He couldn’t let Nikki escape. Seth cringed at the word. He didn’t want to keep her captive or hold her against her will. But he couldn’t just cut her loose. Not only because he was afraid what would happen if Jokers got to her again but because she had threatened to go to the cops, tell them what was going on at the compound. The guys didn’t need scrutiny or trouble. Most of them worked day jobs, just getting by. Some were on probation. One slip-up and they’d be back behind bars serving out their original sentences. They’d done nothing wrong. He had. This was his fault.
Maybe she would betray him and tell the cops that he had kidnapped her. Maybe she would tell them what was going on at the compound with the Jokers. He couldn’t have her do that. Once again, anger overrode concern, but then his emotions swung back again. He’d thought they were making some kind of connection, finally, that she trusted him. Shows how much he knew. He was letting his feelings toward her get in the way. There was much more to the story than she was telling him. The Joker could be lying. But if he was, why had Nikki run?
Seth revved the bike, speeding up again. He had to find Nikki before she did anything he couldn’t undo. Why couldn’t she realize she couldn’t do this alone? Why the hell did she think she had the wherewithal to take on the Jokers all by herself? Hadn’t he just told her that they would try to help her? Why couldn’t she be patient? Why couldn’t she trust him?
Trust. It was a tricky thing.
He took several curves in the road, refusing to slow down. He knew this road like the back of his hand, knew when the turns were coming, which were sharp, gentle, and arcing. She didn’t. It was dark out here, no streetlights, no buildings, no nothing except the endless high desert, the planes, and the rolling hills. A carpet of stars had appeared in the black sky above, but only dim light from a quarter moon shone down on the landscape that night. She wouldn’t be able to see farther than her headlights. Drivers around the clubhouse had to be careful, not only watch for the curves in the road, but animals. This was free range land. It wasn’t uncommon for cattle, deer, coyotes, or other animals to be standing in the middle of the road at night.
Worry and concern for her safety slowly trampled his anger. Within another mile, his heart thudded with more concern than rage. Maybe he should just let her go. What was he keeping her for, anyway? To save her? Save her from what? The Jokers? Or was it for himself? It was all the same to her, wasn’t it? And yet, he couldn’t deny his attraction to her, his desire . . . No, it was more than desire. It was a need. A need he couldn’t define. He needed her. He wanted her. It was more than just the sex. He’d never felt anything like this for anyone, and it confused the hell out of him. He didn’t know what to do with these feelings, but his gut instincts told him to go after her, to prevent her from—
There! Topping a rise, red taillights glinted in the distance, maybe a couple of miles away. They weren’t moving. Lights of several motorcycles moved then, approaching those stationary taillights. He twisted his hand, gave the bike more gas. He shot forward once more, taking the turns carelessly now, leaning with the bike, at one point placing the sole of his boot on the ground, keeping the bike from tipping, scuffing the sole, the ground speeding by dangerously close.
In less than a minute, he grew close enough to the red taillights blazing in the blackness to see what had happened. His heart leapt into his throat, and a cold chill raced down his spine as he pulled his bike up on the dirt shoulder beside the asphalt highway behind the others. They were sitting on their bikes, staring with dismay at the car, upside down, its wheels still spinning.
Seth kicked down the kickstand, turned off his bike, and swung his leg over the seat. “What the fuck are you guys doing!” he roared as he ran past them toward Padre’s car, on its roof, glass scattered and glinting dully in the dirt around it. The engine had died, but the radiator hissed hot steam while the headlights flickered, their cones picking up tendrils of dust still floating around the car.
“Nikki!” he shouted, voice cracking with panic. “Nikki!”
His voice propelled the others into action. Soon, three of his buddies appeared beside him, waiting for instructions. He didn’t look at them but got down on his hands and knees, peering into the dark interior of the vehicle. He couldn’t see her! Had she been thrown from the car?
“Nikki!” He spared a glance to the others, gesturing wildly. “Don’t just fucking stand there! Go look for her! She could’ve been thrown from the car when it flipped!”
He barely heard their footsteps scattering on gravel, his heart thundering hard in his ears, a sick feeling roiling in his stomach. Padre’s car was old, made before airbags were mandated, and broken glass everywhere told him that the car had flipped more than once. The crushed frame, the dents, and the battered, broken steering wheel prompted a surge of nearly overwhelming dread. He crawled halfway inside the driver-side window, his hands groping the seats, the scent of oil, grease, and fried electrical wiring wafting through his nostrils. He heard gasping breaths, and his hopes soared until he realized they belonged to him.
“Nikki,” he groaned, hands groping, fingers searching the seat, the dashboard, and then reaching over the bench seat toward the back. There! What was that? His fingers quickly explored, his mind racing. A shoe, and in the shoe he felt an ankle. “Nikki!” He turned and shouted out the door, scrambling back out of the driver’s side of the car and scrambling to the rear passenger side. “Guys! Over here! Help me!”
