“You have a towel?” I asked, feeling self-conscious. Sure, he’d seen me naked … but that was before. He stepped out of the bathroom, returning seconds later to hold a towel out to me wordlessly. I dried off quickly, then wrapped it around me.
“You’re all bruised up,” he said.
I shrugged. “Shit happens.”
“C’mon over to the bed. Let’s talk.”
“Is this like the last ‘talk’ we had?” I asked, my voice rasping—probably from all the screaming I’d done. “I know you’re in charge, but I’m still kind of sore down below. Not sure I can handle more talking quite yet.”
He shook his head, eyes serious. I walked over to him as he sat on the bed and learned back against the wall. He caught my hand and tugged me down until I settled between his legs, my back to his stomach. His arms came around me and I let myself relax into his heat and strength, wishing things had been different.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked him finally, hating to break the strange sense of peace that had settled between us. “I realize you have no reason to believe me, but I’m sorry for what I did, Reese. Really sorry, and not just because it backfired on me. I know it was wrong and stupid and you’ll never trust me again … but if there’s a way for me to help you fight, I want to do it.”
“Fight? What do you mean?”
“I’m not stupid. These people—these drug dealers—they’re out to hurt you, and probably a whole lot of other people, too.”
“They’re a cartel. Big one, out of Mexico. Control the West Coast trade, up through northern Cali. Movin’ upward now into Oregon and southern Idaho.”
“I want to stop them. I don’t care what it takes,” I murmured, burrowing deeper into his embrace. My neck still hurt from the tiny cut he’d given me, but considering I’d tried to shoot him, I’d gotten off easy. At least so far. I still didn’t know what they planned to do with me, but for the moment I chose not to think about the future.
Sounds crazy, but even now I felt safe when he held me.
“What about Jess?” he asked.
“I don’t think they ever planned to let her go,” I whispered. “I think she’s going to die unless someone stops them. Kills them. They’re evil.”
“Wish you weren’t right,” he replied, and I felt his chin come to rest on top of my head. “Cartel bastards think I’m dead now. Think you shot me, then killed yourself. They still aren’t gonna let her go, even though we gave them what they wanted.”
Shit. I’d suspected, but hearing Reese lay it all out felt like a punch to the gut. I swallowed.
“How did you convince them we’re dead?”
“Deputy Dick told them.”
“Why would he lie to them? Isn’t that dangerous?”
“We asked him very nicely.”
Somehow I didn’t think Reese was using the word “nicely” in the traditional sense. Didn’t sound promising for Nate’s future prospects. I considered the situation—did it bother me that the Reapers had obviously done something terrifying and horrible to make him lie?
No. It really didn’t. Did that make me a bad person?
I decided I didn’t care.
“He used Jess, then he sent her down to those people knowing what they are,” I said slowly. “And he tried to turn me into a murderer. I don’t know if it’s allowed under the circumstances, but I’d like to see him before you kill him. Talk to him. I have things to say, and I’d like to see his face when he realizes he lost.”
“Assuming we had him—and I’m not sayin’ we do—why would we let you witness something that could be used against us?”
“I want to be an accomplice,” I told him, the words spilling out of me with sudden force. “I want to make Nate pay, and I want to shut those fuckers down. I know you’re planning to do something big. I can sense it—all those meetings? People coming in from all over, and extra security? There’s something happening and I’m in the middle of it now. I messed everything up with you, and I know you can’t trust me … But I’ll do whatever I can to help. Anything. I figure there’s a good chance I won’t survive this situation and I’m coming to peace with that—but I really want to make Nate pay before I go, Reese. I want to look him in the eye and watch him suffer. Then I want to shoot him.”
The thought made me smile, and I wondered how the hell I’d gone from cleaning lady to bloodthirsty killer. Okay, so I wasn’t a very competent killer, but the sentiment was there …
“Damn,” he muttered, pulling me into him tighter. “When did you turn so hard-core?”
“When I realized my girl is dying or already dead”—the words made me choke, but I forced myself to push past them—“and that Nate Evans is the reason. I had a good life before I met him. It wasn’t perfect, but I had a home and a family, and he took them away from me. Fuck him, Reese. He should have to pay for what he did.”
I felt Reese’s lips touch the top of my head as I bit back tears. I didn’t want to cry or look weak or beg for mercy—I’d made my bed … Now I had to own up to my choices.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Sorry for all of it. For trying to shoot you. For not trusting you. You didn’t deserve any of this.”
“Little late for that.”
“I know.”
Silence fell again.
“We’re going to Portland in a couple of hours,” Reese said softly. “Then we’re heading down to California to make a strategic strike at the cartel leadership. Got our targets already, been scoping ’em out for a long time now. I’m going to try and find Jessica while I’m down there.”
I felt a sudden surge of hope, then bit it back. I couldn’t afford hope.
“How can I help?”
“You can’t, unless you remembered something you haven’t told us already?”
I shook my head, thinking hard.
“I told you everything,” I said. “I wish I knew more. Will you let me see Nate?”
He didn’t answer for a minute, and then he sighed.
“Yeah. But you can’t shoot him. We might still need his ass.”
“What’s going to happen to him?”
“That’s on a need-to-know basis. Somethin’ you should learn about the club—we don’t like it when people ask too many questions. We’ll be leaving soon, and you’re coming with us. Marie is bringing over some shit for you to wear.”
My breath caught.
“Does she know what I did?”
“Nope,” he said. “And she won’t. We don’t need the girls all worked up about your situation, so keep your mouth shut if you happen to see one of them.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
“For what?”
“Trusting me again.”
“I don’t trust you for shit.”
