Stormy's Thunder: Satan's Devils MC Utah

by Manda Mellett

  The following days pass me by in the same kind of blur. Cat starts packing up the house, putting stuff aside to go into storage until we get our own place, and taking truckloads of other things to Goodwill. I offer to help, but she prefers to do it herself. In some ways I think it’s cathartic. I lend my support when I catch her with tears in her eyes as she packs up her mom and dad’s personal stuff.

  The real estate agent thinks she can get a good price for the house—partly down to the repairs that I’d done.

  As the house empties, it begins to echo around us, and I start to think we need to get out of here soon. It’s like living in a coffin of memories. Apart from the bedroom furniture, the desk, sofa and her father’s old chair, most of the items have been removed. I’ve promised her we’ll start afresh with new, most of what was here was old-fashioned and well used.

  I still haven’t got answers, but I’ve started drawing a picture. I just need something to fall into place. While Cat’s great to bounce ideas off of, I wonder whether I could do with some more eyes on the problem. Bolt would be good, as would Rascal—if they’d still give me the time of day, of course.

  I’ve been gone two months.

  I want to go back. I’m ready.

  As long as I have Cat by my side.

  23

  Cat…

  Finn’s getting restless. So am I.

  If it was just a case of having to close up this house just so I could start a new lonely life, I’d have found it much harder. But along with being sad at the memories that keep coming back, I’m optimistic about the future.

  I’m falling in love with Finn. I haven’t told him that yet, but I suspect he knows. Our bodies do the talking each night when we’re in bed, or, during the day when the impulse hits us. He hasn’t told me what he feels for me either, but I hope he feels the same way. I’m more than happy to align my future with his, even though it’s one that’s uncertain.

  If his club won’t take him back, we’ll still be together. If they do, for six months we might not have as much time to ourselves. I can survive on my own while it’s necessary, I’ve done it long enough. I’ll be able to keep busy, finding a new job and settling will be where I start, making a home for him to come back to when he regains his position with his club.

  Of course, he might already be what he calls out bad. In that case, we’ll make our own path.

  “That’s it.” I walk into the lounge where Finn’s staring at the screen of his laptop.

  “Shit, babe. You alright?” Immediately he stands and enfolds me in his arms.

  I’ve just seen Star loaded onto the horse trailer. I know he’ll be spoiled and cared for by Seamus, who’d brought his granddaughter with him. I wipe away a tear. “It’s the end of an era. He’s been at the farm since I was a kid.” Sniffing, I attempt a smile. “Georgia, the granddaughter, had a shine in her eyes much like I had when he first arrived here. He’ll be fine.”

  “If we could have taken him—”

  I place my fingers over his mouth. “We couldn’t. I know that. I can’t stay here, so this would have happened whether we were together or not.”

  He pulls me in closer, kissing the top of my head. “When we get a place, we’ll get a dog.”

  I clutch at him. I know he’s not had experience of animals, yet he knows that’s what I want. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I love him, but I choke the words back. Is it too early? What if he can’t reciprocate?

  But I lose my chance when there’s a knock at the door.

  Sighing, I say, “I wonder if Seamus has come back?” I try to think if there was something or some instruction I’d forgotten to give him.

  He pats my ass. “It probably is. You got this?”

  I got this. I nod.

  I walk to the front door without bothering to look and throw it open. “Whatcha forgot…” My words taper off. There’s a man outside who I’ve never seen before.

  Not only is he a stranger, but he’s not particularly polite. He pushes me backward.

  “Finn!” I scream out, and then again as the man spins me around, forcing my arms behind me, binding my wrists tight.

  My eyes focus in front of me. Two other men are fighting with Finn, they must have come in via the back door and have taken him by surprise.

  “Finn!” I screech when he takes a hard blow to the chin.

  “What the fuck?” The man pushing me into the room sounds angry. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  There’s another man, which makes four in total. The one holding me pushes me into his arms. I fight, kicking back with my legs, but apart from a grunt, I do no damage.

  “Stop fighting, bitch, or your man is dead.” He nods toward the gun that’s now trained on Finn.