He yanked on the door but couldn’t open it. Jammed. Other hands reached in, grabbing the sides of the broken out window, tugging, pulling, and rocking the car in their effort to get the back door open. Finally, with a grunt of protest, it gave a little. Pulling with all their might, they finally yanked it open with a loud, metallic screech.
One of the guys bent down to grab Nikki’s shoulders. Her body lay crumpled on the back seat, arms tucked beneath her, hair splayed, blood smeared on what he could see of the side of her face.
“No!” Seth snapped. “Wait a minute!”
He pushed the man away, not even sparing a moment to look to see which one of his buddies it was, frantic to determine how seriously injured Nikki was. Maybe she was . . . No, he couldn’t even think it. He wished Doc was here to assess her injuries. She could have seriously broken bones, internal bleeding, or brain—
He placed his fingers on her throat, cursing when he couldn’t feel anything. He adjusted the placement his fingertips and then heaved an audible sigh of relief when he felt the throb of a pulse beneath them. Thank God for that! Carefully, he tried to assess injuries, but he was no doctor. Damn it!
“You better hurry up, Sticks,” one of the guys said. “There’s flames coming from underneath the hood.”
To verify his words, Seth caught the scent of smoke . . . black smoke oozing from beneath the floor, licking upward, seeking any space from beneath the car and into the cab. The stench of burning rubber, electrical wiring, and oil reached his nostrils. He glanced down at Nikki, assessing. Did he dare? What if he ended up hurting her worse than she already was? What if he ended up paralyzing her? What if—
“Hurry up, Sticks! The flames!”
He risked a glance toward the front of the car. The flames were growing larger by the second, feeding on the oil, and then he smelled gas. The fuel line must be leaking. Any second now, the car could explode and blow them all to bloody smithereens. No second-guessing. No hesitation. He quickly grabbed Nikki from under her shoulders, latching his forearms over her chest and interlacing his fingers. He tugged. Heart pounding, his breath catching in his throat, resisting the cough that erupted with the stench, he pulled her backward. One of the guys grabbed her legs as Seth pulled her out. Stumbling, all of them trying to balance Nikki as carefully as they could in their arms, they ran away from the car, toward the motorcycles, maybe thirty feet away. One of the guys stumbled over scrub brush, and they almost dropped her.
“For God’s sake, watch where you’re going! We can’t drop—”
His ears rang, his leg burned, and his back felt like it was on fire. He ignored every one of his own emotions, his own pain as he pushed himself onto his hands and knees, straddling Nikki, staring down into her still, surprisingly calm features. Dark eyelashes rested against her cheekbones, her mouth slightly open, her face smeared with blood.
“Nikki, you hang on,” he ordered her. “You’re going to be all right.”
20
Nikki
She felt strange, like she was floating on a cloud, but her limbs felt so heavy she couldn’t move. After that brief instant of awareness, of confusion and dismay, she felt pain. Her head throbbed, and as she assessed, she realized that every part of her body felt sore and bruised, like she’d been run over by a . . . She remembered the accident, running from the compound, the motorcycles behind her, losing control of the car, flipping, rolling, the sound of metal crunching, glass shattering, and then . . . Nothing.
Oh, God. Was she lying in a wreck of torn and twisted metal? Was she dying? Was she—
“Nikki.”
The familiar voice jolted her, prompting her eyes to open as every muscle in her body reacted to the sound of Seth’s voice. Relief flitted through her, immediately followed by fear. She blinked. Her vision gradually cleared. To her surprise, she found him sitting in a chair by the bed, legs spread, arms crossed over his chest.
“You’re going to be all right. Bumps and bruises and a few cuts, but Doc said no broken bones. You’re damned lucky, you know that?”
She frowned, regretting the motion instantly as pain shot through her skull. How could she not have any broken bones? She felt as if every bone in her body was broken. She tried to move and heard an odd, clanking sound. She glanced up, eyes widening with dismay as she noticed her right wrist was trapped in a handcuff. More confusion as her eyes followed the handcuff to the other ring, fastened around part of the metal bedframe. Eyes wide with fear, she glanced at Seth.
“For your own good,” he said quietly. “Doc knows a guy, got us some privacy.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he leaned forward, elbows now resting on his knees, his hands dangling as he stared at her, his gaze hard. Her heart skipped a beat. Even when he was angry he was so handsome, so much so that she wanted to—
“What the hell did you think you were doing?”
His tone angry but his voice soft, he stared at her. Logically, she knew why he was pissed off. She’d been an idiot, scared herself and likely him more. As much as she was still terrified for her sister, she couldn’t help that be grateful that once again Seth had come to her rescue. A shiver ran through her. When the car had flipped, when the world had turned upside down, Nikki had been sure that was the end—for her and Stacey, with no one left to care if she lived or died. Thanks to Seth, they both still had a chance.
She said nothing, waiting him out, knowing that he would have to get it out of the system before she could even begin to explain.
“What the fuck, Nikki? You could’ve been killed! Were you going back to Arizona? Or were you thinking to go to the warehouse? No, you passed it did, didn’t you?” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “Do you know where the Jokers are?”
