by Nicole James
She eyed the gate. Two men stood near it. One smoked a cigarette; the other was animatedly describing something to him until they both were laughing. Cat’s eyes strayed to the back. There were a couple of metal garbage dumpsters in the back corner. If she could find a way to get on top of them, she might just be able to pull herself over the tall stockade-like fence. It would be quite a drop to the other side, but she couldn’t worry about that.
She looked around again. There were a couple of old plastic milk crates behind the building. She could use them as a step up onto the dumpster. She glanced back at the gate. The men seemed oblivious to her. She slowly edged down off the table and darted behind the building. They couldn’t see the dumpsters from where they stood. As long as she didn’t make any noise, she just might have a shot.
***
Blood lifted his head and shook it. He couldn’t hear a thing besides the ringing in his ears. Dust filled the air. Something heavy was on top of him. He managed to roll to his back and shove the sheet of metal off him, the whole time thinking that if he ripped open his wound, Cat was going to kill him. If it didn’t hurt so badly, he’d laugh at the irony of that.
“Sandman? You okay?”
He heard a muffled groan to his right and crawled beneath the twisted metal that formed a low cave around them. “Sandman!”
“Yeah,” came the weak reply. It sounded like it was coming from underwater, but then Blood realized his hearing was just messed up.
He heard the shouts of the men he’d left outside to guard their backs.
“Blood! Sandman! Bam-Bam! You guys alive?”
“Over here!” Blood yelled back. He looked around. There were spots of daylight coming through the pile, but he knew there was a good chance they were trapped under all the debris. He got to Sandman and pulled him out from under a twisted metal pipe. He only had strength in one arm, but somehow he managed.
Sandman rolled over and started cursing. “Motherfucker, that hurts.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Are we trapped?”
“Not sure.”
“Who the fuck’s idea was it to come in here?”
“Yours,” Blood replied with a grin.
“Bullshit. I deny all involvement.”
“Yeah, right.”
“You still got those painkillers in your pocket?”
“Let me check.” Blood finagled his hand into his hip pocket and came out with the bottle. “Yeah.”
“Give me a handful.”
“Fuck no. I need them. You can have two.”
“I always knew you were a stingy bastard, even in my hour of need.”
“Fuck off. I was shot.”
“I think my leg’s broke.”
“Shake it off, you big baby. You’re fine.”
“We were setup.”
“No shit.”
“I’m gonna kill the motherfucker. Who gave Undertaker this tip?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Call him and find out.”
“Now?”
“Uh, yeah.”
Blood dug his phone out. “No service.”
Easy yelled out, “I found Bam-Bam. He’s okay. We’re gonna get you guys out. Don’t worry!”
“Shut up and let me die in peace!” Sandman yelled back.
“Relax,” Blood told him.
“Hey, do me a favor please, and for once in your life admit how bad the situation is.”
“I’m aware of the situation.”
“Really? Because I think we’re fucked.”
“Calm down.”
“You know I hate small spaces.”
“That’s just a state of mind. You’ve got to work through it.”
Sandman groaned and rocked.
“You all right?”
“No, I’m not all right.”
“Quit moving around so much. This pile is very unstable.”
“Thanks. That’s encouraging.”
They were both quiet as the others continued to try to dig them out.
“How’d they know when to detonate, Blood?”
“Maybe pizza-face called someone.”
Sandman looked around. “Let’s dig him out so I can kill him all over again.”
Blood fell to his back, breathing heavy. “Maybe Betty Crocker detonated it. She gave me a weird look.”
“That’s just the way all women look at you.”
“Ha ha. You’re hilarious.”
“I know. It’s a gift.”
Blood stared up at the tiny slivers of sunlight shining through the debris and tried to move some of it. The metal pieces were all twisted together in an interlocking pile like some giant Jenga game. He shifted one piece, and another board fell on Sandman.
“Fuck!”
“Well, that could have gone better,” Blood said, trying to stifle his laughter.
Sandman glared over at him. “Ya think?”
Blood tried again.
“Please, for the love of God, stop before you kill me.”
He finally gave up, impatience gnawing at him, and fell back, breathing hard.
Sandman shoved the board off himself. “I hate you right now.”
“You’ll get over it.”
They were quiet for a few minutes. Blood looked over at Sandman who could never stay quiet for long. “You alive?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Remember last week when you wanted to tell me the meaning of life? Now’s your chance.”
“You sayin’ I babble?”
“Endlessly.”
“Fuck off,” Sandman bit back then rolled his head to look at Blood, picking a topic of his own choosing. “She’s pretty.”
“Who?” Blood frowned over at him.
He turned his head back to look at the bits of blue sky. “Cat. You can tell she really cares about you, too.”
Blood looked up at the same spot. “Yeah, I’ll probably screw it up like I do everything else. It’s not in my DNA to be happy.”
“What a bunch of bullshit.”
“I’ll run her off just like all the rest. It’s what I do.”
