Chapter Seventeen
Girls Just Wanna Live
Edward had few expectations in life. A hermit for the last several years, he’d been getting most of his information from television. Sort of like when he was still a kid, tinkering in the living room and imagining a better life for himself and his mother. He liked Lifetime movies in particular. Lifetime, unlike Hallmark, showed the gritty reality of life. For instance, three days ago, he’d seen a film about a young gymnast who got caught up in drugs while dating a boy from the wrong side of the tracks. She went missing, so her mother had to go looking for her. The suburban housewife entered the drug den expecting the worst and found it in the form of her dead daughter. Riveting stuff for the first ten minutes. Edward wasn’t sure how the mom went about finding justice because he fell asleep halfway through the two-hour premiere. Still, he remembered the scene at the crack house very clearly. A drug den had a certain vibe.
A burning UFO in the middle of the desert with a bunch of half-naked people dancing around it did not pass the vibe check.
“You sure this is the right place?” he asked.
Rather than use his words, Ape grunted his displeasure. Edward’s jaw went tight. He was beginning to think the guy didn’t like him, though he couldn’t fathom why. He was a goddamn delight.
The smoke trail disappeared against a backdrop of stars, and the fire was so large it warmed him, Ape, and Diesel, even from several yards away. Funny, this was the second arson he’d seen in as many days. Of course Dusty was involved somehow, but he didn’t see her anywhere among the spectators. They’d found the Mustang down the road, so at least she’d made it to Rudy’s. But if so, where the hell was she?
“You can let go now,” Diesel said.
Edward glanced down. Ape was too big to ride with anyone, and Edward was too big to fit into the sidecar attached to his massive bike. In the end, he’d found himself perched on the back of Diesel’s dark blue Harley and spent the entire ride trying to think of less Yaoi-coded ways to clutch another man around the waist.
Spoiler alert: He never found any.
He released the biker, shivering a bit. The scent of melting plastic was heavy in the frigid air. Edward was surprised none of the people outside had passed out from the fumes. Though they were probably on something a lot stronger than micro-plastics if their yelps and euphoric howls were anything to go by.
“Take the druggies on the right,” Ape barked, his expression hard and cold as he dismounted his motorcycle. In just the span of a few minutes, his entire demeanor had shifted from affable overlord to hardened second in command. “I’ll handle the ones on the left. See if any of them have seen her and meet back here in five.”
Diesel nodded, slipped out from in front of Edward, and took off at a jog.
“What about me?” Edward asked.
Ape hesitated, then forced a smile. “Stay and watch the bikes, would ya?” He left before Edward could protest.
Ape had been acting weird ever since the hotel, and Edward wondered what was going on but knew the Goliath wouldn’t tell him even if he asked him outright. Feeling antsy, he yelped when a tug on his sleeve brought his attention around. Heart beating a mile a minute, Edward’s hands came up. He was a badass now, which meant he was ready and willing to fuck up whoever was brave enough to accost him.
A young woman stumbled back in shock, and contrite, Edward surrendered. “Sorry,” his hands shot up, hoping to calm the animal panic in her eyes. “Reflex.” He cleared his throat, hoping he at least sounded confident. “When you live life on the edge like I do, you have to keep your guard up. Know what I mean?”
The woman shook her head, and Edward lowered his arms. She seemed calmer now that he wasn’t on the offensive, but still doubtful. She glanced over at Ape and Diesel stomping toward the fire, and Edward could see the gears turning in her mind as she assessed their threat level. He knew the look all too well. It reminded him of his mother.
Somber, he reached out, bringing her focus back to him. “Are you alright?” he asked, this time, dropping the pretense.
Some of Little Eddie must have bled through because she relaxed enough to speak. “You’re looking for her?” she asked instead of replying. “For Dusty?”
Edward’s breath caught, and he didn’t bother hiding his relief. “You’ve seen her? You know where she is?”
The woman nodded. “The cop took her,” she said. “Put a bunch of us in the back of a truck and loaded her up in the cruiser.” She pointed down the road, dark and empty. “You don’t have much time,” she said, Edward tensed. Without a backward glance, he rushed after Ape and Diesel with a muttered “Thanks,” to mark his departure. There was no telling how much of a lead they had, which meant he and the others needed to move now.
What would a cop want with Dusty? He thought back to the hotel, to the things she’d almost said but left buried instead, and went cold. Panic was a wolf, pacing back and forth in his mind, scratching at an old trailer door, sniffing at the cracks, and looking for a way in. Edward shoved it down, ignoring jaws that snapped and threatened to rend and tear, and stumbled toward the UFO with his lungs struggling to draw a full breath.
