.
Darkness clung to the surrounding alley, though the sky was tinted orange by the city. Always orange. I decided I hated the city. Being alone out in the middle of nowhere with Sloane had been a
nightmare, but strangely, it had been the calmest I’d felt in a long time. Maybe it was her, or maybe it was the lack of Fortitude. Fucked if I knew.
Movement drew my attention, and I straightened up, my palm settling on the gun shoved into the waistband of my jeans.
Sloane emerged out of the darkness, her hand firmly in the grasp of Sam’s hand.
I didn’t want to know how they got out of the compound with no one noticing, but I assumed Gasket had something to do with it. That meant she knew the cat was out of the bag where her surrogate daddy was involved. An argument was coming about that, but not for a while yet. Fuck, I hoped it was when we were alone and locked away someplace. Arguing with her meant my dick in her pussy. It had been way too long.
“Okay?” she asked, her voice low.
I nodded. “Clear.”
Sam glanced at me warily, her gaze falling to the gun. I knew what she thought of me. I was a cold, hard killer, who cared nothing for nobody. Everyone said the same thing, so I wasn’t surprised at her hesitation. She was here because she had nowhere else to turn to. Sloane’s trust in me had likely sweetened the deal.
Sam had brought nothing with her. Just the clothes on her back.
“Here.” Sloane took Sam’s hand and set something into her palm.
“You got it?” Tears misted Sam’s eyes as she inspected whatever Sloane had given her.
Sloane nodded. “I promised, didn’t I?”
The two women embraced, and I turned away, not entirely sure if I was irritated by their display of emotion or saddened by it. They would likely never see one another again.
“You’ll like Yvette,” Sloane was saying. “She’s got a daughter. Bringing her up on her own. She’s going to meet you halfway. Give you a ride back west and a place to stay for a while.”
I opened the car door and raised an eyebrow.
Sloane waved me off. “Give us a second, would you?”
“We’re out of time,” I said.
Sam nodded. “He’s right. If you get caught…”
They hugged again—this time, a little tighter.
“Thank you, Sloane. For everything.” Sam wiped a tear and got into the car. Fiddling with the necklace, she reached behind her neck and put it on.
“Take care of her,” Sloane said to me.
I smiled. “I got you here, didn’t I?”
Sloane’s lips curved, and she pressed her forehead against mine.
“Gasket’s waiting for me,” she said after a moment.
“Go. I’ll send word when I get back.”
Closing the passenger side door, I rounded the hood and opened the driver’s side.
“Hey, Chaser?” Sloane’s voice echoed down the narrow alley.
I glanced over my shoulder. Even the darkness made her look beautiful.
“Thank you.”
I nodded and slid into the car.
“What’s with you two?” Sam asked as I turned on the engine and coasted down the alley.
I grunted, not wanting to talk about it. Sloane had started off as cargo, just like Sam was now. Difference was, Sam would stay that way. Unless Fortitude realized where I was, who I was with, and where we were going. The Hollow Men didn’t rate a mention…yet.
“You fell in love with her, didn’t you?”
“You don’t know anything about my life,” I replied, keeping my eyes on the road.
“I suppose not.”
Thank fuck she shut her mouth because I was not in the mood for a heart-to-heart. I was driving twenty hours across the country for her—for Sloane—risking my position in Fortitude to get Sam out. I didn’t need another big-mouthed woman telling me what I needed to do on a long drive through hell.
“She’s not safe there,” Sam said, breaking the silence I craved. “She’ll never be safe.”
“She knows that,” I shot back. “We know that.”
“If you care about her, you need to get her out of there.”
“Sloane… She has unfinished business with her father.” It was all I could say on the matter. Try explaining my past, Sloane’s, and our current fucked-up plans for taking Fortitude to a woman who’d become a widow less than twelve hours ago.
“You can tell me, Chaser,” she said. “I’m not going back there. I can’t.” She snorted and sank back in the seat. “Harley was the only person who kept me safe, and even then, he’d become a monster. I loved him once, but I was too afraid to leave. There was still a part of me that hoped the man I fell for was still in there. That Fortitude hadn’t taken him away from me entirely, you know? I was afraid to let go.”
I tensed, her words hitting home. He’d become a monster. I wasn’t the same…was I?
“Everyone else, they might’ve liked me in their own way, but they didn’t stop him hurting me,” she went on. “Not once. Sloane was the only person who stepped in, you know. I should’ve trusted her.”
