Hard Roads (17 page)

I wondered if she’d taken my advice or if the fighting spirit she had inside her revived once I was no longer there to talk her down from the ledge.

I wondered if she was even still breathing.

Why had I stopped? I didn’t even know where she was and who’d taken her. Hector wasn’t a name I recognized. I didn’t even know if it was the name of the man who now held her. Somehow, despite all the roadblocks constructed in my head and the questions echoing through my thoughts, the prayers laced within that silent wind spoke louder. Climbing back on my bike, I turned the key, listening to the engine roar to life beneath me and I turned the bike so that I was now heading back in the direction from which I’d been running.

Returning once again to the life I wanted nothing more but to forget, I rode in the direction of the one person I thought could help me weed through all of this bullshit.

When it came down to leaving everything behind, I couldn’t do it. My last act had doomed another soul to slaughter. I couldn’t ride away weighed down by the knowledge that I was just as guilty and evil as the men I never wanted to see.

I needed to right one last wrong in order to be truly free of a life I never wanted in the first place.

. . .

The most recognizable sound I’ve ever known is that of a shotgun being cocked. The slide of metal against metal, back and forth until you know that if you’re not the man holding the gun, you’re about to be the man blown into pieces.

I wasn’t surprised to hear it considering I was sneaking around on another man’s property on a night so dark that not even the moon could illuminate the ground where I was walking.

“Who the fuck are you? And you better talk fast motherfucker because my finger is tight over this trigger.” The low growl of a baritone voice called out over the quiet space and I stopped in my tracks, raising my hands up in surrender even though it was too dark for Henry to see me.

“It’s me. JD.” I spoke loud and clear in hopes that he wasn’t too drunk to remember the punk kid of his former best friend.

Silence hung between us, thick and suffocating like a down comforter over your body on a hot summer day.

“Don’t know if I believe you because I haven’t seen or heard from JD in over ten years. If you’re really who you say you are, prove it. What’d I used to call you?”

My lip quirked with a smile, my head shaking to think that this fucker would bring that up immediately, after not talking to me for so long.

“You called me Limp Dick.”

A soft chuckle floated over from my right and I turned in the direction of the sound. Henry was still concealed in shadow so I played along and kept my hands out to my sides.

“Nope. That’s too easy. Lots of men knew what I called you. So tell me this: Why did I call you Limp Dick?”

This time the soft chuckle echoing through the space rolled out of my lungs. “Really man? You haven’t spoken to me in ten years and that’s the first thing you’re going to bring up?”

“Sounds like you’re stallin’ to me. Think my finger here is getting tighter.”

My smile broadened at his threat and I quickly rattled off what I knew he wanted to hear. “Because I couldn’t get it up with the club slut you paid to fuck me when I turned 13.”

Silence again before he responded, “That’s not the reason.”

Goddammit. He wasn’t going to let this go.

“Because I paid her even more than you to stay in the room with me for three hours and pretend like it was the best fuck she ever had.”

More silence.

“And?”

My head fell down and I shook it in amused disbelief. “And because she took my money, still left to tell you I couldn’t get it up and I cried.”

My words were met with a burst of laughter that rumbled throughout the cool night air. “Damn straight, Limp Dick, and don’t you forget it.”

Still laughing, he stepped out of the shadow that was thick against the house where he lived. In four large strides, he’d crossed the distance between us, wrapping his large arms around me and pulling me into a tight embrace. Normally, I never allowed a man to greet me in this way, but Henry had raised me just as much as my father and I knew there was no fighting the fact that he looked at me like I was his own son.

Pulling back, he released his hold on me and his smiling laughter was replaced by an angry scowl. “Now what the fuck are you doing sneaking around on another man’s property unannounced in the dead of fucking night? I taught you better than that, shithead, so tell me why you’re trying to get yourself killed.”

“I’m not trying to get myself killed.”

“Don’t make no sense then about why you’re being so stupid.” He slapped my shoulder so hard that I stepped to the right to keep from falling over.

