I drive into the dark parking lot and cut the minivan engine.

Angel puts her hand on the door handle. “I’ll get us a room,” she huffs, only looking at me for a split second.

“No. You stay with the van. Do you mind telling me why you’re upset this time?”

She glares at me. “We haven’t stopped for eight hours, and dammit, I know we’ve been driving in a weird circular pattern for at least six of those. On what part of the planet is that kind of bladder control expectation okay?”

“It’s called staying off the main roads, honey. And you could have peed behind those bushes.”

“Yeah, right. Look, it’s easier if I stand and wait,” she announces. She jumps out of the minivan and storms off to wait on the pavement.

“You should know how sexy you look when you’re ticked off,” I tease, eyes trained on her ass, already picturing what I imagine will be some more scorching hot nights on the road with her.

Getting out, I head over to the motel registration desk. This isn’t any old place. Well yes, it’s another shithole, but I picked this particular shithole for a reason. After I pay and get my keys, I step around back and pull out my phone. It’s time to check in with Silas and determine what this new development with the Los Diablos means. Silas probably has no idea I’ve gone this far. I have to wonder whether the Los Diablos’ Arizona Chapter President, Antonio Vasquez, is in the dark too. I roll my shoulders, absently listening to the ring over the end of the line.

“Yo, brother,” Silas answers. “What’s going down? No one’s heard from you all day.”

“I ran into some more trouble. Before I get into it, let me ask, has anything changed for our deal with Antonio Vasquez?”

“Changed how?”

I give Silas the update on the note slipped under the door, and on my suspicion that we’re still being followed.

“Motherfucker,” Silas shouts. “I thought we were done with this bullshit. Are you sure it was Antonio’s people?”

“The pricks who attacked us at the library were Los Diablos for sure, but you’re right that I didn’t recognize any of them. Fuck, I should’ve checked the plates.”

“I did.” Angel probably saw me come around to the side of the building. She stands there with her arms folded. “What?” she asks defensively. “I need to go. Stat. So what if I followed you?”

I shake my head. “You were supposed to stay with the car. Just tell me what you saw.”

“Well, I noticed the plates, and I think I remember the first few letters and numbers. I would have had the entire thing on my phone if you didn’t smash my sim card,” she grumbles.

“Hang on, Si,” I say, motioning to Angel. “Did you notice whether it was Nevada or Arizona plates?”

“Neither,” she discloses. “But if I tell you which state it was, can we stay somewhere nicer?”

“Not a chance. Tell me what state,” I order.

Angel scowls, scrunching up her nose at me. “It was Louisiana, all right?” she answers, sticking her hand out. “Now, give me that room key before I have an accident.”

“Did you get that, Si?” I speak into the phone again, distractedly placing the key in Angel’s hand. I slowly head back to the vehicle.

“Got it. It doesn’t sound like Antonio’s people.”

“True,” I agree. “But who? The only connection to Louisiana is Molly’s old boyfriend, I think,” I suggest about Molly Davenport, Tate’s old lady. “But that dude had nothing to do with the Los Diablos.”

“There may be more to it than that. Cindy mentioned that Molly’s family lived out there when her father was killed.”

“I remember. Tate and I were there when your mom told us about it too. Mr. Davenport was sniffing around for info. What I don’t understand is why they would want anything from me.”

“Who knows,” Silas mutters.

“But they fucked up by trying to use Angel to get to me.”

“Yeah. I’ll get Dean on it, and while he’s checking it out, I’ll have a talk with Antonio.”

“Sounds good.”

“What about you? Are you okay?”

I croak out a laugh. “Me against a few shitty Los Diablos? Hell yeah, I’m all right.”

“Good. Where are you?”

“That place.”

“Hang on. Did you say what I think you just said?”

“I did.”

“Crap. Do you need us to take care of anything while you’re going AWOL with your old lady-to-be?” Silas keeps up the goading. “I figured it had to be some real good pussy to make you ignore everything else going on here, especially that security clearance.”

