Chapter Fifteen
Outskirts of Salt Lake City, Utah
Highway Hellions Safe House
At the exact moment that Wolf was speaking those words, Violet was kneeling on a filthy floor in front of the Right-Guardian.
She had shown up in Utah in the wee hours that morning, after a tense wait on stand-by at the Denver airport. Thank Christ she’d gotten last minute on a red-eye to Salt Lake City, then she’d spent a frustrating few hours on the streets, asking around about The Highway Hellions clubhouse.
When she’d finally presented herself there at about five a.m., she’d immediately been taken to a beast of a man named Viper. He’d been suspicious yet intrigued when she’d explained that she was seeking the Right-Guardian Michael, and that she had very important information for him about a situation in Denver.
Viper had pressed and pushed, but Violet had been adamant: she would talk to the Right-Guardian only. He’d retreated to what looked like an office to make some phone calls, then re-emerged five minutes later looking grim. That was when he’d bundled her into a van, driven her about two hours out of the city, and pulled up at what must have been a lovely lake house, once upon a time.
So at last, now here she knelt. Her head was bowed, her hands clasped, her eyes averted. Her knees and thighs under her ached from holding the position for so long, but she couldn’t move until the Right-Guardian told her to.
And it all felt so familiar; it felt so right.
I’m back where I belong .
“So,” the huge, terrifying man next to the Right-Guardian said; she reflected that he most surely was the infamous Crusher that she’d heard Scars talk about. “Tell us everything, right from the beginning.”
Violet stayed silent, her eyes nailed on Right-Guardian Michael’s feet.
“Are you deaf, bitch?” the man snarled. “Or do you just have a fucking death wish?”
“She won’t talk to you,” the Right-Guardian said. “She doesn’t have my permission.”
“Seriously?” the man scoffed. “Jesus fuck , Web… drop the pathetic little power trip and get the cunt to talk to me.”
The Right-Guardian stiffened at that, and Violet almost looked up in shock at the blatant disrespect that had been shown to him. She had no say here, she knew, but she vented her feelings about the big rude pig by glaring at the floor.
“Woman-servant Violet. Look at me.”
Right away, she snapped her head up to meet Right-Guardian Michael’s eyes.
“Now,” he said softly. “Tell us everything, right from the beginning.”
Without any hesitation, Violet did exactly that. She told him about Briley rescuing Iris from the Garden basement, then taking Violet from the Garden, then the drive back to Colorado. She told him how Iris was going by the name Elle, and she was working for her own money and living with a red-bearded mountain of a man. She told him all about The Road Devils, and their depraved lifestyle and behavior, and finally – her voice hoarse by now – she told him about Briley appearing in Denver the night before, suddenly and out of nowhere. Violet wasn’t sure where she had come from, or where she was staying, but she assured the Right-Guardian that Briley Cross was in Denver, and she was still connected to The Road Devils somehow and for some reason.
She fell silent now, her wide green eyes searching Right-Guardian Michael’s face for approval. It was all she wanted now, because if he gave her that, then she could go home.
He gazed down at her, saw the hope on that beautiful little face, and he smiled.
“Thank you, Violet.” He reached for her with both hands, ran his fingers over her curved cheekbones. “You’ve been very helpful.”
She stared at him, her eyes beseeching, and he sensed that she wanted to say something.
“Yes?” he said. “Speak.”
“Did I –” She hesitated, trying to find the right words. “Did I do well by coming here?”
“You did, Violet.” He caressed her hair lazily, moved his fingers to the nape of her neck, slid his hands to both sides of her throat to feel her fluttering pulse. She leaned into his touch, her face adoring and worshipful, and that was when he smiled gently at her. “But not nearly well enough.”
He tightened his grip on her throat, squeezing and shaking her, his hands brutal and unforgiving now. Violet writhed on the floor, her nails cutting into his hands, trying desperately to get her feet under her somehow, but it was no use. He was above her, leaning forward with all his weight, his feet firmly planted on either side of her twisting, suffocating body.
“ Why ?” she managed to gasp with one of her last agonizing breaths. “I – I came back .”
“Dear, sweet Violet,” Michael said to her. “You should never have left.”
Then he snapped her neck.