Sandman huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, so…quit doin’ that. Boom. I’m your life coach.”
Blood fought to give in to the humor, but soon they were both breaking down into laughter. He clutched his side. “You fucking asshole. Damn that hurts.”
That only made Sandman laugh that much harder.
Chapter Fourteen
Dusk had fallen when the group finally made it back to the clubhouse. Blood, Sandman, and Bam-Bam were slow getting off their bikes. Undertaker and the rest of the club were waiting for them.
Blood straightened, his hand holding his side.
Undertaker stepped over. “You okay?”
“I’m fucking fine.” He hobbled past him, wanting nothing more than to collapse into bed.
“Got some bad news.”
“Jesus Christ, what now?”
“Cat’s gone. I was just about to send someone to look for her.”
That brought Blood up short. “What do you mean she’s gone? Gone where?”
Undertaker shrugged. “We’ve searched the property. She’s gone. I’m guessing she’s on her way to the police.”
“Goddamn it. How the hell did she get out? There are guards on the gate. Did the fucking Prospects fall asleep on the job? Where are they? I’ll kill them.”
“Calm the fuck down. She didn’t go out the gate. In our search we found a couple of crates stacked up near the dumpsters. Guys found tennis shoe prints on the ground on the other side of the stockade.
Blood limped back toward his bike.
“Where the fuck you think you’re going?”
“I’m going after her.”
“No, you’re not.”
“She’s my responsibility. I’m going.”
Undertaker huffed out a breath, seeing it was pointless to argue. “Fine. Take one of the boys.”
“So-Cal!” Blood barked. “Let�
��s go.”
The man, whose nickname stemmed from the fact that he’d transferred from one of the club’s Southern California chapters, stepped up.
Undertaker put a hand in So-Cal’s chest, halting him. “Mud said the tracks led to the left.”
“The left? The road heads through the swamplands in that direction. Why the fuck would she go that way?”
Blood snapped back sarcastically, “Let’s find her and ask her.”
“Better hurry before the gators make a meal out of her,” Undertaker suggested with a grin.
Blood glared at him as he threw his leg over the seat.
They both fired up their bikes and headed out.
***
Cat stumbled down the road. She hadn’t seen a car pass since she’d left the clubhouse. There was nothing in the direction she’d gone. Just trees as far as she could see. A few feet to the right she could make out the reflection of the bayou. She trudged on, slapping at mosquitoes. Dusk had fallen, and the pests had come out in full force to feast on her. And that’s not all she was afraid could be out looking for an evening meal. With every sound she glanced around, terrified an alligator would come out from the water.
She was really rethinking her decision to leave the compound. And where the hell did this road lead anyway? Nowhere? She’d been too afraid to go in the direction the bikes had left, thinking maybe she’d run into them returning.
A sudden noise in the trees made her jump. She looked up to see a large white egret lift from the upper branches and take flight; its snowy wings spread three feet across as it flapped away.
She kept walking. A few minutes later, she saw a large shadowy shape stretched across the highway about twenty yards ahead. It stopped her in her tracks. Oh, crap! If that was an alligator, could she outrun it?
She backed up a step, not taking her eyes off it. It moved, and as she watched, she realized it wasn’t a gator, but a huge greenish-black snake. Probably one of those Anacondas she’d heard had become such a problem with idiots releasing them into the swamps. Good God, the thing had to be fifteen feet.
As she watched, it slithered slowly into the brush on the other side of the road. Still, she waited, not sure she wanted to pass the spot just yet.
As she stood there contemplating returning to the clubhouse, she heard the distant unmistakable rumble of motorcycles. She looked back the way she’d come and saw two tiny headlights in the distance. As she stood waiting, they quickly grew closer and louder. A moment later they were upon her.
Blood rolled up next to her, parked, and dismounted. She was never so happy to see anyone in her life… but he didn’t look happy at all.
“You’re a fucking handful. Just how far did you think you’d get? And where the fuck did you think you were going? This road leads nowhere you want to go!”
He studied her, and she could tell he wasn’t sure what to make of her. A man trying to figure out the female mind—she’d seen that look before. Like they were trying to understand a foreign language, a puzzle, a map they couldn’t read. They knew there was something important, but they just couldn’t figure it out.
“Babe, you want something, you need something, spell it out. Tell me. No shit, just fucking tell me. I don’t have time to try to figure out the female mind. I’ll fuck it up every time.”
She rubbed the sides of her upper arms. “I’m going to the police.”
“Well, it ain’t this way. The only place you’re going is back to the clubhouse.” He made to grab her arm, but she yanked back.
“No! I’m going to find my sister. I’m not waiting around that damn compound any longer!”
He yanked her to him. “You’re a real fighter, you are. I’m trying to help you.”
“No you’re not!”
“You have to trust me, Cat.”
“How am I supposed to trust you? You’re only concerned with getting revenge on the Death Heads. You eat, sleep, and breathe it.”