“You had no reason to trust anyone,” I said. “Not with a track record like that.”
“I only trust you and this Yvette woman because Sloane vouched.”
I gritted my teeth. Shit, I hated deep and meaningful conversations. I wouldn’t even entertain them with Sloane, let alone Sam.
“No one ever stuck up for me like that,” Sam went on, babbling. “Stood up to Harley. I can’t believe he’s gone… Just… Dead.”
“Sloane stood up for you for a reason,” I said. “She risked her life for you.”
“You risked yours for her, right? You got stabbed?”
“It’s my job,” I snapped.
“No one voluntarily gets knifed,” she declared.
“I do.” I was so over this conversation.
Sam’s mouth fell open in shock. “She’s got your balls!”
“Huh?”
“Kelly will be devastated.”
“Who the fuck is Kelly?” I scowled and rolled my eyes.
“Stewie’s woman.”
“Bet he’d have a few things to say about that.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked. “When you get back to Fortitude? I don’t think Marini’s got good intentions. Sloane said he tried to sell her off. Is that true? I’ve always been scared of him.”
“Smart girl,” I drawled.
“I can’t believe he was just going to sell her like that…” Sam shivered, whimpering and dabbing her sleeve against her eyes.
He was going to do it again, but it was a secret I wanted to keep and one she didn’t need to burden herself with. Not considering her current predicament.
“So?” she prodded. “What are you going to do?”
Thinking about Marini’s plan to sell Sloane off to the Hollow Men to prevent a war, I narrowed my eyes. We were on the highway now, traveling away from the lights of Los Angeles. Soon, we would be able to see the stars again. The real ones.
I grunted, signaling I didn’t want to talk about it because I didn’t know.
Whatever happened, it was going to be a bloodbath. Sam should be happy she got out now. Extremely happy.
“We’ve got a long way to go,” I said, turning on the radio. “You should get some sleep.”
Sam sighed and nestled into the seat, rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan.
“She’s so got your balls,” she muttered.
* * *
It was a long way to Tulsa.
A full night and day had passed, the sun showing its face and then disappearing again before we parked in the lot of a McDonald’s near the highway. I left Sam in the car stuffing her face with cheeseburgers and fries while I sat on the hood, watching the traffic come and go.
Apart from our insightful conversation about who had or didn’t have the possession of my balls, the trip had been uneventful. Unlike the last time I drove across the country, no one had shot at us.
Sam… Well, after a while, things kind of got to her. She’d fallen asleep after a while but had cried and sniffed straight across Arizona and half of New Mexico. Couldn’t blame her, but I ha
d no words of comfort. Harley was dead, shot in the chest at point-blank range for trying to murder Sloane, and there was nothing I could do about that—you reap what you sow, an eye for an eye, and all that.
Besides, I wasn’t Sloane. Sloane knew how to use her words. All I knew was how to pull the trigger. The life I led at Fortitude had erased the one I knew when I was with Madison. Tenderness, smiling, caring, sacrifice. How did I get those things back? If I lost Sloane to the Hollow Men or her father, did I want to care that much about her? Madison’s murder had destroyed me utterly and completely. Her death had turned me into a shell.
A silver sedan—a rather old Ford that had seen better days—turned into a spot across the lot. The headlights turned off, and all was dark.
I vaguely remembered Yvette from the strip club where I’d found Sloane. Blonde, tiny, pouty lips, and that stripper look that saw tips being shoved into her cleavage every night behind the bar at that club she worked at. That was all I knew. That and that Sloane cared enough about her to stop Marini from ‘dealing with her’ while we’d been on the road. The fact Yvette had just upped and left her kid to drive across the country to take in a woman she didn’t know was more points in her favor. She was taking on a lot for no other reason than she had the means to help.
The driver’s side door opened, and a little blonde woman climbed out. Turning, she spotted me sitting on the hood of the car and glanced around the lot. It was lit bright enough it wasn’t dodgy, and inside the McDonald’s, there were still full tables of locals eating their way through chicken nuggets and sweet and sour dipping sauce.
The woman wandered over, her hands shoved into the pockets of her denim jacket.
“Hey. I’m looking for directions. Are you Gunnar?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Fuck this code word shit. I’m Gunnar.”
Yvette pouted and looked me over. “I can’t believe I told Sloane to fuck you.”