“You trust me enough to come to Portland with you. I can’t change what happened, but I promise I won’t fuck up again, Reese.”
“You really expect me to fall for that?”
I sighed, so many thoughts running through my head that I couldn’t hardly catch them all …
“Just promise me one thing,” I said finally.
“What’s that?”
“If there’s a way for me to help you stop the cartel, let me do it. I don’t care if it’s dangerous. You can even use me for bait, if you think it’ll work. I just want the chance to fight back, for Jessica and for me.”
He exhaled hard. “We’ll see.”
Half an hour later I was dressed in biker babe clothing just a little too small for my generous curves. Marie and I were the same height, but my chest was a little more … substantial. At least I was warm and dry. They’d even found me a leather jacket somewhere, which was important because apparently I’d be riding to Portland on the back of Reese’s bike. This surprised me—I’d assumed he wouldn’t want me around, or that his brothers wouldn’t tolerate me.
Apparently the politics of biker betrayal were more complicated than I realized.
People had started gathering for the trip when Reese led me down the stairs and into the basement for a second time that night. I followed him down the hallway until we reached the same nasty, scary room where they’d hung me from the ceiling just a few hours earlier.
Things were moving so fast I could hardly keep up.
Reese pushed the door open, and I walked in to find Nate sitting in a battered metal chair, his arms and legs tied down tight. A dirty bandanna had been used to gag his mouth. Dried blood crusted his face and hair. It looked to me like one of his hands had been smashed with a mallet.
He wasn’t a happy camper.
The fire I felt died a little, because imagining Nate in pain and seeing him like this were two very different things. I didn’t feel sorry for him, exactly. Just sort of creeped out. I was determined, though. I wanted to personally make him pay and this was my big opportunity.
“You wanted to talk to him?” Bolt asked, and I glanced over to see he’d been waiting for us in the room. I nodded hesitantly.
“Nate, are you awake?” I asked. My former boyfriend’s eyes flickered open, catching on my face.
“You want the gag off?” Reese asked, his hand at the small of my back. I still had no idea what the club had planned for me in the next twenty-four hours, but at least they hadn’t beaten the shit out of me like this. Good thing, too. I had too much work to do before they killed me. Jessica needed saving and I wanted revenge, too. After that? Well, I’d probably be dead then, so I guess I wouldn’t worry about it.
“No, I don’t want to hear anything he has to say,” I answered. Then I took a deep breath, steeling myself. “Nate, I came down here because I want you to know I see exactly who and what you are. You’re a pathetic, evil little man, and I hope they kill you. I already asked Reese if I could shoot you and he said no. I found this very disappointing.”
Nate’s eyes widened and I smiled, understanding for the first time in my life how one person could enjoy hurting another, because for better or worse this felt kind of good.
Empowering.
I stepped closer, leaning down to examine his smashed hand.
“That’s never going to heal up right,” I said softly, then looked up at his face. One of his eyes was swollen nearly shut, and it took everything I had not to poke it, just to see him flinch. “So I’ve been trying to decide what I should do to make you pay … I could hit you, or poke you, or maybe just take those broken fingers of yours and start twisting them around for fun. Maybe cut them off? That’s what your friends did to Jessica.”
He grunted frantically and I spat in his face, which was vaguely satisfying, but nowhere near enough. I stood up, glancing around the room. In the corner was a pile of wood scraps, including a chunk of two-by-four about the length of a bat. Perfect. I walked over and grabbed it, hefting it experimentally. Felt good in my hand.
Gage gave a low, warning whistle.
“We need him alive,” he said. “And able to talk.”
I nodded thoughtfully, then walked back toward Nate, studying his frame. Drawing back the wood, I swung it at his right knee with everything I had. It hit with a crunch and he screamed through the gag. I felt a little sick to my stomach, but forced myself to speak.
“That’s for using Jessica, and sending her down to California.”
Taking a deep breath, I hit him again, this time on the other knee. He gave another piercing screech, then started a low, steady keening in pain.
“That’s for fucking things up with me and Reese.”
I paused to consider the situation. I wanted to hit him again. I’d planned one blow for each thing he’d done to ruin my life, which meant I still owed him for lying to me and for blowing up my house. Instead I dropped the two-by-four, because no matter how much the man deserved to suffer, a part of me realized I was sinking to his level.
Turning toward Reese, I spoke. “I’m good. Thanks for that.”
He raised a brow.
“Sure? You might not have another chance.”
I shrugged.
“He’s like a vicious dog,” I told him softly, realizing it was true. “No point in torturing a dog, even one that’s a killer. Best to just shoot it in the head and dump the body.”
Nate made another noise and I heard the chair scrape against the concrete floor. Ignoring him, I focused on Reese, holding those ice-blue eyes of his steadily, savoring the sight of the little wrinkles at the corners as he gave me a strange little smile. In the background, I was vaguely aware that Gage watched us curiously. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.
“You ready to go?” Reese asked me quietly. I nodded. Whatever happened next, I wasn’t lying or playing games. I’d made my decision and it filled me with a weird sense of peace.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
By the time we hit Portland, I was exhausted but still absolutely determined to do whatever I could to help the club—not only were they my best hope for saving Jessica, they were also my best shot at some sort of revenge for what those cartel fuckers had done to my life.
I needed sleep first, though. In a big way.
The short rides I’d taken with Reese hadn’t come close to preparing me for this. My ass had started to hurt, growing slowly worse until finally it went numb. Even if I hadn’t been sleep-deprived the trip would’ve killed me. Just to make things more pleasant, not one of the fifteen men riding with us would talk to me, or even look me in the eye.