Never Kiss an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love)
Page 26
I couldn't creep toward thirty still acting like I was twenty-one. No fucking way.
When I came into a cool, dark clearing, I stopped to admire the view. The moonlight came down through the break in the trees. I walked over to the smoothest mountain boulder and sat, feeling the dew veil against my legs.
God, what a beautiful night. So, why was it becoming so ugly?
Soft, transparent mist swirled low on the ground. They didn't call them the Smoky Mountains for nothing.
I was busy focusing on the beauty when I heard something snap nearby. I spun and saw a figure coming through the darkness. Figuring it was Crawford, I bolted up, folding my arms, ready to hear his pathetic apologies.
“Look, before you start, I'm not in the mood for excuses.”
“Excuses? My, my, girl. I'd say you're right out of a dream, standing here in the dark up in these mountains, but you're too angry to be a fantasy.” His voice was older, too arrogant and gravely to be Craw's.
I whipped around and faced a tall, rugged looking man with a cap pulled tight over his eyes. He wore tight jeans and an open shirt. He looked like he'd just wandered out of a lumber mill or something.
Great. Running into weirdos up here in the boonies was exactly what I needed.
“Sorry. I...I thought you were somebody else.” I looked him up and down, sizing him up. “What're you doing out here?”
He smiled, raising an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same thing. Seems you've gone a long way from the party happening down by the springs.”
Crap. How did he know? We must've been really noisy, or else he just knew his turf that well.
Better than me, if I had to run.
Shuffling my feet uncomfortably, I tried not to think about how fucked I really was. I didn't know this man, nor his intentions.
Nobody except Crawford knew I'd run off – and knowing how much of a bitter wimp he was, he wouldn't be coming to my rescue. I could only hold my ground, and hope to God this was just some eccentric mountain man wanting to make friendly conversation.
“Too noisy for me,” I lied. “I wanted to get away and enjoy the forest beauty while I'm up here. I don't get out to the Smokies as often as I'd like.”
His thin smile widened, and he took a step closer. I was about to bolt when he flopped down on the boulder next to me, spreading his arms wide, staring up at the sky.
“It's a gorgeous fucking night, ain't it? My name's Richard, by the way.” He tilted his head up and shot me a wink. He reached into his pocket.
I couldn't help but smile and feel a little more ease creep in when he drew out a small silver flask.
“Care for a swig? It's our very own moonshine. My grandpa's recipe.”
I shook my head. Okay, maybe he wasn't the danger I'd feared at first.
Just a big, drunken mountain goof. I hoped. I'd seen his type before out hiking, and they never did any harm.
Friendly or not, there was no way I'd share a flask with a stranger.
“Suit yourself, princess.” He popped the cap and took a long pull, then emptied the rest on the ground. “I was bullshitting you about the moonshine. It's just plain ol' Jack.”
“Decent choice. Do you come here often, or maybe live nearby?” I decided to make small talk, taking my place several rocks away, fixing my eyes on the same distant stares filling his eyes.
“I'm a hiker. Nothing builds a man up like a bull better than taking these mountains one step at a time. It's always an adventure up here. You ever see the abandoned ghost towns tucked back in these mountains? People worked and lived and died in these parts for generations before they flew the coop, leaving their homes and a few old tractors behind. There's something charming about that. It takes you back, away from all this shit in our lives, you know? Simpler times. I like 'em.”
I nodded glumly. Redneck or not, he was nice, and eerily in touch with my own feelings tonight.
Just then, I'd have given anything to get away from all my frustrations. Sure, I could hop a flight to Europe or the Caribbean next week, like I'd done on my summers off from college, but those getaways never lasted forever.
“Tell me more about your adventures again. Sometimes I think I could use some of that.”
He tucked the flask back in his pocket, then sat up and smiled. “I do a lot of trucking when I'm away from home. It's hell half the time, honestly, driving down the Florida panhandle or all the way out to Cali-fucking-fornia with some boss riding my ass. But there's always a new experience every route, and that's what keeps me working more than just the money. New faces, new things, new thrills. You haven't been living 'til you've been through Wyoming in the winter and almost felt the wind blow your rig over.”
