Breath held, I waited for her to speak. And when she finally did, it nearly broke me.
“Your father is going to be so thrilled to hear this.”
That’s when I realized I’d lost her forever.
The doctor came and left my room in a matter of minutes, ordering me to rest for the next few days. I dressed in a pair of old navy sweats and a T-shirt with green stripes running up and down the center, and we left the hospital—me, Mom, and Angel.
Mom hovered and fussed at my side the entire time, and I let her, turning off my mind.
All this time, I’d built up an image inside my head, a plan that was supposed to include me and Mom running away from Pops instead of running toward him. Everything seemed to be falling apart, and the only place I wanted to be again was in Archer’s arms. I’d take to being one of his monthlies at this point instead of living under Pops’s lock and key.
We climbed into the backseat of a worn-down Chevy that smelled like stale beer and mint gum outside the ER doors. Mom moved in beside me while Angel, who barely looked old enough to drive, stayed quiet in the driver’s seat. Our eyes met in the rearview mirror, and instead of a normal, broody biker, I saw an insecure, mysterious boy—barely a man.
I peered over at Mom, taking in her thin cheekbones, the new wrinkles by her eyes too. She wasn’t the same, no. But neither was I.
Fifteen minutes later, after taking several long, winding streets through the town I’d yet to figure out the name of, we took a left toward the mountains and were soon driving up a gravel road. My ears popped continuously the further up we went. I looked out my window, trying to get a sense of direction, but I was still so out of it that nothing seemed clear to me. Still, wherever we were, it had to be where Archer was, right? That thought had me sitting up straighter.
Ten minutes we drove through gravel, the car dipping in crevices, rocks banging against the side and windows. We stayed beneath a canopy of oaks, so much so I couldn’t see the sky above. I was so over being in the middle of nowhere—I felt like the next time I saw a highway, I’d fall to my knees and kiss it.
At the thought, another image of Archer ran through my mind. His smart mouth, his hair falling over one eye, his sweet green eyes lighting up whenever he teased me. Without a doubt, I knew what he’d say. I can think of a lot better things for you to kiss while you’re down there, JP.
JP. What did that nickname even mean? Chills broke out over my skin. What if I never found out? What if I never heard him call me it again?
“We’re here.” Mom squeezed my hand, and something in her eyes softened. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe that she was feeling sorry for me though. The woman truly thought that my being here meant we’d be a family. And for that, I felt sorry for her.
The doors were unlocked, then opened. When Angel stood over mine, I barely spared him a glance, instead choosing to look up at the abandoned building. Was this where they’d been all this time? Mom had said just two weeks, but this looked more permanent than not.
“Come on.” Mom took my hand in hers, squeezing it again. “He’ll be waiting for us.”
I quickly took a breath and followed her out, my entire body trembling. Angel followed us up the long cement walkway, and I realized right then that I’d never heard him speak.
“Does he talk?” I asked, jerking my head back at him.
Mom winced, then whispered, “Only to his mom and occasionally me, but otherwise, no. Charles… doesn’t let him speak.”
I frowned, glancing at the boy once more. He looked so empty and sad.
“The last letter you sent,” I said, pulling my mom to a stop. “Did he deliver it?”
She smiled, nodding once. “He did. He’s a messenger for the club. Does a lot of runs for them.” Mom was fond of this kid, I could tell. But why? “Anyways, he was doing some recon for us in Rockford and I asked him to leave it for you instead of sending it.”
“He snuck onto the compound, Mother.”
“Yes. I’m aware.” She smiled tightly but didn’t comment further.
A door opened ahead of us, pulling my gaze up to the front of the building. I stopped in my tracks when three older men came out, forming a V around a man who I knew, right away.
“Daughter.” He nodded, still staying behind his group. Then he looked at my mom, who was clinging to my left arm as if I was there to protect her. It was obvious my mom was also terrified of the man she was so desperately in love with.
Good thing for her, I wasn’t.