  “Her man?” the first intruder scoffs. “Stormy’s never had a bitch in his life. But I’m mighty interested in what he’s doing here.” He cocks an eyebrow toward Finn and raises his gun in a threatening manner.

  “Gun.” Stormy’s eyes flare.

  “Boss? She seemed like she was expecting someone,” the man holding me points out. “If someone’s coming here, we better make this quick.”

  The man I now know is Gun, one of the SEALs who served beside Stormy unless I’m mistaken, slowly nods his head.

  “That right?” he tosses to me over his shoulder.

  “Yes,” I confirm, hating that my voice sounds weak. “A local farmer who’s picking some of my animals up.” They’ve all gone now, but I’ll think of something he could have left. Feed, perhaps? “Oh, and the real estate agent. He’s coming to get the keys.” We left those with him a day ago, planning to vacate in the next few days.

  Gun’s back stiffens. “Stormy being here complicates things.”

  “We taking them both?” one of the men holding Stormy asks. “Or just getting rid of him here?”

  Gun looks around the room. When his face turns my way, he’s wearing a satisfied grin. “Seems they’ve done all the work for us. There’s a truck outside, we’ll move all the boxes and put them in there, then move the truck into the barn. Anyone who comes calling will just assume they’ve moved out.”

  “What do you want here, Gun?” Stormy snaps.

  “Well, I didn’t want you,” his former SEAL buddy says. Somehow, I don’t think he’s much of a friend now.

  I wouldn’t expect good vibes to be coming from anyone who’d invaded my house, but Gun’s positively icy. If I were here on my own, I’d be a mess, but I’m staying strong because of Stormy.

  “So, what are we going to do about him?”

  I suck in a breath while internally screaming, Don’t hurt him, please.

  “Stormy’s been a thorn in my fuckin’ side for far too long. It would give me great pleasure to put a bullet through his head. But why’s he here? That’s what we need to find out.” Gun steps forward getting right up into Stormy’s face. “I’ve got an old friend who’d probably like to say hi, so you’re coming with us.”

  All of a sudden I feel a prick in my neck and the world goes black.

  I wake sometime later feeling groggy. When I try to move, my hands are tied, as are my feet. I’m curled up in a fetal position, with a strange vibration under me. My head pounds as though I’ve been on a drinking binge. I open my eyes, blinking hard until a shape by my side comes into focus.

  I presume they’d given me a drug to knock me out. Finn looks like he’s not been so lucky. His face is bloodied, one eye is swollen closed.

  “Finn,” I say, quietly, not knowing who’s around me.

  I get no reply. He’s unconscious. Oh God, Finn. What have they done to you?

  I flop like a fish as I try to move onto my back so I can look around. I presume I’m in a truck of some sort, but wherever we’re going, the road is really smooth. The drone of the engine is loud though.

  “Don’t worry, Princess. We’ll be there soon.” The voice is that of Gun.

  I glance up as best I can, and watch as he grabs a handful of Finn’s h
air, pulling up his head.

  “Sleeping Beauty’s still out, I see.” He sounds satisfied as he lets Finn’s head smash down with a bump. He sinks to his haunches and stares at me. “We’ll be coming into land, shortly. I suggest you fasten your seat belt. Oh,” he snorts a laugh, “you can’t.” He chuckles as if he’s made a good joke. “Well, let’s hope we have a safe landing.”

  I’m on a plane?

  “Where, where are you taking us? And w-why?”

  “I think you’ve got some answers for me. As for him,” he shoots a look of hate toward Finn, “I find it very interesting that he was with you. Why was he?”

  I don’t want to be interrogated now. I want Finn awake and able to guide me. He knows Gun, he probably knows what I should or shouldn’t say. Instead of answering, I groan instead.

  “My head hurts. I feel sick.”

  He jumps back as though scalded. “Try not to puke,” he instructs as he stands. “If you have to, vomit his way.” He nods at Finn, then his eyes come back to me. “We’ll be having that chat soon.”

  Almost as soon as he leaves, my ears begin to pop. The plane must have started to descend. I’ve no idea how long I’ve been out or where we’re going to land. Or, even if I’m still in the United States.

