Outlaw’s Ink_A Motorcycle Club Romance_Metal Monsters MC

by Sophia Gray

  The blonde and the redhead grabbed their bags and left the room, slamming the door behind them. Billie rubbed her aching cheek. It seemed like she was safe.

  For the moment, anyway.

  Chapter 13

  Carter

  After Hazmat and Oiler left the room, Carter realized that his hands were aching. He looked down and saw that he'd clenched them into fists at some point during their argument. He took a deep breath and opened them again, flexing them a few times.

  “Thank you for standing up for me,” Billie said. Carter noticed that the tone of her voice had changed. The sassy, teasing bravado was gone, replaced with what sounded like real anxiety.

  Good, he thought. Now that she knows how serious this situation is, maybe she'll stop screwing around and behave like a proper hostage. I hope so, anyway, since it looks like I'm stuck with her for the foreseeable future thanks to my big fucking mouth.

  “Yeah, well, it's not because I like you or anything,” Carter said, “so don't get any ideas about that. Like I said, I'm a robber, not a murderer, that's all.”

  But then again, he'd never been a kidnapper either, and now he was dragging her along without a solid plan to get rid of her. Bizarrely, he felt like someone who'd been forced into taking an unwanted pet. Now he'd have to worry about feeding her and letting her go to the bathroom, all while making sure she didn't run away. What a pain in the ass.

  He thought about Hazmat, who'd always acted as a brutal and pitiless enforcer when they were members of the Hobgoblins. Carter hadn't exactly been squeamish about violence when it was needed, but Hazmat seemed to revel in it like some kind of ancient gladiator, smashing and stomping and screaming victoriously as he bathed in the blood of his enemies. Carter was known for being clever and good with plans and strategies, but when it came to carrying those plans out, Hazmat was an unholy force of nature.

  Hadn't that been the reason Carter had chosen Hazmat as his VP? Because Hazmat wasn't afraid of getting his hands dirty and doing what needed to be done? So why had Carter stood in his way now, when it could have saved them so much hassle?

  Well, his reasons for making Hazmat the VP of the Metal Monsters seemed irrelevant now, since their big ideas for founding an MC of their own had gone up in smoke.

  So much for my “plans and strategies,” Carter thought, feeling like the world's biggest asshole.

  “So, um, what happens now?” Billie asked, interrupting Carter's morbid thoughts.

  “For starters, we'll need to put some distance between us and The Whippoorwill,” Carter answered. “It's still too close to Cactus Hollow, and the cops will be searching every motel in the vicinity. And we shouldn't steal another car from this parking lot, or it'll let them know we've been here.”

  As he said this, Carter wondered whether Hazmat and Oiler would be smart enough to realize this as well, or if they'd already hotwired a ride and left. He briefly considered looking for them in the parking lot just in case, then decided it was best to stay out of sight as much as possible.

  “The problem,” he continued, “is that I have no idea where we could possibly hole up in this godforsaken part of Texas, or how we'd get there if we did. So I'll have to give it some serious thought, and while I do, it'd probably be best if you didn't distract me by talking.”

  “I might be able to help with that,” Billie said tentatively.

  Carter raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

  “I've got a cousin named Samantha who lives over in Caddo Corners—” she began.

  “We're not going to go see your cousin,” Carter said immediately. “You've probably been on the news by now as a kidnap victim. She'd call the cops on me the second our backs were turned. Nice try, though.”

  Billie rolled her eyes. “Of course we're not going to see Samantha,” she said. “I'm not an idiot, and I'm not plotting against you, no matter what you think. But there aren't any motels in Caddo Corners and it's far from the main highways, so the cops will probably overlook it. Hell, everyone else does.”

  “That still doesn't solve the problem of where we're going to spend the night,” Carter pointed out.

  “That's the best part,” Billie said. “When I used to visit Sam when we were kids, we'd play around in the woods at the edge of town, near the border of the Taysha Indian reservation. There was an old abandoned shack in those woods. No one would ever think to look for us there.”

  “Assuming the shack hasn't been torn down by now, or fallen down, or been ripped apart by a tornado,” Carter said, ticking the points off on his fingers, “or been converted to a summer cabin by yuppies...”

  “Okay, those are all possibilities,” Billie conceded. “But unless you've got a better plan...”

  Carter sighed. He didn't.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “We'll try to reach this shack, and hope it's still there. If not, I guess we'll be sleeping in the woods, so I hope there aren't any coyotes around there.”

  “There are, actually,” Billie said, “but since coyotes don't usually carry guns and you've got two of them, I think we'll be okay.”

  Carter grimaced. He didn't scare easily, but coyotes had always given him a sense of dread, ever since he'd seen one tear a rabbit to shreds when he was four years old. He'd never admitted his fear of them to anyone, but he certainly wasn't in a hurry to see one anytime soon, either.

  “So how far is Caddo Corners from here?” he asked. “Walking distance?”