There were about a dozen people laid out on the ground, celebrating before the blaze. They weren’t dirty, just entrenched in their own skin. Most of them were under dressed for the frigid weather. There was a carelessness going beyond the dirt and grime. It was something hot water and soap couldn’t wash away. There was a vacancy to the eyes, a listlessness or over excitement to their gestures, or lack thereof, that seemed a silent testament to the hollowness beneath the skin. Whatever hole they wanted to fill was still gaping and hungry. An emptiness so impossible to hide, it was visible even to the naked eye.
Most people hid their cracks and broken pieces beneath the bravado of sheer personality, but the drugs took that away. Those who met his eyes were matchstick men, gazes unsteady, glassy. Broken Golems with eyes like mirrors—as much a reflection of the world outside as the one within. They were contradictory by their very natures. Fragile, breakable things, but somehow untouchable. The world was a predator, hungry for the soft, vulnerable underbelly of the ones who found themselves separated from the herd. While they hadn’t prevented the tooth or the claw from doing its damage, they had managed to place a barrier between themselves and the agony of being ripped to shreds.
They knew the wolf just as well as he did, and finding himself in people so far removed from everything he knew was jarring. It fed the beast, and his hold on the door slipped just a bit. With a gasp, he crouched where he stood, unable to take another step for fear he’d shatter. The firelight played on his skin, and shaking hands dove into his hair, nails scraping his scalp in silent punishment for his weakness. He gritted his teeth, a whimper slipping past as he stemmed the flow of terror.
“I got you,” Dusty said, eyes searching his face. “Remember?”
His head echoed with the throaty sound of her laughter, as endless and dark as those eyes.
One.
“You can call me Adele,” she said. “Adele Burdot.”
There was a rising phoenix winding the length of her upper arm, feathers a watercolor of red and yellow. Flames come to life. Edward had always been too distracted to appreciate it properly.
Two.
“You’re a weird one, Edward Hayes.”
A memory, then, of rushing through the desert. Of trying to escape the wild specter of his father. A figure so large he blocked out the sun, the sky. Then Dusty was there, gripping him by the sides of the face. Her hands cool and callused against his skin. In this memory, dulled by the haze of too many drugs, she was panting for breath. Even now, the memory anchored him.
Three.
“You gotta stop running from me, Pretty Boy,” she said with a laugh. “Because God knows what you’ll do next time if I’m not around to catch you.”
“I don’t have time for this shit,” he gasped, lifting his head. The door slammed shut, and the wolf backed down, dissatisfied but willing to be patient. After all, it’d always gotten its fill before. This time would be no different, but it would have to be later. Dusty was in danger, and he had to get to her, no matter what.
With a start, he glanced up to find Diesel standing just a few feet away, staring at him from beside the blaze. He was unblinking, and so still he seemed carved from the shadows around them. There was a dark, savage thirst twisting his features until he met Edward’s eyes. His expression shifted, softened, but it was already too late. Edward had s een the monster hiding in plain sight. His hands took to their nervous dance, and he fought not to shrink back into himself. Tight and small. Edward was a little boy again, and emotion, unnamed and unwanted, was crippling him. He recognized this feeling. It had come so often in childhood that he was able to shrug into it without thought.
A heavy hand on his shoulder had him seizing with terror, but it was only Ape, his expression tight with dread. “Get to the Mustang,” he ordered. “Drive back to the motel and lock the door.”
“Someone took her,” Edward managed. “A cop.” The woman from before was nowhere to be found. To his relief, she hadn’t taken off with either of the bikes, but he worried for her out on her own.
“Shit.” Ape ran an anxious hand through his hair, loose and flowing around his shoulders. The tattoos on his face cast stark, black lines across his visage. “He must have loaded her up with the others.”
“Others?” Edward frowned.
Diesel joined them, looking just as amiable as always, his red mane in wild disarray.
Edward ignored him, still unsure what to make of what he’d seen or what it meant, if anything. “What others?”
“Rudy’s been running a little business on the side,” Diesel answered, falling in line with Ape and Edward as they walked back the way they’d come. “Most of these people have been missing for months. I recognized a few of them from the flyers posted on the way here.”
Ape’s lips tightened, eyes blazing. “I want his head.”
A ferocious grin of approval from Diesel. “Duh,” he said. “Let’s go get our girl.”
Our girl.
Without realizing what he was doing, Edward’s arm shot out, and he gripped Diesel by the collar of his shirt, jerking him off his feet as he pulled him close. “ My girl,” he snarled in the other man’s face, livid in a way he’d never been before. “Mine.”