“Sounds scary,” I said, warming up more than I really should. A lot of it was the alcohol, a delayed buzz in my veins, but his tone sounded so honest, authentic in a way all the rich boys and girls I always hung around with couldn't be.
“You'd better believe it. The shitty parts of LA will make you feel alive too, when some gangbanger decides to take potshots at your truck just for sport. It's funny how being on the open road and putting up with so much shit makes a man appreciate the quiet more.”
He stood up and walked out into the clearing, stretching toward the sky. I believed him.
“You said you don't come out here often? Well, hell, neither do I. And that's what makes me love it when I do. When you're busy dealing with crowded cities and traffic jams half the time like I am, these mountains are a slice of heaven. I wouldn't trade my adventures for nothing, even the shitty parts, because they make home what it is.” He turned, his eyes narrowed. “Don't tell me this is as wild as you get? Skipping out on your friends and looking like you're about to freak the second some stranger says 'hello?'”
Christ, was it really that obvious? I smiled uneasily, shaking my head.
“Sorry. I'm a little on edge tonight. Like I said, I don't come up here often. You never know what a strange man might want out in the boonies.”
“What if he just wants to give you a good time?” He paused, just long enough to feel my heart sink, while tension roiled my belly. “I'm not talking about fucking, girl.”
That caught me off guard. I twisted my head, stood up, creeping closer as he extended a hand.
“You're too pretty for me anyway. Let's be friends for the night. I'll take you out for a burger and a malt.” His smile grew, and I watched him reach into his pocket, this time taking out a pack of cigarettes.
I didn't know what the hell to think. He was offering me a chance to leave my comfort zone behind. I had a weird feeling he could give me something authentic too, if only for an evening. He wasn't really my type – even for a fling – but if he really didn't care about that...
“No, Richard, I really shouldn't. I don't know you. My friends are waiting.”
“Aw, come on. What's your name?”
“Megan.”
His hand shot out, taking mine in his after I'd turned him down before, giving my fingers a tight, over-friendly squeeze.
“There. Now that we know each other, what do you say? You're a local, aren't you? We'll go get some grub and keep this conversation going. Then I'll drop you off before midnight. I know you want to get outta here, I can see it in your face. What've you got to lose?”
His soft, whimsical tone held a challenge. I hated being taunted, and he wasn't even doing it openly.
He shrugged impatiently. “Go tell your girlfriends if you need to. Let 'em know you're going out with Richard for a bite. That's all this is, babe, I promise. What do you think's gonna happen? You'll wind up on some late night murder mystery show with your eyes blacked out and duct tape on your mouth?”
Laughter belted out his gut, echoing through the shadowy forest. His laugh was high, sharp, and so unexpected I couldn't stop myself from giggling too.
“Okay, you win. You don't look like a killer or a rapist.”
He began walking me down the path, the one leading further and f
urther into the Smokies, away from Crawford's private property.
One more wink was all I needed to let him lead me along like a stupid schoolgirl.
If only I'd done something then. I could've run, yelled, screamed bloody murder, or at least re-awakened my old instinct to sober up and ask myself why the hell I decided to walk through the eerie mountains to a total stranger's pickup truck.
But he never made a move, not even when I was securely in his passenger seat, and we headed down the lonesome highway. He had to lure me deeper first.
* * * *
I flipped the greasy burger over in my hands. I was hungry, yeah, but the deserted diner offered up some serious crap. I couldn't finish it.
The conversation wasn't going much better. Richard kept talking about his ex, some woman who walked out on him when he was my age, which must've been over a decade ago just looking at him.
I wasn't in the mood for lonely, stupid men tonight, however nice they might be. Whatever, at least it was better than hanging around, waiting for Crawford's awkward apologies. I reached into my purse for my phone at one point, only to realize I'd stupidly left it somewhere near the pool.