The questions came so fast, one atop the other, that she barely opened her mouth to answer one question before another was broached. On top of the pain, she felt her own anger burgeoning. How dare he cuff her to the bed frame! What could she do now? And was it time to be afraid of the Steel Kings? Of Seth? What were they into? How and where did they get their money? What were they involved in? Gunrunning? Drugs, trafficking? How did they operate? How could they function if they weren’t into some stuff too, maybe not as bad as the Jokers, but—
“We know about your sister, Stacey. But what has all this got to do with you? What do either one of you have to do with the Jokers?”
Stacey’s name rolling off his lips sent a jolt through her, and at that moment, her defenses came down. Every single one of them. Despair, anguish, and fear bubbled upward. Warm tears filled her eyes and dripped down the side of her face toward her ears. Adrenaline was replaced with panic, but could she trust him? Did she dare?
“I’m telling you right now, Nikki, that if you don’t start talking, and I mean really talking, there’s nothing I’m going to be able to do to help you. I already told you that we would try, but you’ve got to be honest with me. Don’t you understand that? You’ve got to trust me!”
“Trust,” she managed to croak, amazed at how dry and scratchy her throat felt. She smelled gasoline, her own sweat, and oil. How had she gotten out of the car? Her head throbbed, her thoughts jumbled, jumping from one topic to the next. Stacey. The car. The Jokers. Seth. Round and round and round.
“You wrecked Padre’s car,” he said bluntly.
She stared at him, resisting the urge to frown. So that was her fault? Just because she tried to get away? She said nothing. She felt bad about wrecking Padre’s car. The man had been nothing but kind to her, but she wasn’t about to apologize. If Seth hadn’t refused to let her go, she wouldn’t have been forced to steal Padre’s car.
“It blew up, you know.”
What blew up? He saw the question in her eyes.
“Padre’s car. It exploded, all of about fifteen seconds after I and a few of the guys pulled you out of the wreck. You were that close to death, Nikki.” He held his thumb and index finger close together. “That close to being blown to bits, your body parts scattered around the Oklahoma plains, charred into barbecue.”
A noise erupted from her throat, a sound of protest and of dismay. How could he talk about her that way? How could he think so little . . . wait. He had dragged her out? He and several of the others? And then the ramifications struck her. If she could’ve died in fifteen seconds, so could they. Seth and the others had risked their lives to save her. Why? Why hadn’t they just let her . . .
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, the thought of something bad happening to Seth for her sake prompting a surge of nausea. “I just . . . ”
“You just wanted to find your sister.”
“Yes.” She felt tired, exhausted once again, fatigued beyond her limitations. Every waking moment, her concern for Stacey grew. Every minute that passed might be taking her sister closer and closer to death, or taking her farther and farther away from her. Every second could be bringing her pain . . . She closed her eyes against the very thought, knowing that if she kept thinking that way, she’d drive herself crazy. But what else could she do? The not knowing was killing her. The uncertainties, the worries, the anguish of what those fucking Jokers were doing with her sister tore her apart, moment by moment.
“Tell me,” he urged. “We’ll try to help you and Stacey, but we can’t help you if you keep us in the dark.”
She turned to him, wincing as she forced the words through her throat. “Why do you want to help me? Why do you care?”
He said nothing for several moments, and then, to her surprise, he smiled.
“To be honest, Nikki, from the moment I met you, even under compl
etely fucked up circumstances, I felt a connection with you.” He paused, glancing down at his hands, dangling over his knees. “I like you, Nikki, maybe even more than that. If you asked me to explain it, I wouldn’t be able to. It’s just something that I feel.”
Nikki’s heart pounded anew. She wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or frightened, but it was damned powerful. She couldn’t explain her intense attraction to Seth, either. It was just there and had been there the moment after he lay on the ground, clutching his balls after she kicked him.
“You feel it too, don’t you?”
She nodded. There was no denying it anymore. “Please take the handcuffs off,” she said softly. “I won’t try to get away again. I promise.” She saw the look he gave her, not sure whether he could trust her or not. “I’ll tell you everything, at least everything I know, okay?”
He reached into his pocket for the handcuff key, inserted it into the keyhole, and twisted. The handcuff around her wrist snapped open, and she pulled her arm away, placing it on the pillow near her head.
Then she started talking. Everything. About her twin sister, Stacey, about the auto shop, about Roger Mandy, her boss. That she too knew that there had to be something more than her sister finding a chop shop. And then she admitted something that she hadn’t even wanted to admit to herself. That maybe the Jokers had mistaken her for her twin sister. That maybe they had taken Stacey by mistake, because they were afraid that she’d been getting too close to something.
“You were working on an exposé? Like investigative journalism?”
She nodded. “Just in my spare time. I hadn’t even approached the editor with my idea. I wanted to have a rough draft finished before I did.”
“But how would the Jokers know?” he asked, frowning. “Did you tell anybody about it?”
Confession (Steel Kings MC Book 2) Page 15