Cane's Promise (Forever Midnight MC Book 1)

by Victoria Gale

  I needed to get her the hell out of Midnight Anchor, now.

  Leaving her room, I noted the window leading to the fire escape open. As soon as I reached it, I saw some motherfucker stretch out and take her hand. I bellowed her name and practically jumped down the entire fire escape to reach her.

  The slimy fucker had taken one look at me and legged it. I wanted to run after him and flay the skin from his fucking body before making him eat it, but Thea was behaving strangely. Crying and laughing at the same time and snapping her hands in the air. She fell to the ground, clutching her ears, and I knew I could never leave her again. Three minutes away from her and I’d almost lost her.

  I lifted her in my arms and carried her back to the bar.

  She reached up and tickled my beard, still crying. She had a smile on her face, though the laughter subsided. “So soft and fluffy,” she said, her words slurred. “Like Santa Claus. Are you going to give me a present?”

  On the last word, her smile disappeared, and a look of horror came over her features. “No, please. I don’t want a present. Don’t give me a present.” Her eyes darted from left to right as though she was seeing something only she could. “Don’t give me a bad present,” she echoed. “Promise me, you won’t give me a bad present?”

  I looked at her precious face and my heart melted. That fuck had messed with her big time and I was going to make him pay. “I promise,” I said.

  She rested her head on my chest and clamped her hand tight in my beard. “Thank you, Santa Cane,” she murmured, before laughing again.

  As soon as I kicked down the door to the bar, Cherrie spotted me and came running over. “What the hell’s happened now?” she yelled above the music and voices. Bono and Lucky were there a hair’s breadth later.

  “Get everyone out,” I said. “We’re closed.”

  Lucky didn’t hesitate, he went over to the jukebox, pulled the plug, and let out a loud whistle. While he threw everyone out, I ignored the screeching chairs, angry shouts, and bottles smashing — Lucky and Jameson could deal with that shit — and moved to the nearest couch with Cherrie and Bono hot on my heels.

  “Don’t leave me,” Thea said as I lay her down.

  “Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” I smiled and brushed the hair away from her face. I resisted the urge to brush away her tears, knowing they were never-ending. “Do you think you can let go of my beard?” I asked. “I think you might rip it from my face.”

  A pang of guilt hit me when her face flooded with panic. She frantically tried to withdraw her hand, but her fingers didn’t seem to work the way they should. She was stuck fast, her grip like iron.

  “Let me help,” Cherrie said and knelt beside us, working each finger free.

  “I’m sorry,” Thea said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Hey.” I clasped her other hand. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, okay?” She looked so scared and lost, I wanted to bundle her in my arms and never let go. Instead, I turned to Bono. “You do anything about what that sick fuck gave her?”

  Bono had been a medic in the marines in his past life, something that came in handy far too often. Cherrie finished untangling her hand and stood to give him room. He checked Thea’s pulse. “It’s fast,” he said. “Her breathing is too shallow. And from the way her eyes are darting about the place, I’d say she was hallucinating.” He leaned in close and in his most calming voice asked, “Hey, sweetie. Can you tell me what you’ve taken?”

  “No, don’t make me. I don’t want to do it?” Thea clenched my hand tightly, and I tried to squeeze back in a reassuring manner.

  Bono cursed and gave me a look that showed he was as pissed at this guy as I was. “No, sweetie,” he said. “We’ll never make you do it. We just need to know what it was so we can help you.” Choosing his words with more care, he asked, “Can you tell me what you were given?”

  She stared at him with a faraway look in her eyes. “You do not look like a veterinary surgeon,” she said and laughed. “Do I look like a horse? Am I a horse?”

  Her eyes darted around the bar, and her whole body went rigid. I tried to pull her hand to my chest to reassure her that everything would be okay. She just had to ride out the trip. But her arm was locked in place and I worried if I pulled it too hard, it would snap.

  Bono stood and paced behind me. “Fucking piece of shit,” he said, his voice full of rage and concern that mirrored my own. “He’s given her ketamine. From the way she’s acting, I reckon it must have been a large injected dose.”