  Finn doesn’t move as we bump down onto the runway, nor when Gun’s men appear. He moans slightly as he’s picked up in a fireman’s lift, but his eyes stay firmly shut. Is he faking? Or hurt too badly to come around. I pray it’s the former.

  Me? Well, I’m subjected to the same treatment—carried ignominiously off the plane and dumped into the back of a truck alongside Finn. My brief glimpse of my surroundings gives nothing away, just distant trees and lush grass encircling what is probably a private runway.

  This time the journey isn’t so smooth, and I really do start to feel ill as a truck of some sort bumps the way along the road. Tied as I am, I can’t protect my head, which slams down time and again. My headache gets worse. When I roll at a tight bend, my stomach churns and I can’t prevent the vomit coming out of my mouth.

  I’m scared, so very scared. I’ve been kidnapped and stolen away from my home and I can’t imagine for what reason. The only thing that makes it bearable is that I’m not alone. But will Finn ever wake up?

  Who knows? My gut twists, thinking I could never hear his voice again, or feel his arms around me. The very idea forces me to acknowledge how much he’s come to mean to me in such a short time. I couldn’t imagine moving on without him.

  “I love you,” I say softly, hoping somehow my words will filter through his head.

  My headache hasn’t improved at all by the time the truck takes a final set of nausea-causing turns and finally pulls to a stop. The back doors are rolled up. It’s dark outside. Just how long has it been since I was dragged from my home?

  “Get them inside.”

  The men don’t hesitate to follow Gun’s commands. The first man steps in, lifts Finn in the same way he carried him before, but the one coming for me hesitates, finally gingerly picking me up bridal style. I realise he’s trying to avoid the vomit that’s stained my front.

  It’s a shame I’ve already brought everything up, I’d love to puke all over him.

  Even in the darkness I can make out we’ve been brought to a cabin, but I have no time to see much as I’m rushed into the house and taken to a room. There, I’m unceremoniously thrown down onto a single bed—well cot to be precise—there’s nothing comfortable about it. At last, the ties that bind me are cut, and I can move my arms and legs, or at least I hope I will when I get some more feeling back.

  I hurt. Every muscle is crying out from being kept immobile for so long. At first I can’t move, but ignore that fact as I realise Finn’s not here, and the man looks like he’s going to leave without bringing him in.

  “Where’s Finn?” I cry out.

  “Don’t you worry about him. You just worry about yourself. And before you look to escape, there’s no way out. You just sit here like a good little girl until we’re ready for you.”

  Ready for me? For what? My mind conjures up possibilities which I don’t want to imagine.

  “Finn. He’s hurt. Are you getting him medical attention?”

  The man rolls his eyes. “What do you fucking think?” He leaves, slamming the door behind him.

  I’d like to say I launch to my feet and throw myself at the door, but I’m far slower than that. I roll, groan, and when I finally get my feet on the floor, my legs give way under my weight making me clutch at the bed. My head swims, probably due to whatever drug they injected into me. Eventually I manage to make my way to the door, only to find it’s locked.

  Weakly I bang on it.

  No one comes.

  I sink to the floor, put my head in my hands, and cry, hating myself for being weak. But nothing has prepared me for this experience, even when Weston chained me up. There’d been a strange comfort in knowing I was in my own home, and with him being my cousin, I’d had hope that he’d return to release me.

  Surely a former SEAL wouldn’t hurt a woman like me?

  But he already has. He’s kidnapped me, flown me God knows where and is keeping me captive. I shudder, thinking there can be no good reason why he’s brought me here. If he had questions he wanted me to answer, why not ask them at home?

  Perhaps he would have done if he hadn’t recognised Finn?

  But he came with three other men. They must have managed to get in via the back door which I’m sure I’d locked. That’s the only way they could have taken Finn by surprise.

  Angry at myself, I swipe my tears away. Crying doesn’t help.

  Making a concerted effort, I get to my feet, stretching my aching legs and rubbing at the red rings on my wrists. Rolling my shoulders, I try to relieve the ache there and glance around. The only furniture in the room is the basic bed, but there is a window. Quickly I go to it, only to find it’s been nailed shut. I pick at the gap, but it’s tightly jammed. I lose two fingernails before I give up.