“Yeah well, keep your mind on your old lady’s parts, not on Angel’s,” I grumble, ignoring the fucking clearance crap. “I think I’ve got everything covered. Any other updates?”

“No. I’ll keep you posted as soon as I have answers. Be sure to check in with us every couple of days, as usual.”

“Will do. Hey Prez, hang on a second. Do you hear that?” I ask.

“Hear what?”

There’s a distinct clicking sound in the background. It’s intermittent, but my gut doesn’t like it. If someone’s listening in on our call, we’re fucked.

“Si?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell VV to hang on ten,” I say, stressing each word carefully. “Did you get that?”

“Got it. Godspeed, brother.”

I hang up and turn to face Angel again. She must have gone inside and used the bathroom, because she’s a lot less jittery now than a few minutes ago. Shoving my phone into my pocket, I go to greet the problem head on.

“Hey, what’s going on?” she asks. “You don’t look too thrilled—”

“Get inside. Right now,” I say firmly, releasing a threatening raspy groan from the back of my throat so she will not dare to question me now.

She doesn’t say a word.

I hurry with her across the parking lot, and quickly grab our bags out of the back seat of the van. Returning to our room, I get inside and shut the door behind me. I take the hotel room key and examine it in my hand, looking back and forth from the key to Angel. She’s not ready for what’s about to happen. I drag her bag off my shoulder and step in front of her again.

“It smells like mold and orange juice in here,” Angel says, scanning the dump, which is worse than the last place. She scrunches up her nose and gives me a sour look. “Maybe we should find somewhere else.”

That’s when I hold her arm and spin her around to face me.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she shouts. “I was going to take a goddamned shower!”

“You’ll do that, all right. You know why?”

“You’re kind of hurting me right now, Axe. But fine, tell me why.”

“Because my house, my rules. Understand?”

Her lips tremble as recognition hits that I’m not fucking around right now. Excellent. It means I can give her precise instructions, and she won’t give me any lip.

“You’re going to get into that shower and turn on the water.” I show her the small bag in my hand. “Don’t lock the bathroom door. Take off every piece of clothes you have on, and put on these clothes when you get in there. After that, you’re going to stay inside the bathroom and wait for me. Do you understand? And not another word.”

She nods and begins to do exactly what I say. Once the shower is on, I step inside. She’s already naked. I place a finger to my mouth, signaling to her to stop her from speaking, and I point at the bag again. It has a simple t-shirt and boxer-styled shorts with a drawstring in the waist. Instead of letting her go into the shower, I make her put it on, and throw my phone into the shower stall, submerging it in water. We head to the back door of the room and exit, leaving every item Angel packed at her place, as well as her purse from the library. Even that piece of shit minivan is staying behind for the rest of this little trip.

One of the Satan’s Saints trucks is out back, exactly where we left it for exactly these types of emergencies. With a hand on her shoulder, I lead her to the passenger side and help her in. Getting into the driver seat, I start the truck and drive off, taking a gravel side road as opposed to getting back on the main road.

“You can speak now,” I inform an angry Angel. “Sorry I had to get a little firm back there.”

“That was not a little firm!”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Uh. No. You left everything I own back there!”

“It was for your own safety.”

She snaps on her seatbelt and folds her arms over her breasts. “You realize I’m not even wearing a bra or panties, right? And turn off the damned A/C. Will you at least tell me what happened back there?”

“My friend’s phone was bugged. Possibly mine too. I couldn’t take any chances that they did the same thing to something of yours. Maybe your backpack or purse. But it doesn’t matter. The point is we’re being followed. I did what I had to do to ditch the fuckers. Got it?”

She glances over at me, glowering. “Thank God I brought flip flops.”

I screech the truck to a halt and tug those slippers off her feet, throwing them out my driver side window. “Sorry. Can’t risk it,” I tell her, starting the car again.

“How do you know your stuff isn’t bugged?” she asks.

“I just know.”

We aren’t half a mile up the street when bullets start flying past the truck. Angel flinches and ducks low in the seat.

“What the hell is happening?” she shrieks.