  Thea let out a scream of anguish and then fell abruptly silent

  This wasn’t the first time I’d seen someone on a bad trip. Hell, most of us had experienced one a time or two, but watching Thea’s anguish and knowing there was not a goddamn thing I could do about it was making my blood boil. Even more so as I knew the fucker was still out there waiting to do worse. “How long before she comes down?” I asked.

  “Hour. Maybe longer.”

  “Anything we can do?”

  Bono shook his head. “Stay with her. Talk to her. Tell her where she is. Who she is.” Easier said than done when we didn’t have a clue. “She’ll definitely experience hallucinations, panic, confusion. The worse her state of mind going into the trip will mean the worse things will be, and I think it’s safe to say she wasn’t in a good fucking place.”

  No fucking kidding, Sherlock, I resisted saying and asked if there was anything else, instead.

  “Dissociation. She may feel detached from her body and the things that are happening. This means, she won’t feel pain, so we’ll have to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.”

  “What kind of sick bastard does this to a person?” Cherrie asked.

  I wished I had an answer. We weren’t saints by any stretch of the imagination, but it would never cross our minds to put someone through this hell. My mind whirled. No wonder Thea was terrified of the fucker. If he’d done this to her without a moment's hesitation, what else was he capable of?

  The next hour seemed to drag on longer than a full fucking day. Hell! From the range of emotions we all experienced along with Thea’s anguished cries and bouts of frantic laughter, it might as well have been a fucking year.

  Rex returned and started pacing.

  “I think we should chuck the stupid bitch out on the street for her pimp to claim,” Lucky said.

  Growling, I clenched my spare fist.

  Rex stopped in his tracks and took one look at me before turning to face Lucky. “And I think you should shut your stupid face before your luck runs out.”

  Lucky gulped in a breath. “Ah, shit. I didn’t mean nothing by it. I just feel like I’m being tortured listening to this shift.”

  “Just watch your mouth,” I said.

  “We’re all on edge.” Rex started pacing again. “I need to be out of here, doing something. Ripping the fucker’s limbs from his body.”

  Hell, I’d join him and hunt the fucker down, but my promise to Thea kept me firmly by her side.

  After a few more minutes of pacing, Rex said he was going to check every bloody business within a mile radius to see if they had CCTV footage of the guy. I gave him a description and he left, along with Lucky who was more than eager to go with him.

  “Rex,” I shouted across the club before he left. “You find the fucker, bring him back alive. You hear me?”

  Rex nodded that he understood. I was gonna kill this goddamn piece of shit myself.

  Thea never moved from the couch. For the last twenty minutes, she’d fallen silent, and in many ways that was worse than the laughing and crying. At least when she was doing those, we knew she was still alive. Only when she squeezed my hand did I let out a sigh of relief.

  “My Santa Cane,” she said and gave a short laugh, more wistful than manic. She sobered quickly and reached out to touch my face. The first movement she’d made since going stiff. “You stayed,” she said.

  “I promised I would.”

  A sad smile slid into pl
ace. “I’m sorry.”

  “You never have to say those words to me again,” I said. “You’ve got absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

  “I should never have tried to run away from you. I just had to get away from the bar as fast as possible.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “Now that, you shouldn’t have done, but I understand why you did. Just promise me you won’t do it again.”

  “I promise,” she said before wincing. “Everything hurts.”

  “Where?”

  Her smile brightened and damn near lit up the whole fucking room. “Everywhere,” she said, and I wondered what the hell she had to smile about, even when I couldn’t help but smile in return.

  Chapter Six

  Thea

  I felt like I’d been dragged into hell, but always in the back of my mind, I knew that Cane was near me. I couldn’t see his face, hear his voice, or feel his touch, but on some distant plane, he held my hand. Without that one thing to clutch on to, I don’t think my mind would have ever made it back to my body.

  Not that it felt great when it did. Spearing pain lanced through me as though my head had been pounded flat with a sledgehammer, and my body squished in a vice. I could almost wish to be free of it again, but that would mean losing sight of the man beside me. The one who’d never let go of my hand. I couldn’t rationalize why I’d become so attached to a man I didn’t know the first thing about. I just had.

