by Bourne, Lena
I yell, an animal scream that comes straight out of my chest, and with a strength I never imagined I possessed, the zip-tie binding my wrists snaps free. The sharp pain of the plastic digging into my flesh wakes me up, clears my mind, makes me see everything in sharp detail.
“He’s loose!” Piston shouts like a scared little bitch and takes the shot I knew he would. It misses me by a mile. In the next moment I’m wrestling him for the gun. But my hands and the metal are both slick with my blood, so it’s not as easy as it should be.
The roaring of bikes breaks the night, fills it with rumbling that grows louder and louder, as the guys who were following us arrive.
The next moment, I feel the cold steel of a gun barrel on the back of my neck. It seems to be wider than a cannon opening, though I know it’s just Horse’s Glock.
“Stop fighting. Let go of the gun,” Horse tells me. It’s the smartest thing to do, if my brains splattering all across Piston’s face isn’t the last thing I want to see. Would I even see it? I don’t want to find out.
Somehow, I find the calmness to let go of the gun, lift up my arms, and back away from Piston. Stormi’s face is a mask of horror, her eyes so wide they’re mostly white, her mouth open in a silent, yet loud scream. She’s still dressed. Not raped yet. If I die now, she will be, by all of them here. I can’t stop that if I’m dead.
“Get the shovel,” Horse barks at his brother. “He can start digging. That should keep him busy.”
Piston obeys, shakily pointing the gun at me, even though his brother still has the barrel of his pressed against the back of my neck. I smell the sharp ammonia of piss. Did Piston piss himself?
He goes to the passenger door, pulls out a shovel and comes back. The other bikers stopped in a weird half circle formation just beyond the reach of the rear lights of the van. Their headlights are on full and pointed directly and blindingly at us. Fucking idiots. They can’t even park their bikes right.
“Start digging,” Horse tells me as Piston returns with the shovel and hands it to me. “And this is your very last chance. One more step out of line and you’re dead.”
He turns to the bikers blinding us with their headlights. “Get over here, Diesel. Make sure he just digs and nothing else. Then you can have a turn at Stormi too.”
I reach for the shovel, not sure if this is really happening, or I’ve somehow entered my wildest dreams. I already knew Horse and Piston were a couple of fuckups, I’ve been reminded daily of that since the night I met them, but even after all that proof, I still can’t believe he’s just gonna hand me a weapon like this. I only freeze with that thought for a second though, because I didn’t stay alive this long by not thinking on my feet.
The guys they brought with them are still in the darkness, and we’re like deer in all these headlights pointed at us. They’re hulking black shadows against the deeper night as they dismount at Horses’ command. This is the best chance I’m getting.
The moment Piston surrenders his grip on the shovel and hands it to me completely, I swing it upwards and bring the edge of it hard against his jaw. Like an uppercut. And as though I did in fact deliver one of those, his head snaps back, he comes off his toes and then crashes onto his back on the ground. He never fired his gun. Lucky, that.
The momentum of my action got me away from the barrel of Horse’s gun too, and I swing all the way around to face him, shovel held in both hands and aimed at his head. He tries to fix the aim of his gun to my chest, but he’s too slow. The blow from the shovel, as I bring it sideways against his head takes out his arm too. The shot he managed to get off is pure heat as it zooms past me into the darkness.
“Run!” I yell at Stormi. “Get behind the van and run into the dark.”
“Not without you,” she yells back, and that’s the bravest, sweetest and stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.
Horse is out cold, but Piston is groping around in search of his gun, yelling for his guys to back him up, which for some odd reason they’re not doing as fast as they should. I expected them to be all over me by now. How much time has passed? It feels like hours. But I know how time slows down in a fight.
I bring the shovel down on Piston’s hand just as his fingers find the gun, the crunch of bones sickeningly audible for a split second before his scream rents the air.
“Nice show, Ace,” Colt says from the darkness. “Good to know you still got it.”