  Christ, I’m sore, I think to myself as I take a step back, I stink of vomit—I’m a mess. Only now do I become conscious of another discomfort. My bladder is full. I’ve no idea how long it’s been since I last relieved myself, but I suspect it’s been more than a few hours.

  This room doesn’t come with an en suite, and my last resort would be to pee on the floor.

  I go to the door and start to bang on it, calling out, “Hey, I need a bathroom.”

  For a while, my cries go unanswered. When I finally hear footsteps stomping on the wooden floor, I’m hopping from leg to leg, in desperate need of relief though also scared, regretting I needed to call for attention. But what else could I do? I’m so desperate, I could easily wet myself.

  As the sound grows louder, I take a step back. It’s Gun himself who opens the door.

  “What you making this noise for?”

  “I need a bathroom.”

  He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “You fuckin’ bitches are all the same. Can’t hold your piss. Well, come on. Best to get comfortable while you can.”

  It sounds ominous. He waves me out of the door in front of him. Have I a chance to escape? But what can I do? He’s armed, and while visions of me headbutting him or kicking him where it hurts flit across my mind, I’m wary he’s a man who’s trained in unarmed combat. Perhaps for now it’s best to act docile and hope a better chance to get free comes along.

  He puts his hand on my shoulder when I come alongside a door. With his other, he reaches around me and opens it. Thank God it’s a bathroom.

  Stepping inside fast, I turn to shut the door behind me, but he keeps hold of it. “Leave it ajar.”

  Relieve my bladder while he’s only just outside able to listen to me? The commode is a few steps away, I wouldn’t be able to sit and make sure he didn’t push the door open and watch me. My steps falter. I’m a private bathroom person, I always have been.

  Pressure in my stomach reminds me I haven’t got mu
ch choice.

  Suck it up, I tell myself. Maybe when I’m feeling more comfortable, I’ll be able to come up with a plan to get free.

  The bathroom has only a small frosted window that I’d never be able to get out of, but surely some opportunity will present itself? Or, he’ll let me go. There’s no reason to kidnap me. I’ve no money and no one to pay a ransom.

  Maybe Finn will have some ideas. If he’s still alive.

  I suppress the thought that he might be dead already. I have to hang on to the idea he’s breathing and waiting to get me free.

  With no option, I step forward. At least the bathroom is clean. I take down my pants and my underwear, and sit on the seat, willing my bladder to empty. Of course, even desperate, I’m all too aware of the open door.

  When the flow doesn’t start immediately, I hear Gun say, “Hurry the fuck up.”

  Of course, that does little to help me. But eventually, the damn breaks. I wipe, flush and wash my hands.

  As soon as I’ve finished he steps in and takes hold of my arm. It’s a firm grip, and one I can’t evade. He all but drags me down the corridor. For a moment we emerge into the fresh air. I glance around, but there are no clues as to where the hell I could be. It’s chilly in the morning air, a slight mist hovering over tree-covered mountains. Cooler than in Kentucky, but that could be altitude.

  I don’t have long to ponder before he takes me to a brick built shed. He puts a key in the lock and pushes me inside. The interior is dim, high cobweb covered windows stop much light coming in, but all thoughts of location flee from my head as through the gloom I see what’s waiting for me. It’s Finn, tied to a chair. One eye is closed, and his clothes are bloody.

  “Finn!” I exclaim, but the hold on my hand stops me from running to him.

  Two of the other men are already there. One offers a bone-chilling grin when I appear. I shudder.

  Finn’s eyes land on me, but then dispassionately look away. He stares up at Gun instead. “I wouldn’t bother with her. She’s got nothing to say.”

  He’s cold. There’s barely a flicker of recognition in his eyes. I thought he’d be spitting at Gun to let me go, but it’s as if he doesn’t care. It’s like a kick in the gut, and my initial reaction is to beg him to give me reassurances—one that he’ll get me out of there, and the other that when he’d shown love for me, it wasn’t a ploy and he meant it.