“Now get your ass inside where an old man can see you properly.”

We both laughed that time because the truth was that Henry wasn’t more than 15 years older than me. He’d been my father’s Sergeant of Arms, having earned that position with his skill and knowledge even though he was considered by some to be too young to hold rank within the MC. My dad didn’t care anything about age and said he’d made the decision because he knew he could protect the brothers better if he had intelligent people running things.

Once we’d entered the house, I looked around and noticed the typical decorations used by a bachelor who had no interest in anything besides guns and alcohol. Empty bottles littered the space, only broken up by the filled ashtrays that looked like they hadn’t been dumped in months. I knew better, though. Those could have been dumped yesterday, but Henry couldn’t function without a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth. Strewn over every available surface were greasy gun parts I knew that no person could match up if they tried. Henry had a way of scattering things just so he’s the only one who would know how to find the right pieces and put shit back together.

We settled into two chairs at a small, rickety table in the tiny corner kitchen and I looked at Henry in the dim light, noticing how his hair still hung down his back, but instead of the jet black it used to be, it was now broken up with silver streaks that matched the stripes in his beard.

“Damn kid. It’s been a while. You finally look like a man.” His brown eyes searched my face as his lips crinkled up into a smile. “In fact, you look a lot like your father.” He chuckled. “Which only means you’re ugly as shit.”

Laughing, I sat back in my chair. “Can’t say you’re looking much better.”

“Was that supposed to hurt my feelings? Because you missed the mark when you forgot I already know I’m ugly.” Picking up a pack of no-filter smokes, he lit one end, pulling a long drag before settling back and asking, “What kind of trouble you in?”

“What makes you think I’m in trouble?” Same ol’ Henry. Fucker always could read my mind.

“Wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.” He looked at me with a cocked eyebrow, puffing away so that the cigarette smoke damn near concealed his face.

“Do you want the long story or the short one?”

He didn’t respond, just looked at me like I was an idiot and waited for me to talk.

“Okay, I have a problem, but it’s one I’m going to handle myself. The only reason I’m here is because I need information and I think you might have it.”

His hand reached for an open whiskey bottle to the side and after taking a long swig, he handed it across the table to me. I wasted no time in swallowing the burning liquid down.

“Not sure I can help you, but I can try. What is it you need to know?”

I didn’t beat around the damn bush with him. He was a man of few words who appreciated people who cut to the point. “I need to find a girl and get her out of a bad situation.”

He groaned before mumbling, “It’s always about a bitch…”

“It’s not like that. I’m the one responsible for her being in the situation in the first place. That’s the only reason I’m sticking my neck out to do something about it. I’m responsible so I have to make it right.”

Blowing out a deep breath, he pinched the skin between his eyes with his fingers, taking another long drag from his cigarette before asking, “Who are you up against in this?”

“Don’t know, exactly. Some associate of Diablo’s.”

The cloud of smoke he blew out only added to the disbelief in his voice. “Diablo? Are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck are you doing having anything to do with a psycho like Diablo?”

I remembered quickly that Henry hadn’t had much to do with Hell’s Rebellion since my father passed. He and Big John didn’t see eye to eye. When John was voted in to take over as Prez, most of my father’s crew dipped out, wanting nothing more to do with an MC that they believed was going downhill.

“He’s been the supplier for Hell’s Rebellion over the past two years. Him and John are in tight when it comes to finances, if you know what I mean.”

“Goddamn boy, your father must be turning over in his grave on a daily fucking basis. I can’t understand why you’re still having anything to do with those assholes. John never gave a fuck about the brothers, it’s always been dollar bills flashing in his eyes and I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he had something to do with your daddy’s death. We made along just fine not involving drug lords in our dealings. Can’t trust those fuckers.”

I sighed, not wanting to give him the full story as to why I owed a debt to the MC. “Yeah, well, that’s not what’s important. I was told some guy named Hector took Holly off Diablo’s hands. I need to find this Hector guy and get her back.”