The two others with him laugh, and I let out a relaxed sigh, because knowing that my brothers are here, that they had my back all along, completes the feeling Stormi’s kiss started in the van. I’m home. We’re home.
The guys are coming toward us now, their faces covered with their bandanas, but I recognize them all anyway. Colt is leading, Blaze is behind him, and the last to come out of the darkness is Ice.
Stormi suddenly gasps behind me. “It’s them, Ace, it’s the Devils. They’re gonna kill you now.”
I turn to her. The bright headlights of my brothers’ bikes are reflecting in her eyes like perfect halos, but her face is a frozen picture of horror like she’s looking straight into the mouth of hell. Tears are brimming in her eyes, catching the light and creating a rainbow.
“It’s alright, Stormi, we’re safe now,” I tell her with a smile, toss the shovel on the ground and open my arms for her. “These are my brothers.”
“Damn right,” Colt says as he smacks me on the back.
She glances at him, and then looks back at me, terror melting off her features, getting replaced with confusion, then annoyance, a hint of anger. Sparkly.
“So…so…” she stammers then swallows hard.
“Why didn’t you just tell me that? Why’d you let me say all those things? Why’d you let me break up with you, when you could’ve just told me the truth?” she asks accusingly, striding towards me, the dry air around us crackling with the electricity of her rising anger.
“I was gonna,” I tell her as I shrug, close the rest of the distance and pull her into my arms.
“Men,” she snaps, but she’s grinning.
“Maybe you could continue this conversation on the way back,” Ice suggests, interrupting us in the moment when I was gonna kiss her like she’s never been kissed before.
“You can drive the van back,” he tells me as I look at him. “It’s a good thing they brought it. Cross wants them alive for now.”
“Where’s the other three Sinners?” I ask, as I place my arm around Stormi’s shoulders and lead her to the side of the van to give my brothers room to load Piston and Horse into the back.
“Dead in the darkness by the side of the road a couple miles back,” Blaze informs me. “Poor fuckers never knew what hit them. And no one will know what happened to them either. Their bodies are being disposed of as we speak.”
I nod and hold Stormi tighter. She’s shivering like an autumn leaf that’s trying to hold onto the branch just a little longer. This is probably too much too fast for her to know about me.
“Where are we going?” I ask Ice as I lead Stormi toward the passenger door of the van.
“You’ll just follow us, it’ll be faster that way,” Ice replies.
“What’s gonna happen now?” Stormi asks me in a whispery, shaky voice.
“It’s all gonna be alright,” I tell her. “Come on, I’ll explain on the way.”
I open the van door and help her inside like a perfect gentlemen.
“You better,” she says in a stronger voice, giving me hope that finding out I’m a cold-blooded killer won’t prove a problem for us. “And with no lies this time.”
“None at all,” I tell her right before I slam the door shut.
And that’s a promise I’m gonna keep ‘til the day I die.
* * *
Stormi
“Is this really happening?” I ask after we’re on the road.
He smiles and motions for me to come closer. I slide over and he puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer and hugging me tight. Blood is still
seeping from his wrists, tickling as it trickles down my bare arms. But it also tells me that yes, this is not a dream. The last of my shakiness subsides as his warmth seeps into me.
“You’re safe now,” he tells me. “Like I promised you would be.”
“You gotta get those wrists bandaged up,” I mutter.
He chuckles and squeezes me tighter. “I’ll get it seen to when we stop.”
“You might’ve told me you were in no danger from the Devils and why,” I say pulling away from him to look into his face. We’re riding down a dark stretch of road and the moon is casting just enough light to see his face clearly, although it’s washed in a silvery blue.
He glances at me then back at the road. The bikes leading us to where ever we’re going now are red dots in the darkness in front of us.
“I couldn’t,” he says. “I wanted to, but it could’ve put all my brothers in danger, so I couldn’t.”
