Chapter 39
THIRTY-NINE
JINX
It doesn't seem easy to imagine now, but there was a definite time in my first years as a fully-patched member of the Kings that I found these kinds of rides to be thrilling. Nobody ever knew what to expect from the night; only that it would be unpredictable and dangerous.
But as I've grown older, a shift started within me.
Don't ask me to pinpoint when—it wasn't a particular event or anything anyone said that set it off.
There just came a moment when I recognized a tension in my midsection that only showed up when I was on these jobs.
A tension that grew, and gained weight, until it became a boulder in my gut, pressing against my lungs and forcing me to shift on my seat to dislodge the uneasy urge to go home.
To forget about all this shit and kick my feet up. Let it be somebody else's problem.
It's not the potential conflict that I have an issue with; I've never been afraid to speak my piece. I don't even think it's the dubious morality around the reasons for what we do. It's more of a feeling of just being tired. So damn tired.
No matter how many times we lay down the law in our parts, there'll always be another fucker who wants to try. Who thinks he can do better than the last guy.
And I'm over it. Fucking dead tired of pushing the same damn message into ignorant fucking minds.
Trying to reason with the unreasonable.
"You need to loosen up," Fang teases through the intercom. "I can see how white your knuckles are from here."
I glance at him riding on my right. "I get any looser, and you'll be trying to stick your dick in me."
“Ha fuckin’ ha.”
"Play nice, kids." Chaos throws his left arm down to shake out an ache. "How much farther is it?"
"Two miles," Darko chimes in from behind us all. "Take the right turn after this one."
"Did you not put it in your GPS?" Hammer asks.
Chaos sighs at our tail gunner's question. "May as well slap a note in my app to say what we're doing there, too, hey?"
"Fancy leading the fucking group and not knowing where you're going," Hammer quips right back.
"That's what Darko is for."
"I thought I was here because I can tell you where everyone is."
"Well, I hope it's not far for two reasons," I gripe. "One, I can't be fucked with a fight tonight, and two, I'm already hangry, so it won't take much for me to be the one to start it."
"You should have fuckin' eaten before we left, then," Chaos says.
I throw him a middle finger that he catches in his mirror. "Like you would have waited around for me to."
"Not my fault that you decided to fuck around when you were supposed to be gearing up."
"I wasn't fucking around."
"What were you doing, then?" Hammer quizzes.
Our group slows for the corner, conversation stalling until we've all made it around and straightened out again.
"None of anyone's business, really."
"How so?" Chaos presses, twisting on his seat to look back at me.
"Because there's nothing about it I need to share with you fucks. That's why."
"He was jerking off," Fang blurts.
"Oh yeah?" I laugh it off. "And how would you know that? You admitting you got a peephole into my room?"
"I know because the only time you ever shut your door is when you've got a woman in there, and considering all the bunnies were downstairs at the time making Thanksgiving invites…"
I swerve close enough to kick him in the thigh.
"Quit it!" He returns the favor.
"How about you both quit it before I'm turnin' you both into speed humps," Hammer growls.
"Third left," Darko tells Chaos as though nothing is amiss.
We ride in silence for a minute before Chaos calmly asks, "Does this mean you still haven't worked things out with Kyra?" Fucker's visor is pure black, but I can tell by the tilt of his head that he stares at me in his mirror.
"Watch where you're going," I say, "before I tell Vanessa you take unnecessary risks again."
"Try it and see what happens," he taunts.
"The mark messaged their buddy and said they're running late," Darko informs. "Didn't say why."
"You still got a location on their phone?" Chaos asks.
"Tracking's switched off."
Fuck it. "They're coming here, aren't they?"
I brought Kyra's info to the table, and the officers voted unanimously to move on it.
It took almost another week before Darko found a conversation that would provide us an easy in to the property.
The whole fucking deal was that the 'keeper' got invited to a poker night with a couple of brothers from the Devil's Breed.