I lower my head close to the steering wheel and check my side mirror. Two dark Camaros and six choppers follow. I’ve been expecting them to close in long before this, so this surprise attack is more of a snag, and less than surprising. The Los Diablos are sure to have set up a little hiccup.

“Get down, hold onto the dash, and stay down!” I shout, yanking the wheel in the opposite direction to avoid getting shot directly on our gas tank.

The next one goes wide. There’s only that whizzing sound. I zig-zag to stay ahead of them. This road has no exits for at least a few miles, so we need to hang tight and outlast the fuckers.

“I thought we left the bike behind and took that minivan to get them off our ass! Now we have a truck?” Angel cries out from her position, lowering to the floor between the seat and the console.

“I’m kind of a hard son of a bitch to miss when you’ve got people looking. And we’re still getting them off our ass, so keep it down and let me focus!”

Angel gasps as I throw my foot into the brake and abruptly turn the truck, driving off the road and down a two-foot drop of a natural arroyo. Three choppers and one Camaro jump the gap, but the other vehicles playing target practice with my ass aren’t careful enough. They dive right in. No way will those front axles survive that ditch.

Four down, four to go.

Still, the chances of getting past four pursuers are slim, particularly since I haven’t had the chance to reach the supply of weapons behind my driver seat.

“Their aim sucks,” Angel says out of the blue.

“You’re complaining?”

“No. I’m just saying. This is why I don’t ever skip out on solid time on the shooting range.”

“You know your way around a loaded weapon?”

She rolls her eyes. “Please. I can shoot with the best of them.”

“Good. That’ll come in handy,” I tell her and floor it, navigating the vehicle through the desert brush.

We can’t keep up this pursuit for long. That reality hits home quite literally at the sound and debris caused by a bullet hitting and shattering the driver side mirror. When I notice a three-meter wide arroyo with at least a fifteen-foot drop coming into view alongside the path we’re on, I know what needs to be done.

“Time to make our exit,” I inform her. “Let’s see if this piece of American engineering can fly, or at least hold up against the sudden drop. Hold on. This will be a little bumpy.”

“I’ll tighten my seatbelt too,” she says.

“No. Get down on the floor. And cover your head.”

Swerving the car, I speed up as fast as the truck will go, kicking up a ton more dust as I haul ass over the embankment. My head hits the ceiling as the vehicle crashes down on the other side. It swerves, almost making a full three hundred and sixty-degree skid before it stops.

Angel lifts her head slightly, checking the back window once I right the truck. “Uh, the Camaro and two of the bikes stopped before the jump,” she says. “Wait. It looks like one of the bikes just doubled back to try again. He may have a good chance of making it over.”

“Jesus. Can we not catch a goddamned break?”

“Wait,” Angel says. “He’s down. I don’t see him coming back up. Woot! He bit the dust!”

“Nice.”

Angel slides back into the seat and redoes her seatbelt. She fiddles with the radio knobs, searching for a clear station, and stops on a classic country western station. “This will have to do. I see you don’t have XM radio.”

“If we did, the gunfire would have probably gotten it good.”

“Hmmm. So where are we going now?”

“Somewhere safe.”

“You can’t shut me out forever, you know,” she tells me, swatting my hand away when I try to change the music to something more rock-friendly. “We’ll get there soon enough, and I’ll know.”

“True.”

“Wait a minute. What about my mother?” Angel asks in a panic.

“What about her?”

“I need to call her.”

“Not now.”

“What if she’s in danger?” she persists.

“Your phone call can put her in danger. Just relax. I’ll make sure no one gets to her. Make yourself comfortable over there. We’ll be driving for a while.”

Glaring at me like I’m the enemy, she huffs out a long exhale and rests her head on the seat back. “I am so not sleeping with you, ever again.”

“Suit yourself, Angel.”

Sex is the last thing on my mind at the moment, although the image of actually sleeping beside her makes my chest tighten. I may have fucked a shit ton of women, but I sure as fuck didn’t sleep with them. Yet where we’re heading, that’s sure to happen eventually.

Except, for the next little while, it’ll be on my terms, and it’s Angel who’ll have to grin and bear it.