  Billie winced. “Well, that's the bad news. There's a pretty wide stretch of desert between here and there. We wouldn't be able to make it on foot.”

  “Shit,” Carter spat. “I already told you, we can't steal a car from here without giving ourselves away. And we can’t go back to the sedan because it’s probably been reported as stolen by now. How the fuck are we supposed to get there without a ride?”

  She smiled. “Actually, I think I've got an idea about that, too.”

  Chapter 14

  Carter

  “You've got to be fucking kidding me,” Carter said.

  After a fifteen minute walk, they were standing outside a paddock surrounded by a wooden split-rail fence. A cluster of horses stood inside it, neighing and stamping their hooves.

  “Hey, you wanted a ride,” Billie said, “so here's your ride.”

  “I'm a biker, for Christ's sake,” Carter grumbled. “If I'm going to ride something, it had better have a fucking engine in it.”

  “Well, unless you're about to bend over and yank a motorcycle out of your ass, this is as good as it gets,” Billie retorted.

  Carter noticed that she was starting to relax and crack wise again, and he was surprised to find that he didn't mind it. Part of him actually preferred her when she was joking and having fun, even if she irritated him. It gave her a kind of radiant, self-assured glow he'd rarely seen in women before.

  That—plus the curves of her tits and the amazing way her ass swayed back and forth when she swaggered—reminded him of why he'd been so attracted to her in the bar the previous night.

  But then, that already seemed like it was weeks ago, given everything that had happened since.

  “What's the matter, anyway?” she asked. “Haven't you ever been on a horse before?”

  “Sure I have,” Carter answered.

  Billie put her hands on her hips and smiled at him. “Okay, let me try this again. Did you ever actually ride a horse, or did you sit on one at a farm when you were a kid and have them lead you around?”

  Carter cleared his throat uncomfortably. That was exactly the context in which he'd been on a horse before, and it was also the same day he'd had his ugly encounter with the coyote, so he didn't think about it too often if he could help it.

  Billie laughed. “All right, that's not a problem. I'll show you. You won't need to know much. We're just riding a few miles, not jumping fences or doing tricks or anything. Come on.”

  She opened the gates of the fence and entered the paddock. Carter followed.

  “
How did you know about this place?” he asked.

  “Almost everyone in Texas knows about Erasmus Tiller's horse farm,” she said. “He's been raising them and showing them at state fairs and 4-H events for over fifty years now. Shit, he's gotta be ninety years old if he's a day. That's how I know he won't see us—I went on a couple dates with his grandson a few years ago, and he once told me that the old buzzard spends half the day napping. So as long as we don't do anything too loud or stupid, we should be fine.”

  “They used to hang people for this, you know,” Carter said.

  “Huh?” She was already walking among the horses, trying to decide on one.

  “Horse thievery,” Carter clarified. “Back in the days of the Old West, stealing a horse was a sure way to end up dangling from a rope.”

  “I've seen that in the movies,” Billie said, “but didn't they also usually hang bank robbers and kidnappers too?”

  Carter shook his head. “It was different. They took horse-thieving especially seriously since without their horses, people couldn't get around or do their farming, or even go get the doctor if their wives or kids got sick. Having their horses taken could ruin their lives, so horse thieves were considered the scum of the fucking earth.”

  “Well, Old Man Tiller has about three dozen other horses, and the property he owns around here is worth tens of millions of dollars,” Billie replied, “so I think he'll survive. He's not going to do a head count of his stock for a few more hours, either, so we should be long gone by then.”

  Carter snickered. “And even when he does report them stolen, it's not like the cops will automatically assume it was us. Most fugitives wouldn't use livestock to make their escape. They'll probably think it was just some kids or something.”

  “Precisely,” Billie agreed. She sounded very proud of herself. “Here, this looks like a good one for you. He's older and he seems pretty calm.” She pointed to a sway-backed palomino.

  “Cool,” Carter said, striding over to it. “Help me get on.”

  “Whoa, hang on!” said Billie. “You can't just hop on. You have to introduce yourself to the horse first, so he'll be comfortable letting you ride him.”

  Carter let out an exasperated sigh, then leaned over and spoke directly to the palomino. “Hello. It's nice to meet you. I'd shake hands, but you don't have any. Now how about helping me out of a jam by letting me ride you for a bit? Yeah?”

  The palomino flicked its ears and turned its face away from him.

  “You're gonna have to do better than that. Come on, be gentle with him. Talk to him and pet him a little, so he'll trust you.”

  He took a deep breath and leaned in closer, stroking the horse's face. It whinnied quietly and bent its head, letting him caress its nose and ears. They felt like velvet, and Carter found that petting them was strangely relaxing. His nerves had been in overdrive since the bank robbery, and this was the first time he'd been able to soothe them.

  “That's right,” he said quietly. “You're a nice horse, aren't you? Sure you are. You're just going to come with us for a little while, but there's no need to be scared. We're gonna take good care of you. Everything's going to be fine.”