  An image of him dressed in nothing but a Santa hat and bottoms flashed in my mind, bringing a smile to my face. I couldn’t remember much after running into Daniel, but I remembered Cane saving me and my calling him Santa Cane. He must think me an idiot. Which I was for believing I’d ever be free of Daniel.

  One of Cane’s brothers, the one with the close-cropped hair and a marine tattoo with the words ‘Semper Fidelis’ tattooed on his forearm, introduce himself as Bono and gave me a couple of Advil to deal with my aches and pains. I drifted off to sleep as he and Cane discussed moving me away from the bar. Cherrie wasn’t happy about me going anywhere without her, but conceded it would be best for me to stay with Cane, at least for a while.

  “You got it bad for this girl?” Bono said to Cane, and I wondered what he meant. Though the idea Cane might like me filled my last thoughts with happiness and warmed my body before sleep claimed me.

  ~

  When I awoke, I was in a pick-up truck with Cane driving.

  He glanced my way as I shifted in the seat and gave me a warm smile. “How you feeling?” he asked.

  “Better.” Which was true. My body no longer felt as though it had been squished in a vice, but more achy like after a particularly tough yoga workout full of new poses.

  The roar of engines drew my gaze out the rear window. Four bikes trailed behind us. The night fast turned to day and a wash of light from the east made me focus my attention on our surroundings. The new day sun reflected off the buildings, washing away the grayscale and flooding them with color. Soon, we moved away from the built-up area of the town and towards the mountains and surrounding forest.

  “We’re going to my place?” Cane gestured with his head to the bikes following. “They’ll make sure nobody follows.”

  “Why?” We pulled off the main road into a tree-lined country lane. Two of the bikes gave us a honk of their horns and circled back on the road. Cane honked back. “I mean, why are you helping me? I’ve been nothing but a crazy mess since you met me.”

  He gave me a wry smile. “Maybe, that’s why.”

  I looked to the floor and swallowed the lump forming in my throat. God, I must seem so weak and pathetic. All I wanted was to strip off his clothes, see how far those tattoos covered his body, and trace every line of them with my fingers. My tongue. He looked rough, ready, and dirty, and I wanted to do dirty things with him, but he only saw me as a charity case who needed saving, or worse, babying.

  Involuntarily, my hand went to my throat to clutch the heart that until last night had always given me comfort. My chest tightened as a twang of disappointment at discovering it gone was quickly replaced by relief.

  Who the hell was I kidding? I was pathetic and I did need saving.

  I glanced back at the remaining two bikes.

  “Rex and Jameson live in town,” he explained noticing my look. “They’ll be able to see if anyone was following on the trip back.”

  I nodded. Rex had been the one to identify the tracker, but I didn’t have a clue which of the guys was Jameson.

  “Lucky lives near the bar,” Cane continued. “Says he misses the hustle and bustle out here in the sticks, but really he likes to stay with his Ma when he’s in town, and make sure she’s doing okay. He held back to watch the road out of town. Bono lives further on in the forest, not too far from me.”

  The lights from a cabin flashed by in the forest. I glanced back and noted the two bikes still following and counted the names off in my head. If Lucky had stayed behind, who was riding the fourth bike? Then it dawned on me. We were in Greg’s pick-up, though the bike following wasn’t the one I normally saw him ride.

  “Is Greg on your bike?” I asked as Cane pulled up alongside a small cabin. One of the remaining bikes gave a toot and moved on, the other came to a stop behind us.

  “He is.” He turned off the engine and shifted to face me. “Can you walk?” he asked.

  I nodded and moved to open the door, praying I was right. A sigh of relief escaped my lips when I placed my first foot on the floor and found not only the ground solid but my leg able to take my weight.

  The sun bathed the clearing in a warm glow as the fresh scent of pine needles enveloped my senses. The forest seemed alive with birds singing to welcome the new day. Dense foliage surrounded us, making me wonder how far I’d be able to see at night. The leaves rustled in a faint breeze and I tried not to shiver, uncertain about what or rather who might be watching in the dark depths.