I understand why he couldn’t. Why it would’ve been stupid if he had. I don’t like it though. It rings foul against the love and devotion to him that’s still growing inside me. But of course, he couldn’t. We didn’t know each other well enough. For all he knew, I might’ve gone to Horse and told him everything. I wouldn’t, but he didn’t know that.
“I damn near had a heart attack when I saw Ice come out of the darkness,” I say. “I thought we’d gone from bad to worse.”
He squeezes my arm. “I’m sorry he scared you. You weren’t supposed to be in any kind of danger.”
“I put myself in this danger six months ago. I take full blame for it,” I say. “You had nothing to do with it.”
He shrugs. “I still failed to protect you.”
“No, you didn’t. I’m here, safe and well,” I say and giggle. He hugs me tighter and kisses the top of my head.
“What’s gonna happen to Horse and Piston?” I ask, surprised at the shakiness in my voice. I’m not sure why I’m asking. I think I already know.
The flip side of this wonderful coin that’s my freedom and the love of this man, is that he’s a member of Devil’s Nightmare MC. A killer from that band of killers that frightened me enough to let him go. Forced me to let go of the only man I ever truly loved. A killer.
I stole a lot, and lied a lot in my life, but I’ve never been comfortable with violence. I’m finding that’s true, even when it’s violence against people who’ve made my life hell.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “They’ll get what they deserve, nothing more and no less. They’ve been snitching, and now they’re gonna answer for it. That’s why I was there, to get close to them and find out if they’ve been talking to the cops.”
I nod to his words, finding I can be happy with that answer for now. For always too? I hope so.
But right now, I don’t want to worry, especially not about things out of my control. I just want to be near him and safe.
“I was trying to leave town tonight and go back home,” I tell him. “They caught me at it, and that’s the reason why they wanted to kill me too.”
He stiffens and clears his throat. His arm jerks like he’s gonna let me go, but he doesn’t.
“You were just gonna leave me behind? Just like that?” his voice is almost toneless, but it’s so sharp and heavy that there’s no doubt in my mind this bothers him a lot.
“I didn’t want to, I really didn’t want to, but I thought I had to. I thought you were a dead man walking. I thought you were gonna lead killers worse than the Sinners to my door if I let you come with me. I thought it was just a matter of time before I had to watch you die. Mourn you. I couldn’t face that.” All that’s the truth.
Should I even be apologizing for trying to save my heart from breaking? To the guy who showed me I had a heart that could love? Yes, I definitely should explain it to him.
“I get it,” he says stiffly.
“Do you?” I ask earnestly.
“I’ve spent most of my life running away from love to save myself the hurt of losing the ones I love,” he says. “I do get where you’re coming from.”
He left something unsaid, something hard and dark maybe, so I don’t want to know it. I just want to be with him now. I press closer to him wrapping my arm across his stomach. “I’m glad they caught me and brought me back. For the split second when I first saw you in that cell, I was glad. Not so much right after.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, right.”
“What I’m trying to say is that I’m very happy with you.” I’m looking at his eyes, but he’s not meeting mine.
“Me too,” he says.
There’s more to say, more to clear up, but I don’t know how. I lean against his chest again and we share just silence for awhile. It’s not really silent. There’s the sound of the engine, of the bikes in front of us, of tires gliding over pavement, and my thundering need to make him understand I never wanted to leave him.
“I was going home to be with my sister,” I say. “She has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning. A very important appointment. We’ve been saving up so she could see this specialist for a long time. Tomorrow, he’s gonna tell her whether he can save her life or not.”
He stiffens, but not like before.
“Your sister’s dying?” he asks.
“Yeah, she’s been dying since the day we were born, more or less,” I say. “She was born with a heart defect, but now there’s a new procedure, one that could help her without having to give her a whole new heart. She’s too weak to survive a transplant. She always was. But this new procedure isn’t so invasive. The money I stole from the Sinners was meant to pay for it.”