“Whoa,” Diesel’s eyes went wide. “calm down, big guy.” The redhead patted the back of Edward’s hand. Even now, something about his expression was off. Was he…laughing? It was almost as if he was enjoying this. Edward’s grip tightened, and Diesel’s flushed red.
“Hey,” Ape’s voice, ripe with concern, cut through the tension. “Chill, Pretty Boy. You’re hurting him.”
Edward flinched, forcing his fingers to uncurl one by one. He took a stumbling step back.
What the hell was that?
Both men stared at him, and Edward scratched compulsively at his wrist—anything to keep his hands busy. “I can help.” Why didn’t anyone believe him when he said that? He’d been screaming it into the void all his life.
“Of course, you can help,” Ape said. “By waiting for us back at the hotel.” Ape spoke as if he were dealing with a child, and Edward wanted nothing more than to lash out like one. The larger man hesitated, then continued softer than before. “Don’t worry. We’ll bring her back.”
“Yeah,” Diesel interjected from a safe distance. “We’ll take good care of Dusty. Don’t you worry.”
Ape was already heading for the bikes, and after a final look, Diesel followed.
Edward found himself wishing he’d squeezed just a little harder. He didn’t know what it was about Diesel that was rubbing him the wrong way all of a sudden. Had he seen something earlier? Or was it all part of his imagination?
Regardless, he hadn’t come all this way not to see Dusty again. With a final glance, he took off for the Mustang at full speed, thrilled when his last-minute decision to slide across the hood didn’t send him flying off the other side and into a ditch. He got into the driver’s seat, praying Dusty had left the keys beneath the floor mat just like all the other times before.
Jackpot.
The Mustang started with a purr, leaping forward as if eager to get back on the road. He punched the gas, shifting the car into gear and gripping the wheel as the world skipped past at breakneck speed. His headlights illuminated the road ahead, and soon he caught sight of the twin motorcycles racing just out of his reach. He pulled up even, met Ape’s gaze through the driver’s window, and gave him the finger as he sailed past. The Mustang, heavier and much more cumbersome than the bikes, had to work to outpace Diesel and Ape, but the souped-up engine managed it.
The highway rocketed past, darkness and stars streaking overhead, enclosing him, until it was just him, the open road, and the Mustang’s engine thrumming in time with his thoughts. The wolf scratched, pacing, and his hands clenched around the wheel.
Dusty.
For some reason, she held the monsters at bay, kept his broken edges from leaving his mind in tatters. So, he would think of only her, hear only her, taste only her until everything else faded, and she was all he had left. The wind tore through his hair with long fingers, and Edward threw his head back and howled, letting the sound carry up, up, and away. A warning to the Gods themselves.
She’s mine
The back of the semi-truck came out of nowhere. Its lights were off as it cruised down the highway, following behind a solitary police car. Edward whipped around the truck and reached across the console to unzip Dusty’s duffel bag with one hand. Grabbing the first thing he found. Dusty had been talkative during their long drive. Explaining with a certain amount of relish how a car of this caliber could hit 155 mph with ease, but thanks to the mods Sally had been working on, their “rental” could go twice that. His thoughts ran, numbers flying as he worked out the math. How far ahead would he need to be? How many seconds would he have? How much distance between…
Fuck it.
Edward paid no heed to the oncoming traffic swerving out of his way, cars spinning out in the dirt on the side of the road as he sped past the cruiser. When he was several hundred yards ahead, he pulled the pin of the grenade with his teeth, down-shifted gears, and whipped the Mustang around in a clean 180. The grenade went flying, and Edward upshifted, hit the gas yet again, and sailed back the way he’d come, the smell of burnt rubber fouling the air. He was working with 0 to 60 in 4.2 seconds and had just five seconds to escape the blast radius.
The countdown started in his head, numbers ticking away, both too fast and yet never fast enough. By the time he reached three, he was already pushing 40 mph, and his pulse was a wild thing trapped in his throat. What if his math was wrong? If he hadn’t gotten far enough ahead of the cruiser and haul truck…
Fuck.
The two cars passed one another, and Edward met the gaze of the man in the front seat.
“I want his head.”
So do I, Edward thought, and there was venom in those words.
He hit 60 mph, and in the next breath, the world exploded around him. The firestorm knocked the wheel out of his hands and lifted the back end of the Mustang into the air. The car crashed down a split second later, and Edward hit the brakes, jerking the wheel to one side. The Mustang came to a halt, and he paused to catch his breath. The cruiser had flipped, while the haul truck was cab first in a ditch, its hood smoking. Up ahead, a line of flames blocked the road, but otherwise nothing moved.