“You’re right. Revenge is the reason I get up each day. But don’t fool yourself, darlin’. The police can’t find your sister, and when the Death Heads find out you went to the police, they’ll hunt you down.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Blood shoved her away. “Fine. You wanna run, then run. But if you do, you better keep on runnin’. Change your name, cut your pretty hair off, and go into hiding. And just maybe you’ll be safe. ‘Cause I’ll tell you one thing, the police can’t protect you from the Death Heads MC. They’ll come lookin’ for you. And God help you when they find you.”
“I don’t care,” she said petulantly, turning away.
He yanked her around. “You damn well should care!”
She shoved him away. “You’re exaggerating just to…to scare me.”
“Really? So you’re an authority on the Death Heads now?”
“I know you’re just like them.”
He grabbed her upper arm and yanked her to him, fury written all over his face. “I’m nothing like them, Cat, and if you haven’t figured that out by now I don’t know why I’m here wasting my time.” He shoved her away again.
They glared at each other.
“You’re not really gonna leave her out here, are you?” So-Cal asked, glancing around the darkening woods.
Blood looked back at him a second, before capturing Cat’s eyes with his. “Thinkin’ about it.”
Her chin came up.
There was a tick in his jaw, and then he finally growled, “Come back and promise me you’ll stay put.”
Cat bit back, “Promise me you’ll find my sister.”
“I said I would, didn’t I?”
“But you haven’t, have you?”
“Goddamn it, woman!” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration, and stepped away before spinning back to her. “Don’t you get it? I find the Death Heads, I find your sister!”
She was stunned by his words and stood, considering the truth in them. Maybe he wasn’t just out for his own benefit, maybe he really was doing it for her. Her chin came up again, and she murmured, “I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry.”
Blood shook his head and looked away. When his eyes met hers again, he huffed out, “Just what does it take to earn your trust?” He turned and moved toward his bike like he was giving up, like he was planning to leave her, and she panicked.
“Blood.” Her soft voice stopped him, and he turned back. Her eyes glazed over with tears as she whispered shakily, “I don’t know what to do.”
Blood stared into her eyes a long moment. “Come here.”
She moved toward him, and when she was within arm’s length, he reached out and pulled her to him. She was enveloped in the smell of leather and motor oil and his own special scent, calming her somehow and reassuring her in some odd way she didn’t want to examine too closely.
His head dipped, and he spoke into the hair at the top of her head.
“You need to fall in line. I know you’re scared, babe, but I’ve got enough shit on my plate without having to worry about you, too.”
She clung to him, needing his strength. She didn’t know how much longer she could bear the weight of fear and worry all alone. She wanted so badly to share the burden, if only for a little while, and have someone tell her it was all going to be okay. A moment later, he tilted her head up, holding her face in his hands.
“Look at me.” His voice was low and certain, and as he looked deep in her eyes, she felt compelled to believe whatever he told her. “All you gotta do is trust me.”
If only it were that simple, she thought. But she had to take the chance, so she nodded, giving him the answer he wanted.
He studied her a long moment before releasing her.
They climbed on his bike, and she pressed against his back, holding him tight, hoping she was right to put her faith in him.
***
When they got back to the clubhouse and climbed off the bike, Cat looked at how stiff and slow-moving Blood was.
She frowned. “Are
you in pain?”
“Had a building fall on him,” So-Cal put in and saw the glare that Blood gave him. Cat didn’t miss it either. Her mouth dropped open.
“A building fell on you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. I need to look at your wound. It could be bleeding.”
“I said I’m fine.”
Her hands landed on her hips. “Don’t give me the attitude. The packing needs to be changed anyway. Come on.” She pivoted and headed inside.
Blood’s brows shot up. “Attitude? Look who’s talking about throwing attitude?”
So-Cal chuckled until Blood turned and gave him a death stare.
A few minutes later, Blood was sitting shirtless on the side of his bed, Cat peeling off his bandages.
She glanced around. “This is your room?”
“When I’m here, yeah.” His eyes watched her, waiting for her to lift her baby blues from her task and meet his gaze. When she did, he looked into those expressive eyes he was quickly finding so easy to lose himself in. “The bed’s real soft if you want to try it out.”
He got the corner of her mouth to turn up as she fought a smile.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Cat. Why aren’t you married? I’m sure at least one idiot has tried.” She chose that moment to yank the bandage off, hard, and he winced, groaning, “Oh, right. That.”
“Ha ha. Very funny. You’re a real comedian.”
“I have my moments.”
“This would be easier if you were on your back.”
He grinned as he complied with the request. “A woman’s never had to tell me that twice.”
She rolled her eyes. “Thank you.”
“I aim to please.”
She changed out the packing.
“Cat.”
His quiet voice had her lifting her gaze.
“Why’d you leave?”
She dropped her eyes back to her task, one shoulder shrugging. “I needed you, and you weren’t here. I started to worry about my sister, and the anxiety took over.”
“Sorry. I know you’re worried. I should have called you. I meant to call you, but, ah…”