Chapter Four
On the other side of town, Kenny used his weight and size to intimidate the woman sitting on the barstool. Riley Stewart didn’t dare blink or gaze in her sister’s direction.
“If you want your sister out of this life, someone has to pay,” he said, his hot, sour breath hitting her face.
“I already told you, I only have thirty-seven hundred dollars. It’s all I can pay,” she insisted.
Kenny walked in circles around her, giving her a chance to glimpse her sister. The black eye, busted lip, and the cut on her cheek made Riley want to rake her nails down the biker’s face.
His dirty finger ran a trail down her cheek. “Maybe we can come to some other arrangement,” he suggested quietly, while he glanced in his girlfriend’s direction.
“Tara never scratched your bike. If she did, thirty-seven hundred dollars would be more than enough to pay for it,” she ground out. “You didn’t need to rough her up.”
“We asked her, and the bitch lied,” Kenny gave Riley’s long ponytail a jerk.
Tara burst into tears as another monstrous biker moved closer to her.
“What do you want? I’ll pay for it. I’ll give you my earnings every week,” Riley called out, attempting to catch the attention of the biker close to her sister.
Kenny leaned close to her ear. “I don’t want your money.”
Riley braced herself, waiting for the man to assault her.
When she convinced Tara to run away from their alcoholic father, the biker bar hired her on with no proof of identification.
She kept Tara stowed away in the apartment two buildings down and warned her never to come inside.
Unfortunately, when her father discovered their whereabouts, Tara climbed down the fire escape and fled to her sister.
The biggest troublemaker in the bar latched on to her little sister, and Riley now found herself in a jam.
“I need a favor,” Kenny drawled. “You’ll go to Mystic Ranch and locate Garrett Johnson. You’ll seduce him and have him tell you what he did with the money. You’ll report every day. Once you figure out where he keeps it, I’ll let your sister go.”
“It might take me weeks to find the man, much less drag information out of him. Let my sister come with me. It’ll make him less suspicious,” she grasped at straws.
Kenny let out a sinister laugh. “You won’t need to worry. Your sister will stay with us for safekeeping.”
Riley felt the involuntary shiver run down her body, refusing to imagine what they might do to her sixteen-year-old sister while they waited for her to report to them. “How do I even recognize the man? What if he’s moved on? Ranch hands don’t stay long.”
The woman sitting in the corner rose from her chair and thrust a picture in her face. “Memorize it,” she ordered. “He has my money, and I want every single cent. If you come back empty-handed, we’ll let the boys have their fun,” she taunted, smiling broadly.
“You’re sick,” Riley spat. “She’s a young girl. I’ll find the damn man. If you know where he’s located, why don’t you grab him yourself?”
“Stupid girl,” Kenny swore. “He doesn’t know we’re out of prison. No use in letting the cat out of the bag quite yet. Find him and discover where he’s keeping the money. Then we’ll take care of him.”
“Fine, but I want some assurances. Nobody touches my sister,” Riley demanded.
The man behind her sister sniffed her hair and Riley jumped from her seat and launched herself toward the man, letting out a growl.
The man moved like lightning, knocking her to the floor.
His boot kicked her in the ribs, making her grunt in pain.
Tara whimpered as the man held a knife to her throat.
“You shouldn’t have riled Blade up,” Kenny said, shaking his head. “I think he likes her.”
Riley slowly sat up and glared in his direction. “It seems to me you’re up a shit creek. If you want me to locate this man and keep your name out of it, I suggest you think twice about Blade touching her. Unless you want Garrett to get wind of you searching for him,” she said, spitting out blood.
Kenny twisted his hand in her hair and dragged her back to her feet. She refused to give him the satisfaction of crying out, knowing it’d only terrorize her sister more.
“You have one week to find him and use your assets,” he said, pinching her behind hard.
“I can’t walk my way to Mystic Ranch,” she said calmly. “It’ll appear more suspicious if I show up walking down the drive. There’s nothing for miles,” she explained.
