56. Ransom
56
RANSOM
I t’s chaos out here.
Women in beautiful dresses and men in pristine suits tripping over each other to get to their cars. Honking, scattering as they flee the estate.
I spot Arris’s car immediately. But there’s no one inside of it.
If he isn’t in his car…
There’s a loud roar coming from the side of the house. A man stumbles and trips, barely making it out of the way as a dirt bike zips around the corner.
Not just any dirt bike .
Loren’s dumbass dirt bike. With Arris gunning the gas.
I leap into action. Even with everything going on, Chaucer just hangs out by the side of the house, comfortably chewing his dandelions and watching everything rush around him.
I grab the saddle and hoist myself into it. Immediately, he goes alert.
“C’mon!” I tell him. “Time to cowboy up. ”
Chaucer gets it. He lifts his head, gives a sharp snort, and takes off.
He’s been pampered over the years. But that doesn’t change the fact that, once upon a time, this was Kentucky’s fastest racehorse on the track.
I’ve got a thousand pounds of muscle and strength between my thighs. I lock into the saddle and encourage him. His hooves thud on the dirt road, and I follow the high-pitch whine of Arris’s bike.
He sees us coming. He zips off the road, trying to tangle us in the woods.
Big mistake.
Chaucer knows these woods. Even in the dark, it’s all I can do to hold tight as Chaucer winds expertly through the trees.
We’re gaining on the headlights, bouncing up ahead.
“Ha!”
The motorbike rips through the terrain. Kicks up dirt and sprays it out. Destroys everything it runs over.
Chaucer and I weave together, a wild shadow whipping through the trees. My heart pounds in time with his hooves, a low, steady clu-clump .
We’re close now. I grip the saddle in one hand and, with the other, unspool the rope on my side.
One clear shot. That’s all I need .
There’s a clap, like thunder. The air sings, and a bullet cracks into the tree beside me.
Fuck .
I’m not the only one with a plan. Arris fumbles his gun, shooting at us as he rides.
He misses, but barely. I can’t risk him hitting Chaucer.
Now or never.
I can barely see in the dark. Adrenaline rushes through me, making my heart beat out of my chest. Chaucer huffs and pants, his body straining to keep up with the roaring bike.
But that’s the good thing about roping. I don’t need my sight.
Feel it. Be the horse. Be the rope .
I spin the lasso. Once. Twice. Now . I toss it out, and it sings through the air…
And loops around Arris.
Bingo .
I wrap the end around my knuckles and yank. Arris goes flying back, right off the back of his bike. The force of it vibrates through my arm, nearly whipping me off Chaucer. I tighten my thighs and my grip. Pain lights up my arm, but I don’t release.
Unmanned, the dirt bike spins out. It whines and screeches as it nails a tree, rolling downhill.
Chaucer whinnies and jerks against the new weight.
“We got him,” I tell him. “Slow now.”
Chaucer trusts me. He lessens his pace, moving away from the screaming bike.
Arris drags behind us. He’s still alive. Shouting. Cursing me out. Mad as an alley cat. Wiggling like a fish on a hook. The rope is around my arm and cinched off at my middle, and I feel it constrict. I let him drag a little further until we find a clearing with a stretch of moonlight.
Chaucer’s panting when we stop. I pat his side. I feel the heat of him. The sweat dampening his shoulder blades. “You still got it, old man.”
He huffs, which I translate to I know .
I hop off. The leaves rustle below as I hit the ground. I unwind from the rope and reel the body of Arris Dagney in.
Arris has piped down finally. He’s breathing heavily on the ground. There’s dirt across his face, scratches, but all in all, he doesn’t look too banged up.
“Go ahead,” he says. His voice is hard, though some of the fire has left it. “Kill me. I’m not afraid of death.”
“Good for you,” I tell him. “But that ain’t my style.”
I flip him onto his stomach. He tries to wiggle, but my knees trap the backs of his legs. I rope up his arms and legs, hog-tying him firmly in place.
There. He ain’t going anywhere now.
“Must suck,” I tell him, “getting one-upped by a Sooter and a retired racehorse.”
Arris groans, which is good enough for me.
A loud whistle makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
That ain’t no bird ? —
I hear the crunch of boots on autumn leaves. When I turn, I see two men step into a clearing. I don’t recognize either of them. The whistler is tall, with a leather jacket and black hair. The other has the shoulders of a linebacker and dark, intense eyes.
The tall one motions to the hog-tied form of Arris. “Aw. You shouldn’t have. You wrap him all up in a pretty bow for us and everything.”
I bristle. “Who the hell’re you?”
The tall one lifts his shirt. It takes my eyes a second to see it in the moonlight. At his hip, I recognize that same wolf tattoo that Everett has on his arm. “Friend of your friend,” he says with a wink. “We got your lady’s bat signal. Smart girl.”
Friends. Good guys. Relief rushes through me like a waterfall.
“You’ve got no idea,” I tell him .
They crouch down next to Arris. The tall one clicks his tongue. “Sergey. Tsk, tsk. Couldn’t stay quiet, could you?”
Arris snaps something in Russian. I make out the word Wolfpack and a string of something that doesn’t sound all that pretty.
The tall one traces his finger along the rope. “Nice knots,” he says. He cocks his head to his quiet partner. “He could give you some lessons.”
The other man frowns. “We’ll take it from here.”
Which is a relief to hear. I’m tapped out.
I start to get up, but my legs buckle. The quiet man catches me. “You okay?”
“Yep.” My side is burning up. I clutch it. It’s wet. I peel my palm back and spot marks of red, spilling out through a hole in my shirt.
“Ah. Crap.”
I guess Arris didn’t miss all of his shots.
My knees give. I’m glad I’m in strong arms. Gently, the guy lowers me to the ground. “Slowly, cowboy.”
I hear myself murmur, “Damn…lucky…bandana…”
I see the moon, staring down at me. All pearly white and full. I hope Claire and Everett are seeing this moon. What a beautiful night to kick the bucket , I think.
Then my lights go out.