“Fuck,” I sputtered, choking down a sickeningly sweet sip of strawberry milkshake.
“Yeah, I thought so too, baby doll. They always love you and leave you real fast, the bitches. If she'd stuck around, I'm sure my life would've been a lot more exciting by now. I wouldn't have to work my ass off every day and take these mountain hikes. Hell, I'd probably have a family, maybe a house, instead of renting a studio apartment above that goddamned forsaken place.”
I blinked, barely even paying attention to his long, rambling life story anymore. “Hang on. I need to hit the restroom.”
I headed in and splashed cool water over my face, looking for a pay phone on the way out. There had been one – I could see the faint gray outline where it used to attach to the wall, now ripped out, leaving a shadow like a relic from another time.
A cab ride home sounded awfully good right now. Unfortunately, short of asking the restaurant to make a call on their business phone, it wasn't looking like an option.
Richard was weird and needy, but he'd kept me company, and he didn't seem like a total creeper. Besides, I was getting more tired by the second, and what harm would there be in one more ride home?
If he was really going to ambush me, he'd have done it in the mountains.
I'd let him drop me off in my neighborhood so I could stumble home. He didn't need to see my parents' huge house and get his hopes up about doing favors for a woman who was richer and prettier than he'd ever be.
Total bitch? Yeah, sure. And also a very tired one.
Jesus, I was drained. It must've been the mountain walk. By the time I got back to the table, I could barely make my knees work, and I covered a brutal yawn with my hand.
I wanted to go to sleep right there. Luckily, he settled our bill with a waitress who was probably bored out of her skull. She didn't even stop to laugh at his wise cracks.
Closing my eyes for a second took what felt like five minutes. When I opened them again, Richard stood over me, pushing his hand into mine.
“Damn, girl. You're crashing on me, ain't you? We'd better get you home. Come on.”
“I can stand,” I moaned weakly.
No, no, I couldn't.
The instant I tried, my knees buckled, and I slumped into his arms. He scooped me up like a sleepy kitten and carried me outside, pushing me into the passenger seat, complete with a ratty old pillow he'd fished out of the back.
“Hold up, I need to give you my address,” I said, struggling to remember the numbers in my own head as another jaw-popping yawn conquered me. “It's...uh...it's...”
“Don't think too hard, baby,” he growled, starting up his truck. “I already know where you live. Just go to sleep. You'll need that energy for tomorrow.”
What the fuck was this man talking about? Tomorrow? How did he know anything about me?
“Tomorrow? Huh?”
It felt like an entire hour slipped by before he answered me.
“That's the day you find out you fucked up bad tonight. I haven't picked up a new girl since Loretta left me when I was still a sad, broken little man, trying to make an honest living. That shit I told you at the diner tonight was true, but you didn't care. Nobody ever gives a fucking shit about some asshole hauling loads across the country. Whatever, baby, it's not your fault. You're a stuck up, rich little cunt, and I'm gonna give you something to care about.”
I tried to jerk up, tried to scream, but I couldn't seem to move anything except my eyes. What happened to me? I hadn't been alone with him in the diner at all, except when I used the bathroom twice.
Twice. Goddamn it.
The first time, I'd come back, and our food was waiting for us. That had to be when he did it, slipped something into my food or drink, springing the trap he'd set from the very beginning.
The one I'd been too stupid and drunk to see.
“You...you lied.”
His high, shrill laughter split the night, and everything in my head started spinning. “What? Were you expecting hugs and kisses and free meals from strange men in the woods? I don't know what kind of stupid bitch you are, but you're mine now. Sleep tight, little girl. And by the way, the name's Ricky. It fits me now. You ever heard of a pimp named Richard?”
Ricky. The last coherent thought before the blackness swallowed me up was knowing that I'd probably hate that name forever.
* * * *
Oh, how right I'd been. I knew it the next day, when he splashed ice cold water in my face, and I realized I was completely naked.