Silence again and a blank expression on his face. He stared straight ahead, the gears turning in his head processing what I’d just told him.

“Please tell me that the Holly you’re talking about is NOT the same Holly that recently went missing from Dominion. The same fucking Holly that is the daughter of the Joker.”

“One in the same, I’m afraid.”

“Fuck!” He stood up and the metal legs of his chair scraped against the wood floor. “And you hold yourself responsible? Are you the fucker that took her?”

My head bowed in shame, I confessed, “Yeah, under John’s orders.”

His boots paced the floor, back and forth in front of me, and I didn’t dare look up to see the anger and disappointment in his expression. I didn’t need to see the look in his eyes to know he wanted to put a bullet in me right then and there. When his feet finally stopped moving and I could see them standing right in front of me, I looked up, ready to face whatever fucking lecture I was about to receive.

He surprised me when he pulled a snub-nosed .38 from where it had been tucked in the back of his jeans, released the cylinder, spinning it as he checked the bullets before snapping it back in place.

“Don’t ask me how I know this, because I won’t answer you.” He stared at me until I nodded my head in understanding. “Hector is a trafficker who moves women faster than Hell’s Rebellion has ever been able to move drugs. Don’t know why he’s dealing with Diablo, but I suspect it has something to do with the fact that drugs and keeping women silent can go hand in hand. IF…and that’s a big ‘if’… he still has Holly, we only have a handful of days before she’s lost to the world, you understand me? There’s no fucking telling what he’ll do with her. Her face is too fucking familiar ‘round these parts to keep here. How long has he had her?”

“Not even 24 hours. I just found out and then I came here.”

Nodding, he said, “Good. Should give us plenty of time.” He grew silent again and I noticed the sun peeking over the horizon and across the desert that stretched out from his house. I’d made good time rolling down here and I was surprised I’d reached his place before the sun had a chance to rise.

“Guess we’re going to have to do this the right way. We’ll call her daddy. He has enough men…”

“That won’t work.” I interrupted.

He looked over at me, confusion alight in his eyes. “And why the hell not? Joker’s got at least 200 men he can get over here. He might have lost his damn mind since the Saint died, but he’s not going to let his girl get turned into a fucking whore.”

“It won’t work because Dominion is most likely itching to kill me as well.”

He didn’t need to speak for me to know he expected an explanation to follow my statement.

“I killed two of his guys who tried to stop me when I was leaving Arizona with her. Didn’t recognize them except for the patches on their cuts. I’m not even sure how they knew I had her. Scooter was the one who grabbed her from a parking lot. He passed her off to me on a fucking side road that led to the Nevada border.”

Henry crouched down in front of me so that he could look at me eye to eye. “You’re a dumb fuck, you know that?”

The only thing I could do was nod.

A sigh whistled over his lips and he stood back up to pace the floor once again. Minutes passed without a word being spoken between us and he finally moved to the window, looking out at the red and pink sky.

“I think I know another way we can fix this for you, but you won’t be able to pull it off on your own. After it’s all said and done, you’re going to return that girl to her father and hope to God he lets you walk away with your dick still attached.”

“He’ll kill me on sight, you know that.”

Another few seconds of silence and he answered, “He won’t if I have anything to do with it, but only if we fix this shit before you face him.”

Chapter Eighteen

~ Holly ~

Days passed, I think. Wasn’t sure because there weren’t any windows for me to watch the sun rise and set in the sky. What I had were the same white walls with the same brown stains and some new red ones that appeared in the time I’d been held in this room. Some were from me and some were from the other three girls that had been moved in, raped, beaten and then moved out.

So, it could have been days, maybe hours or minutes. Time didn’t exist in this space and the drugs they kept in my system made it impossible for me to know if a second had passed or an hour. Trapped inside my head, I couldn’t forget the looks on those poor girls’ faces, the terror that flooded their eyes when they looked to me for help. They screamed and the only thing I could do was watch them like the ghosts at Diablo’s place had watched me.