“Stitch, give her the keys to your car,” Kenny ordered. “Take the kid and put her beside my room and padlock the door. We don’t want big sis getting any ideas of sneaking in and taking her out from under our noses.”
“Don’t you think he’ll find it weird if I disappear every day? Can’t I call you and meet once a week? When I do, I want to see my sister. I’ll do your dirty work, but I want Tara safe,” Riley reiterated firmly.
“The kid will stay safe. Bernice will be the only one to bring her food and take her to the bathroom. If any of you assholes touch her, I’ll call Skull to handle it. Do I make myself clear?” Kenny asked the bikers in the room.
A mumbling went through the crowd as they nodded and sat back watching the scene unfold.
A fat, slovenly biker thrust a pair of keys in her hand. “She’s the green one on the far left. You'd better not scratch it. We don’t want another reason to punish little Tara.”
She clutched the keys in her hand and wondered when she and Tara would ever catch a break. Life seemed to go from bad to worse.
“Can I speak with Tara before I leave? I want to ensure she listens and doesn’t cause any trouble while I’m gone,” Riley explained.
Stitch hauled Tara up by the scruff of the neck, led her down the hall, and thrust her inside a room.
Riley heard the thud, indicating Tara hit the floor. She closed her eyes and bit her tongue from railing at these idiots.
Kenny shoved her hard, making her fall on the floor. “You got two minutes to say your goodbyes. Then, I’ll expect to hear from you by Thursday. If I don’t, Stitch will need a new toy to keep him occupied while we wait. No later than seven p.m. on Thursday. You got it?” he asked menacingly.
Riley pushed herself to her feet and scurried down the hall. Stitch leered at her as she passed him and entered the smelly room. Scanning the darkened room, she searched for any way to free Tara from the biker’s grasp. The filthy place contained no windows, and they planned to padlock the door.
Wasting no more time, she clutched her sister to her, who cried hysterically.
Riley cupped her face. “Don’t worry. I’ll find this Garrett and will have you out of here in a jiffy.
Do as they say and don’t attract any attention.
No showering or anything where you must remove your clothes,” she whispered.
“I’ll return as soon as I can. I won’t let you down. ”
Tara clung to her until Stitch pulled them apart and slammed the door shut. “You’d best be going, girl. Time’s a ticking.” He thrust a piece of paper with a number into her jeans pocket.
Riley licked her lips and held her elbow close to her side, refusing to let them see her in pain. She located the car and slid into the driver’s seat. It took five times to get the piece of junk to turn over. The men watched as she drove out of their makeshift compound.
The rain came down in sheets as she drove toward Mystic Ranch.
Her mind raced with a plausible excuse as to why she might be asking about one of the hands.
Astute to the ways ranches worked, a single woman riding in and asking for a man meant a couple of things.
He either knocked her up or she wanted a good time.
Ranch managers usually frowned on the latter as it promised to cause problems among the men.
She wiped her overgrown bangs away from her eyes as the rain came down in gusts, making it difficult to see. The brakes on the piece-of-junk car barely worked. She didn’t need to wreck Stitch’s car.
Riley worried about Tara and hoped her sister managed to hold it together until she returned.
The vehicle started chugging and lurching.
Lights flashed on the dashboard. “No, no, no. You can’t do this to me now,” she exclaimed as she moved it to the side of the road.
The car died shortly after she moved toward the ditch.
Riley placed her head on the steering wheel and groaned.
She needed to find Garrett Johnson as soon as possible.
This meant she needed to walk the rest of the way in the pouring rain and darkening sky.
She glanced in the back seat, hoping for an umbrella.
She only found a plastic bag from the grocery store.
She pulled it over her head and tucked the long blond ponytail inside and tied it to her head like a handkerchief.
Opening the door, she stepped out and shivered as the cold, water drenched her T-shirt and her arms. Locking the vehicle, she crossed her arms to shield herself from the onslaught as she pressed forward.
“Find Garret Johnson and save Tara,” became her mantra as she headed toward Mystic Ranch. She only prayed she found him in time.