He had my driver's license in his hand, twirling it around like a wild card in some poker game he'd just won.
“Jeeesus H. Christ, woman! I think you've just made me the happiest man in the world.”
I glared at him, saying nothing. If it wasn't for the fear constantly churning in my stomach, I would've spit in his face. I hated his arrogance, his treachery, and my own stupidity, but I hated his cruel joy more than anything else.
“Let me go, Richard. It's not too late to pull back. You can drop me off with the cops, my family, I don't care. I just want to go home. I won't even press charges.”
Yeah, right. He saw right through my hollow promises. Next thing I knew, his palm slapped me across the face, so sharp and sudden my whole head spun.
“It's Ricky, bitch. Get used to it. I'll let you off light because you're something else.” He paused and sniffed, staring excitedly at my license again. “You know, I really thought I'd hit the jackpot when I got myself a pretty mountain girl, all doped up and goddamned beautiful. But shit, you should've told me you were a Wilder girl sooner. Your pussy might make me retire early!”
Bastard. I swallowed the hard, hateful lump in my throat and forced myself to look at him, ignoring the fiery sting on my cheek.
“You're going to ransom me, then? Let me talk to Daddy. I can get you the money faster than if you do it alone, I swear, he'll –“
Ricky cut me off with his nasty, shrill laughter again. “Oh, please. You really think I'd give you up for a few bags of cash, only to have a SWAT team storm in here and tear this place apart? I've got better plans for you, little princess. You're gonna make some rich, twisted motherfucker very fucking happy. I just gotta spread the news through the grapevine and find myself a buyer.”
My heart started pounding. I stood up, only to feel him throw me back down against the shitty bed, the flimsy mattress snapping against my spine.
“Don't do this, asshole! You have no idea who you're dealing with. You will pay, one way or another. My family won't let me go. My friends know where I disappeared. We can't be that far from town, somebody'll come looking and then you'll regret the night you saw me in that forest.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you're not the first bitch to say that, trust me. You're just the richest little cunt I've ever had in here.”
The richest? For the first time I lifted my head up and took a good look around.
The door to the small room was cracked. Ricky sensed my hesitation, and he marched over, flinging it open. Across the hall, there was another room, also with its door wide open.
A dead-eyed, gray-faced woman sat on a bed, wearing nothing but cheap heels and torn stockings. She took a long look at me, pushing her long greasy hair behind one ear, and then turned back to her arm as if seeing a beautiful young woman with hot tears running down her face was completely normal here.
That passive, defeated look told me everything about the hellhole I'd fallen into. So did the rubber band around her arm. And so did the syringe she stabbed into her vein a second later, pushing it deep, until the junk hit her system and she let out a loud, heavenly moan.
“You starting to understand? A girl like you must have a fancy education. You're not stupid. Take a good, long look, bitch. That's your future. Only I ain't letting you have none of that junk. Gotta keep you happy and healthy for top dollar.”
I lost it. I couldn't bear to take another look at the miserable woman, holed up just like me, and I couldn't stand for the pimp to see me cry either. I buried my face in my hands, letting the hot tears come, until he pinched my shoulder so hard I looked up.
“Stop crying, beautiful. I won't let you get hooked on shit. You're too valuable to me. Shit, I'm gonna make every boy who comes in here use rubbers too. I'm not letting anybody fuck you up with damage, drugs, or disease while you're working off your rent. You'll be treated like a queen compared to these other junkie whores.”
I shook my head again. His cruel words blurred together, becoming incomprehensible. What the fuck was he getting at?
“What is this place?” My heart dropped another inch as I said it.
Deep down, I already knew.
Ricky stepped forward, wearing the same serpent smile I'd come to know too well, the one that strangled me, poisoned me, killed the woman named Megan.
“You kidding? Haven't you ever seen our billboards? Or are you one of those bitches who pays more attention to texting on her phone than the damned road when she's going down the highway?”