I lifted my chin. “Asshole.”
He tossed his head back and laughed.
Angel, I noticed, had moved further away.
Pops moved out from behind his men and stood a few feet in front of us. His eyes, though, were only on me. “You’re quite the little bitch, ain’t ya? Might have to break you like I did your mom here.”
I flinched, looking behind him to try and keep it together.
His little group of three men had turned into ten. They ranged in age. I’d heard, at one time through the grapevine back in Rockford, that the majority of Pops’s rogues had been young, but these men were mostly older. It could have been just a show for me, a power thing. His young crew could be inside, shaking in their tiny boots. But their ages didn’t matter. They were all enemies to me.
“Got a friend of yours here. You’re gonna be happy to see him.” Pops winked.
My heart skipped. Archer… he was here.
“But we’ll save the reunion for later.” Then he grabbed the back of my hair, yanking me in behind him.
Mom gasped and yelled, “Stop! You promised you wouldn’t hurt her.”
I fell to my knees, gasping when the cement scraped my palms.
“Shut your mouth, woman, before I shut it for you,” Pops roared at my mom.
I winced when he tugged me from behind, and my eyes began to burn the second he tried to drag me on my butt. Somehow, I got to my feet and followed him, stumbling in both pain and rage, his men laughing around me, a few of them catcalling too. My throat clogged up with a sob, but I refused to let it out; he seemed to get off on others’ pain. Pops hadn’t changed one bit since I’d last seen him, though there was an urgency to his steps and movements now that I didn’t remember from before.
We walked at a pace that was a step before running, and I barely had a chance to look around once we were inside. It reminded me of an office building, with little rooms and cubbies on my left and right as we passed by. We wound up at the end of a hall, where he finally let go of my hair.
“Open it,” Pops yelled at Angel, who I’d somehow missed.
When I turned around to look for my mom, I realized she hadn’t come in after us.
“Wait…” I grabbed Pops’s arm, using my other hand to rub the now balding spot where he’d ripped my hair from my scalp. “Where’d my mom go?”
“Don’t ask questions. Just shut your mouth and do what you’re told.”
He shoved me into the room with a desk and two chairs, wooden with broken legs. Then he pushed me into one and took a seat behind the desk across from me, ordering Angel to shut and lock the door behind him once he left.
Shaking, I turned, catching the boy’s eyes. I swear, he almost looked regretful, but it wasn’t long before his face grew blank again, and he did what was asked of him.
The door slammed shut seconds later, and I heard the telltale sound of a lock being clicked from the other side. I stiffened, only looking at Pops when I heard the flick of a lighter.
“Listen, bitch. We’re gonna make this quick. If you don’t answer what I’m about to ask, then bad shit’s gonna happen. If you do, then I’ll let you see your friend.”
“I won’t tell you anything,” I hissed.
He laughed then knocked on the wall behind him. “Guess we’ll be doing this the hard way then.”
A curtain rose up, revealing a window and another room next door. Wooden walls surrounded a wooden floor, a table, chairs—and there in the middle of it all w
as… “Archer!”
I jumped up from the chair and headed straight to the window, pounding on it. He looked like he was asleep, but the longer I pounded on the window, the more I realized he was unconscious.
“What have you done?” I screamed, facing Pops.
“I’ve got a doc nearby who’d love to help him. I mean, he’s got some internal bleeding, and a huge list of other shit wrong with him that might cause irreversible damage if he doesn’t get help soon.”
My eyes burned. I knew what he was trying to do. I knew it. But if I told him anything about the club, then more people would be in danger. Still, I could never let Archer die.
“What do you want to know?”
“For starters, why don’t you tell me what the hell Flick’s been up to in Texas?” His brows lifted and he leaned back in his seat, kicking his boots up on the desk.
I could just barely see the rise and fall of Archer’s chest. Tell him, Emily. Tell him now.
“He’s…” I swallowed.
For Archer. Do it for Archer.