He breathes out, in awe or exasperation, I’m not sure. “Sounds like you sacrificed a lot for your sister.”
“She’s worth it,” I reply.
I could tell him more, I suddenly want to tell him everything, but the bikers in front have slowed down and turned off the road. Ace follows and before long we’re parked in front of a large, low rectangular concrete building.
“What happens now?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I’ll go talk to the guys. You wait in here for now.”
I nod and he climbs out, but looks at me before closing the door. It’s a lasting look, and there’s such soft vastness in his eyes, I could wander in them forever and never get lost, never feel lonely.
“I’ll get you to Vegas in time for your sister’s appointment,” he tells me. “I promise.”
He slams the door before I can say anything, and before he can see the single tear run down my cheek. It’s a tear of happiness, not sadness. Before I met him, I didn’t even know men like him existed. And I certainly never believed one of them would fall in love with me.
* * *
Ace came back about a half an hour later, his wrists bandaged up with gauze so white it gleamed in the moonlight. The other guys from his MC took Horse and Piston from the back, but none of them spoke to me. He had changed out of his bloody clothes and even thought to bring me a shirt to wear—red and black flannel that’s at least five sizes too large, but smells of him and is wonderfully soft. Then he transferred me from the Sinners’ white van to a another, almost identical one.
I tried to stay awake after we rode off towards Vegas, but between the rhythmic humming of the road beneath the wheels and leaning on his solid, warm body, his arm around me and his shirt warming me better than any blanket ever had, I dozed off before we even reached the highway.
“Stormi, wake up,” his words penetrate the dream I was having. The warm, pleasant pastel colored dream of being happy in a world where bad things never happened.
I open my eyes to a white dawn tinged with pink. The desert dawn. The killing dawn. The dawn I finally survived.
“Where to?” he asks, the smile that alighted on my face transferring to his face and creeping into his voice too.
We’re still on the highway, nearly alone at this early hour, just the pure white dawn of a new beginning before us.
But the green board by
the side of the road says Vegas is just 15 miles away. I tell him what exit to take then burrow back into his side watching the sky gain more and more color as the sun starts to rids.
The only words we exchange are the ones where I’m giving him directions to my house. Right now, it’s the only words we need. The rest is spoken clearly by the tightly woven closeness between us.
In no time at all, we’re parked at the curb next to my childhood home. The path leading from the sidewalk to the front door is lined with pink and white roses, which weren’t here before I left. They match the blooming magnolia tree near the living room window, and I’m guessing the roses are my mother’s idea. Pink and white weren’t always her colors, but they seem to be now that she’s turned her life around and repented for the past, as she claims. The kitchen lights are on. Misti is clearly already up and getting ready for her appointment. Maybe I should call first. I don’t want to give her a heart-pumping surprise by just showing up on the doorstep. It could mess up her heart rhythm and that’s the last thing she needs on the day when the hope of fixing her heart is finally a reality. But I don’t have my phone with me.
I clear my throat and square my shoulders. “Let’s go in.”
I try to slide from under his arm and to the passenger side door, but he tightens his grip on me.
“I have to go back right away,” he says.
For a few seconds I just sit there, staring at his face, nothing making sense inside my mind. What is this? Is he leaving me? Is this it? He drove me home and now we never see each other again? What’s happening here?
He smiles and hugs me with both his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. I lean my head back to be kissed for real, and he needs no more urging than that to lock his lips onto mine.
The happy, safe dream he woke me from is back, filling my mind to the brim, pushing all worry and pain out, as it turns my brain into a soft meadow of pleasure, where no dark thought can survive for long. As our lips lock tighter and the kiss deepens, bliss and happiness uncoil inside me like a spring that’s been pressed tightly together for too long. I forgot such happiness was possible. But it is. It’s heating me up, crackling with an intensity that’s hard to contain. I want him. All of him. All the time. Right here.