He was supposed to be out for hours, giving us plenty of time to get on the property and scope things out.
"Second message from their contact asking how long they'll be because they'll miss being dealt in if they fuck around."
How the hell Darko manages to keep himself straight while doing all this shit on his phone, I don't know.
But props to the kid. I guess when you've had an electronic device in your hand since before you could properly talk, it comes as naturally as breathing.
I know if it were me trying to read messages and change apps, I'd be all over the road like a mad woman's shit.
"The mark says that they don't think they'll be long." Darko groans a sigh. "Yeah. They said they're checking stock levels."
The keeper is most definitely coming here, then. "Abort for another night?" As sick as that makes me feel when we were this close.
"Nope." Chaos increases his speed. "If they check stock levels, I'm willing to bet it means some of those girls ain't in a good way. You think giving them another week or three until we get an opportunity again will help?"
"I'm with you," Fang states.
"Of course you fuckin' are," Chaos grumbles.
Goes without question; he's our president—we're with him no matter if we agree or if we don't.
"Back up plan?" I prompt.
"Where are the hotspots on the property, Darko?"
"Freestanding garage to the left. Cellar door on the right."
"That's if they don't have them in the house," Hammer adds.
"They wouldn't be that stupid. Cops can show up and look through the windows any time they want. They need a permit to get through doors."
"I pick cellar," Darko calls. "Sounds way more interesting than a fucking garage."
"You get far too much joy out of this," Hammer notes.
"So?"
"I'll join you," Fang says.
"Jinx," Chaos says. "You go with me through the garage. Hammer. Stay point."
"Why do I miss out on the fun?"
"Because you've got the loudest voice to fuckin' holler if there's trouble."
"Fair," he mumbles.
Our group swings around the left turn, staggering positions when the road narrows. The asphalt chips away, and grass creeps onto the sides of the dark surface. A mailbox marker illuminates in the night, its pale orange glow growing as we near.
"That's the one," Darko whispers as though that'll fucking hide us when the growl of our bikes carries through the night.
"How long do you think we have before they get here?" Chaos asks, turning into the driveway.
"I'd say, given what time they should have left home, less than fifteen but more than eight," Darko answers.
"Oddly specific."
I agree with Hammer, but that's why we let Darko do what he does—he's fucking great with the details.
With the bikes assembled in position for an easy getaway, we split toward our respective destinations. Chaos strides toward the garage, gun still holstered on his body, not a care in the fucking world. Asshole has too much confidence for his own good.
And me, walking backward to watch his back as I scan the horizon for signs of the keeper.
"Ain't even padlocked," he gripes, sliding the deadbolt open. "Tell me they aren't here without telling me."
He hefts the left door open and frowns into the dark. I lean sideways against the still closed door, glancing between the horizon and what lies inside. The definite outline of a vehicle shadows the heart of the space, stacks of fuck knows what behind it. No obvious sign of people.
"Check the floor."
Chaos sighs, wandering into the darkness to circle the old car, kicking up dust as he does. I do a quick sweep of the outside of the building, noting there are no facilities for power or water. It looks less and less likely we'll find any girls here.
"Nothing," Chaos affirms, stepping out the door as I reach the front again.
He takes off across the yard toward the cellar door, Hammer raising an arm to give us a thumb up in the distance. I barely round the corner of the house before I crash into Chaos's back. An ear-splitting squeal cracks through the night as a streak of red and grey goes bolting to our right.
"Ah, shit." I take off after the woman, boots striking dirt as she crashes over the three-wire fence around the adjacent field.
"Fuck's sake," Chaos hollers behind me, presumably at the mess that unfolds under the house.
"Hey!" I leap the fence, knees jarring as I hit the ground on the other side. "We're here to help!"
"Fuck off!" The young woman pushes on, her heaving breaths reaching me as I close in on her.
I throw my arm out, snagging her shirt in my fist as I take us both to the ground.