  Carter turned and saw that Billie was watching him with a small smile on her lips.

  “What?” he asked defensively.

  “You know, when you aren't doing the whole big bad tough guy act, you're actually kind of a sweetie,” she said.

  “For fuck's sake, if you're going to make fun of me...” he snarled, backing away from the horse.

  “No, I'm not making fun of you,” she insisted. “I really mean it. Your sensitive side is pretty sexy. Besides, it looks like you're starting to get on his good side. Do you want to try sitting on him now?”

  “Sure, I guess,” Carter said dubiously.

  “Okay, put your saddlebag up there first, just to test the waters a little,” she said. “Remember to be slow and gentle with it, and try not to make any sudden moves or you'll spook him.”

  Carter removed the saddlebag from his shoulder and approached the horse again, carefully placing it on the animal's back. The palomino whickered softly and its tail twitched, but it remained in place.

  “Very good,” Billie said encouragingly. “Now I'm going to give you a boost so you can get a leg over him. Ready?”

  Billie crouched down and laced her fingers together next to the palomino. Carter put one hand on the horse's back and stepped up onto her hands with one boot, throwing his other leg over the horse. It whinnied and reared up briefly, and for a moment, Carter thought he might fall.

  “Don't panic,” Billie said, “and don't pull on his mane. Just try to stay calm and keep your balance. If he knows you're spooked, it'll spook him too.”

  “I ain't spooked,” Carter said, wobbling unsteadily and trying to stay on.

  Billie laughed. “Prove it, then, big man.”

  Carter willed himself to be calm and started to balance himself out. The palomino's movements slowed until it stood still again.

  “Not bad for a first-timer,” Billie said. “Okay, now it's my turn.”

  She strolled over to a brown and white pinto and lovingly cradled its face in her hands for a few minutes, cooing softly and whispering to it. Then she kept her hand on its neck as she walked around to its side. At first, Carter thought she wouldn't be able to hop up on her own—but she pulled herself onto the horse's back like an expert, and the pinto barely flinched.

  Now that she was sitting astride the creature with her shoulders squared and the afternoon sunlight filtered through her auburn hair, Carter couldn't help but marvel at how beautiful and graceful she looked. The first time he'd seen her, he'd wanted to fuck her, no question about it.

  But now there was something deeper in his longing for her, a peculiar ache that he wasn't used to feeling. He'd been with plenty of women before, but he'd never found himself as awestruck by one as he did now.

  “You're staring,” Billie remarked with a grin.

  “I'm just impressed, that's all,” Carter said, trying to sound casual. “You climbed up on that thing like it was nothing. Do you ride a lot?”

  “Sure, all the time. There's a horse farm outside of Cactus Hollow, and they let me ride in exchange for helping out around the stables. Sometimes it's a nice change of pace from pouring beers and shots, and anyway, it's nothing compared to that mechanical bull. Speaking of which, are you ready to ride? We've got some serious ground to cover if we're going to make it to the shack before nightfall.”

  “Okay,” Carter said. “So how do I do this?”

  “Use your heels to gently prod the horse into moving forward,” she instructed. “Don't dig in too hard, just give him a little nudge to let him know what you want. Careful not to go too fast, though. It's hard to stay on top without reins or a saddle.”

  Carter braced himself and carefully nudged the horse's sides with the heels of his boots. The palomino grunted and started to trot toward the open gate. Carter felt himself lurch backward, but he managed to stay on.

  “Nicely done,” Billie laughed. “Time to hit the dusty trail, cowboy. Let's go!”

  Carter tried to hold back a smile, but it came anyway. Damn, but she was ballsy. Her sense of adventure was infectious, and he discovered that he was actually starting to enjoy her company.

  He wondered how things might have unfolded between them if they'd met under different circumstances—if he'd just been riding through town instead of on a robbery spree, if he'd taken his chances with the mechanical bull and gone home with her last night after all.

  He tried to remind himself that once it was time to cross the border into Mexico, he'd have to cut her loose—she probably had family who'd be worried about her and a life she'd want to get back to.

  That was hard to think about, so instead he watched the curves of her body and the jiggle of her tantalizing ass as she rode ahead of him.

  Chapter 15

  Billie

  Waves of heat shimmered off the des
ert sand as they rode. They'd been at it for almost three hours, and the sun's rays were still unforgiving as it baked the sand and their bodies.

  Billie patted her pinto's hot hide and it neighed unhappily. Foam was beginning to gather at the corners of its mouth, and its steps were becoming more tired and plodding. It would need food and water soon or else it would collapse. Clyde's horse would, too.

  Before they'd left The Whippoorwill, they'd taken the two bottles of water from the mini-fridge so they could try to stay hydrated during their journey. But even though the water turned warm fast and Billie tried to restrain herself from taking anything but tiny sips from it, her supply still ran out quickly, and now she was left without a drop. Worse, she could feel the sun burning her exposed face and arms, and the top of her head felt like it was on fire.