Then the door to the haul truck burst open and a man jumped out. Edward scrambled. He hadn’t thought beyond this point. Which was okay. Really. He could improvise. The duffel bag was still open next to him, and he pulled the AK-47 with its scope from the depths of it, practically singing the hallelujah chorus as he gripped the cold metal. It fit in his hands as if it had been made for him. Getting to his feet in the seat of the car, he stepped onto the passenger’s side door and jumped down onto the pavement, ready to kick ass and take names.
Bradley Star with a license to carry.
Then he tripped on the uneven pavement and hit the ground face-first. The AK-47 went off, sending a spray of bullets arching through the air. The tires exploded one by one on the haul truck, and the driver screamed as a bullet went right through his upper thigh. He dropped his gun and hit the ground, too intent on army crawling beneath the truck to bother returning fire.
“Sorry,” Edward called.
“Fuck off!”
Okay.
New plan. Maybe this time, one without a high-powered assault rifle he had no idea how to use. Maybe he could just take names? Leave the ass-kicking to someone more qualified? An itemized list was more his speed.
Edward climbed to his feet, pushed the gun over into the grass with his shoe, and then ran toward the overturned cruiser. The windows were all busted out, and the man in the front seat was hanging upside down from his seatbelt, the gash on his forehead dripping blood onto the ceiling of the car.
Bypassing him, Edward opened the back door, sucking in a sharp breath when he found Dusty curled up in a ball where she’d fallen. She was handcuffed to the oh-shit bar, and a strip of bloody cloth had been stuffed in her mouth. She was unconscious and covered in cuts and bruises, but alive.
Edward’s knees went weak with relief.
“Hey, Pretty Boy!”
He glanced over, surprised to find Diesel and Ape had arrived. He’d been so focused on stopping the cruiser, he’d forgotten about them. Diesel was busy wrestling the key to the trailer from the driver while Ape stalked over to help Edward.
“We need to get the hell out of here,” Ape said.
Edward pointed to the handcuffs, then turned to brush Dusty’s braids back so he could examine the blood on the side of her face. Ape cursed, then went to the driver’s side and ripped the door open. Reaching inside, he riffled through the cop’s pockets. When no key was forthcoming, he slammed a fist into the side of the unconscious man’s head. Edward wasn’t a fan of gratuitous violence, but in this case, the violence wasn’t gratuitous enough.
The flames were dying down, and on the other side of the inferno was a line of people. In the distance beyond the growing crowd, the flash and dance of fire trucks and ambulance lights could be seen, even past the blinding white of dozens of headlights.
“Ape,” Edward warned.
“Move over,” the other man shoved him out of the way.
Gripping the oh-shit bar in one massive fist, Ape’s muscles bulged as he pulled. Edward was about to lecture him about the sheer force necessary to make what he was attempting possible, but before he could, the bar snapped clean in half. His jaw dropped, but Ape didn’t pay him any mind. Instead, he reached into the car to pull Dusty into his arms. Climbing to his feet, Ape hot-footed it to his bike.
“Go help Diesel.” When Edward didn’t move, Ape met his gaze. “I got her,” he assured him.
Edward nodded, still reeling, and lunged to his feet. He found Diesel at the back of the semi, already removing the lock and a set of chains holding the back shut. Together, the two gripped the door handles, glanced at one another, and pulled.
Edward wasn’t sure what he hoped to find. Nothing would have been nice. Instead, tucked inside were about thirty women and children. They were crying, many of them clutching one another. While there were some White women amongst them, the majority of them were Black, Hispanic, and Native. Some were as young as three, toddlers confused and terrified. The crash had knocked them around, but most of them seemed unharmed. If you didn’t count the bruises and the haunted look in their eyes. Edward didn’t have to guess at what they’d been through. He knew.
The wolf rumbled a warning, and he stumbled back from the truck, almost falling a second time.
“Let’s go,” Diesel grabbed Edward by the arm and pulled him away.
Numb but obedient, Edward followed, jumping back into the Mustang. The people in the back of the truck were pouring out, slowly at first and then faster as safety beckoned. Some of them didn’t move at all, already long dead. There was one body on its side in the middle of the truck. Dressed in a white chemise and little else, she had curly brown hair cut short and wide brown eyes. The lower half of her face was covered in dried vomit, and there was a white band tied tight around her upper arm. No one had bothered to loosen it, and Edward wondered if she’d died before or after they’d thrown her onto the truck.
As he, Ape, and Diesel sped away, those sightless eyes watched him through his rearview mirror. He couldn’t shake the suspicion that if he’d been just a few minutes slower, Dusty would have shared a similar fate, and the knowledge left a bitter taste in his mouth.