"No! I'm not fucking going back." Rough nails cut at my arms, her legs thrashing between mine. "Let me go."
"I'm not taking you back." My reassurance sounds more like a threat, given the hundred pounds of wild animal bucking atop my chest.
"Sure, buddy." She stops fighting for a split second before sinking her teeth into my forearm.
"The hell!" I press harder into the bite, shoving my arm into her mouth to break the force of her assault. "Just fuckin' listen for a second, would you?"
"Ligh-en?" She protests against my arm, tongue lashing my wounded skin in the process. “Ah oo er reel?”
"We're not from the same club as the one who probably brought you here, okay?" I rearrange my hold on her and push up so that we sit tight against one another, her nestled sideways between my legs. "We're here to get you home."
She falls silent while hollers and squeals echo from the distant house.
"I don't have a home to go back to." Her whispered confession cleaves my heart more than anything else that might have happened in that cellar.
"What?"
"Neither do most of those girls." She nods toward the house. "That's why we're here. Because we had no other option."
"To sell yourself into slavery?" I swallow hard. Bite back the torrent of reprimand begging to be let free.
"Fucks sake. We're not that stupid." Her head lolls backward as she sighs. "They told us we'd have work in a bar. Waitressing. Or, if we wanted the big bucks, stripping."
I let loose a sigh and lighten my grip on her. "When did you realize?"
"That this was something else?" She chuckles. "When they stripped us naked and took photos of our bodies."
"Either way, you're not staying here." I move my grip to one of her arms and get to my feet.
Damn woman slips my grip and scrambles to make a run for it.
A swift boot beneath her feet sends her crashing to the ground again. "Quit it."
"You quit it." She tries to run again.
I pin her to the ground with my boot between her shoulders. "You want to go back in that cellar?"
"I already said I don't."
"Then why are you makin' this so damn difficult?"
"You try having your independence taken away by a man and then see how receptive you are to taking instruction from one."
I heave another deep breath. "At least go calm the others down." I frown at the distant outline of Darko wrestling a kicking and screaming woman toward the bikes.
The girl on the ground begins to speak, yet falls silent as yellowed light sweeps across the field. Shit. The headlights turn toward the house, approaching from the opposite direction we did.
"You've got two seconds to decide," I growl. "Run for the bikes or take your fucking chances in that cellar again."
Her wild gaze meets mine, hands pressed against the dirt. An understanding passes between us as I lift my foot off her back.
The woman matches me stride for stride as we bolt toward our escape, hair flowing behind her as she pushes herself to the limit. I boost her over the fence, hollering as I vault it myself, "Far right!"
She sprints toward my bike as Darko settles his wildcat in front of him, Chaos and Hammer each with a wide-eyed woman on the back of their rides. My chest tightens when I spot Fang, helping what has to be a fucking child onto the tank of his bike, a young woman already poised on the back.
"Are there any more?" I yell as I pass him.
"Not alive." He starts his bike, barely a second passing before he twists the throttle and follows the others in a spray of dirt and stones.
"You're gonna need to hold on tight."
The runner nods frantically, sarcastically, as the keeper's car comes to a skidding halt at the end of the driveway. "Be good if you could hurry the fuck up."
I swing my leg over, thread my arm through the strap of my helmet, and pray that she gets settled in time as I start the engine.
Her shaking hands find my middle as I twist the throttle and we rocket toward the road.
The keeper climbs out of their car, the sweep of their arm happening in slow motion as we skid out of the driveway and hit the road, tire whipping back into line.
The discharge of the weapon sounds like a mere pop of fireworks as I push the engine to its limit, adrenaline bringing that fucking thrill of the chase back from wherever it's lain dormant these past years.
We reach the others at the intersection, our formation scattered to the wind as we ride, fueled by pure need to get home.
To get safe.
"Hey!" My pillion slaps her hand against my right shoulder. She threads her left hand under my arm to shove it before my face. "You're bleeding!"
Well fuck me—so I am.