Taking a deep breath, I turned to Pops and said, “Flick is building an army.”
Twenty-Three
Archer
I woke up to the voice I’d gone to sleep hearing. Her voice. Ma’s voice. Only instead of being rough and tough like she once was, she was holding my hand, hovering over me as I lay sprawled out on the floor. Next to her stood Lisa Lincoln.
“Emily…” I managed to get out, but it hurt too much to speak. Hell, everything hurt, my chest most of all. It felt like I’d had a ton of bricks dropped on me, all in the form of boots and fists and who knew what the fuck else.
“Nicholas,” Ma crooned. “Can you hear me a leanbh?”
My eyes shut again.
Damn, what I wouldn’t have given for some whiskey right then.
Twenty-Four
Emily
I sat in the same office that Pops had just left from. I’d been alone in there for an hour and a half, locked away and waiting for whatever came next.
They’d taken Archer away the second I’d spilled the truth, his body lifeless and hanging in the men’s hold. I’d sobbed at the sight of it, stood, and pounded on the window too. After demanding to know what they were doing with him, Pops had laughed and called me an impatient bitch.
The second that man left the room, I’d let the numbness inside of me take over, followed close with an undeniable hatred for myself I’m pretty sure would never go away.
I’d been weak and spilled secrets that were not mine to share. I just prayed Pops kept his end of the deal and got Archer the medical help he’d promised.
My only comfort had been Angel. He’d crouched down in front of me, soft-green eyes searching my face before he spoke. When he finally did, his voice sounded so odd and I couldn’t help but cringe. I wondered if someone, Pops perhaps, had done something to him. Forced chemicals down his throat or something worse than that.
He’ll be okay, he’d told me, so brave and kind, ignoring my reaction to him as he spoke.
Despite his demeanor though, I knew better. I couldn’t see a way out of this. Not after everything Pops had done. Even if the Red Dragons did arrive, Archer might not be here for them to save.
I covered my mouth at the thought, a sob of fear and pain lodged in my throat. He had to be okay. I couldn’t live with myself if he wasn’t.
Back and forth I rocked to try and keep my body from freezing in place, from locking down in case I needed to fight. Where was my mom? Why hadn’t she come to me again?
It was cold, like an icebox. Still dressed in those sweats and the striped shirt from the hospital, I felt like my body wasn’t my own. The room eventually lost its light as the sun began to set. There were no lamps or ceiling lights, nothing but the light from under the door and the shadow of someone pacing outside.
“Go away!” I screamed at whoever was there. I guessed it was Angel. I hadn’t heard him walk away, hadn’t even heard him lock the door. But trying to run and escape? It wasn’t possible.
Not even five minutes later, the door handle twisted. A tall, wide man stood in the entryway, staring back at me, a hood over his face, hiding it in the shadows. I jerked back against the wall, turned my face away…
Until I heard his voice.
“Emily.”
My eyes popped wide. I had to be hallucinating because that couldn’t be…
“Chop?” Slowly, I stood, disbelief clouding my mind. Why was he here?
Never had I wanted to be rescued by a prince, but a biker with a dragon tat, on the other hand, might just be okay. Even if said biker had hurt me in the past.
“You’re here,” I whispered, walking toward him, slow and steady, knees knocking together with both nerves and relief.
“Where’s Niyol and Slade? Flick?” I bit my lip, wincing. “I’m so sorry. I had to tell Pops things, but they have Archer.”
Chop didn’t smile at me in reassurance. In fact, he didn’t move a single muscle in his face.
I blinked, thinking maybe he still held a grudge about the fact that I’d left with Archer. But this was life or death. Or maybe they were all here, but none of them wanted to rescue me because of who I was.
“Where’s Niyol?” I looked behind him. “We need to tell them that Archer’s hurt and—”
“Come on.” He took my wrist, yanking me behind him. “You’re my responsibility now, so you’ll follow me.”
Pain shot up my arm. “You’re hurting me.”