  Greg walked up and gave Cane a nod. “You doing alright, honey?” he asked, turning his attention to me.

  “Thea,” I said. “I’m sorry I lied.”

  Greg winked. “Hell, you did what you had to do. I just wish we’d known your problems sooner, so we could have helped you better.”

  “You’ve helped me far too much already.”

  “We ain’t helped you enough.” He nodded to Cane and patted him on the shoulder. “Though I reckon the brothers are gonna rectify that. Anyway,” he handed Cane his bike keys and took his pick-up keys in return, “I’d better get back and help Cherrie clean up and get some rest before the bar opens tonight. You need the slightest thing, you just call and ask, you hear?”

  “Yes, sir, and thank you.”

  He winked again and jumped in the truck before pulling away, leaving me standing in the clearing with Cane.

  “Are they all your brothers?” I asked just to say something when a fluttery feeling settled in my stomach.

  “They are.”

  I cleared my throat. “They don’t look much like you. Are they brothers by birth or by marriage?”

  Cane bellowed a hearty laugh and flashed me a smile that somehow softened his whole gruff exterior. “Neither, they’re brothers in heart and soul,” he said. “We’re all members of the Forever Midnight Motorcycle Club, but the club is more than just that. We love each other, support each other. Hell, every one of the brothers would lay down their lives for each other. We’re true family.”

  My heart sank to my stomach at his words. My family had never been about love, compassion or support. Not since Dad had died. Although, Mom was right in one aspect. I was only eight when that happened. Maybe I viewed my time with him through rose-tinted spectacles. More so after the family that came next.

  Sensing my discomfort, Cane glanced from me to the cabin and suggested we go in. “I’m fucking starving,” he said. “I ain’t got much in. We’ve been on the road the past two months, and the place could probably use airing. But there’ll be a can of soup or some shit to eat in one of the cupboard
s.”

  I smiled and bit my lip. Only Mom ever swore around me, and that was infrequent. Tony hated a potty mouth. But every other word that came out of Cane’s mouth, was f-ing this or f-ing that. It seemed crass yet adorable at the same time. Every time he said fuck, I wanted to do just that.

  My face felt flushed when I stepped up onto the decking and he opened the door, ushering me inside. I glanced around. Two chairs sat either side of a fireplace. There was a table and chairs next to an open plan kitchen, and a spiral staircase leading up to a mezzanine, where I could just see the makings of a bed.

  “The bathroom’s through that door to the back,” he said, pointing past the kitchen and to the far wall. “There’s only the one bed. I’ll get some bedding for you and—”

  “What about you?” I asked. “Where will you sleep?” He gestured to the chairs by the fireplace.

  I huffed out a breath, shocked at the disappointment that washed over me. From habit, I took off my boots and socks — I wasn’t allowed to wear them at home — left them by the door and moved to the kitchen area afraid to say out loud the thought that popped into my head. He joined me and opened a cupboard, pulling out a couple of cans.

  “Looks like there’s beans, corn, and tuna,” he said. “Beans okay?”

  “What? No shit?” I asked and raised an eyebrow.

  He quirked his lips and sized me up and down making me feel warm and tingly. “Don’t be judging the quality of the beans or my cooking skills too soon,” he said.

  I laughed. “I’m not sure heating beans counts as cooking.”

  He crossed his arms, gave me a stern look, and pressed his lips together. I could imagine how intimidating it would be if he’d turned the same look on someone else, but it just made me laugh even harder. “I have to open the can and heat the contents,” he said in earnest.

  “Oh, that’s right. I stand corrected. Just be careful not to burn them. I’m starving and could eat a horse.”

  He stiffened and placed the cans too carefully on the countertop. The muscles in his neck corded the way they had the night before. When he looked as though he might punch the cupboard door the way I’d seen some men on the TV do, I wondered if I’d overstepped my mark and said the wrong thing. But something told me his anger wasn’t directed my way. After a moment, he got control of whatever emotions warred inside him and opened a drawer before pulling out a can opener.