Ignoring me, Chop moved faster, leading us down another hall, this one with flickering lights above, reminding me of a horror film. The walls were all made of bricks and nothing hung on them, like at the Red Dragon compound. No cuts, no old photos of former bikers, no dragon pictures either. But the thing that was most obvious as we moved throughout the building was the absence of actual bikers. There was no sense of brotherhood or friendship in the air. In fact, whenever we walked by someone, they stayed quiet, looking at me as though I were a leper. Fear pushed my heart into overdrive while panic stole my voice. The sneers and gazes back in Rockford were nothing in comparison to the men looking at me here.
“Where are we going?” I asked, tripping over a door frame, down another hall, and toward the front door.
“Just shut up, would you?”
Uncertain terror ran through my veins, and with all the strength I could muster, I yanked out of his hold, freezing just before he could lead us outside. “Where. Are we. Going?”
He turned to face me, backing me against the closest wall, a sneer on his lips, his hand to my throat. “To my room.”
“No.” I shook my head, my face going cold. “Y-you…” He wasn’t here to rescue me. Chop was a part of this.
Chop was a rogue. He dropped his hand from my neck and ran it through his mussed blond hair, taking a step back, calming just enough to where he almost looked like the man I thought I once could be friends with.
“How could you do this?” I whispered, placing a hand over my mouth.
The front door whipped open before he could answer me. A woman walked in, wearing a green dress that hit her knees; she had dark-brown hair that hung just below her chin, and friendly brown eyes. She also looked entirely too familiar.
At the sight of Angel behind her, I froze. There was no doubt in my mind that this was his mom. The similarities they shared were uncanny, down to the freckles across their noses.
Angel’s mom’s gaze was hesitant as she looked at me. She seemed like she wanted to smile but wasn’t sure how. “Good evening,” she said, and my heart lurched at the sound. She was Irish, like Archer. Their voices the same, hers just a little less pronounced. What were the odds?
Before I could say anything Chop grabbed my upper arm and tugged me outside.
“Hurry up, would you?” he asked, rushing us through a grassy front yard.
I looked back over my shoulder at Angel, whose mom had her hand out in front of his chest. My heart jumped a beat when I realized he wan
ted to protect me. I lost sight of them both as Chop tore through a grassy field and forced me to the back of the overgrown factory warehouse.
Tears filled my eyes immediately, but before I could speak, I was shoved inside another building—this one small and square like an efficiency apartment—stumbling back, then falling to the floor. Pain radiated up my wrists and I hissed, scooting until my shoulders hit a wall.
Only then did the man formerly known as Chop, the Red Dragon, lose his hateful glare and say, “You’re safe now, Emily. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Twenty-Five
Archer
A cold rag was on my head when I finally came to. This time when I saw her, I knew I wasn’t hallucinating.
“So glad you’re awake. You gave me quite the scare.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed myself up in the bed, but chains rattled my legs, sadly keeping me trapped.
“You… a ghost?” I croaked out, wincing at the burn in my throat, the throb in my head most of all.
Ma snickered under her breath and shook her head. The sound was so damn familiar I felt my throat close off from the memories this time, the emotions that never stopped coming when I thought about her.
“Ain’t no such things as ghosts,” she told me, wiping blood off my hands and arms that looked like it’d been there for days. Her movements were rough; I supposed it had been a while since she’d been a mother. But she was real, and here, and I couldn’t stop staring at her, even though I only had one good eye to look with right now.
“H-How…” I managed, then looked around, needing a drink for my throat. When I spotted one, I tried to nod my chin toward it, but my shoulders were too weak to hold my head up.
Thankfully, she picked up on it, putting the straw to my lips. I drank greedily, knowing if I kept at it, I’d likely puke again. But the water was cold and I couldn’t speak without it. I also couldn’t get out of here until I got my shit together—drinking was just one step toward that goal.
Her Hot Ride: A gripping and sexy biker mc romantic suspense novel Page 19