13
We’d gotten out of town and laid low in a ravine, hiding until I was sure the two men on our tail were circling and couldn’t find us. I stopped at three different rest areas to use a pay phone. Each time was a fail.
No Dig.
Once more, I tapped out my number on the metallic keypad. I waited. And waited. No return call. Through the scratched, cloudy glass of the phone booth, I watched Serena arch her back, adjusting herself on the saddle.
We would head north out of Kansas through Nebraska to South Dakota, a trip that would take roughly five hours. I’d feel better about everything once we got out of Nebraska, but shit, Serena wasn’t looking so good.
She was pale, her thin form curved over the seat. She wore the extra pair of shades I kept on my bike, and they were plenty big on her face, overtaking her delicate features. She was delicate, yeah, but invincible.
Still nothing. No return call.
Where the hell was Dig, goddammit?
I wanted us off the major highways, to lay low, but I also needed access to a goddamn phone. My nerves scraped through my flesh. The Guns could have scouts everywhere.
I abandoned the phone booth. “You sure you don’t want to get up, stretch out?” I asked her.
She only shook her head tightly.
Was she sick? Or maybe they did something to her to match the bruises on her face? I could tell she was uncomfortable with every small move she made, adjusting her ass on the seat, taking in a deep breath as she rolled her shoulders back, flexing her feet, stretching out one leg at a time.
At the next rest stop, I bought us orange juice and a package of small blueberry muffins, which we downed quickly. I made her get up this time, and I wrapped my arm around her, holding her against my body as I again punched the number of the payphone onto the keypad.
No answer.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I slammed the receiver onto the phone.
“Shh, don’t attract attention,” she said into my neck, her cool lips moving against my skin, a hand stroking my back.
“I can’t fucking believe this shit. He promised me. I should’ve made sure before I left. Damn it!”
“Is there anybody else you can call?”
I released my hold on the payphone and caught a glimpse of vulnerability and fear gliding over her face like a quick moving cloud.
I had to keep it together. Yeah, things were not going as planned, or everything was fucking unplanned on my part—my fault—but I had to let it go and focus. I took in a breath. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll try him at another number.”
I dialed the number for the One-Eyed Jacks clubhouse. I’d memorized it a long time ago, like I’d memorized a lot of phone numbers out of necessity.
“Yeah?”
“Is Dig there?”
“Who’s this?” came an amused male voice on the other end of the line.
“I’m a friend of his.”
“Oh yeah? Well, Dig’s not here, friend.”
“I need to contact him. ”
“Who the hell is this?”
My pulse quickened. “This is Finger. Who the hell are you?”
“This is Jump,” he replied. Jump was an officer of the Jacks, their Secretary.
“He’s not answering his beeper. Where is he?”
“Dig’s got a lot of beepers, man.”
“Don’t we all?” I shot back. “I need to talk to him. It’s important.”
“Dig’s away, out of town. He left all his beepers behind, except for one. And only I’ve got that number, and it’s for 911s. Only.”
This asshole.
“He’s expecting my call. You call him for me, then. I don’t give a shit. I just need to hear from him.”
“Ain’t that interesting? No can do. Man’s on his honeymoon. A honeymoon that got delayed since his flash wedding a few weeks ago.”
“Wedding?”
“Sorry, you didn’t get the invite. It was a spur of the moment thing. So no, I ain’t disturbing him for anything or anybody. Man never gets away, and this was a special deal. You got something you want, you can tell me.”
I wasn’t about to tell Jump shit, but I needed help. I was counting on Dig’s fucking safe house. I needed to get Serena safe.
“Dig promised me access to a safe house in South Dakota.”
“Huh. You’re shitting me.”
“I’m not shitting you, and I need access. Now.”
“Oh, now, huh? That ain’t gonna happen. Ever. He had no right to promise you shit, and I’ll deal with him when I see him. I don’t want to know what you got going on, but you aren’t involving the Jacks in any of your shit. Crap between you and every other club on the map is hot, and I ain’t risking my club for any of you.”
“Jump, I need—”
“I don’t give a shit what you need. Can’t help you.”
“Just for a couple of days, then I’ll be gone. I need to lay low for a few—”
“And that is your fucking problem. Why should I take a risk for you? No fucking way. Dig’s been chasing your skirt for a while now, don’t think I haven’t noticed. But it ends here and now, with me.”
Serena pulled at the blood soaked bandana on my arm, and I sucked in air. Was that why nausea was roiling in my gut, and my vision was getting dazed? Yeah, that must be it. Bleeding at the side of the road.
“Got to keep moving,” Serena mouthed silently.
“Fuck you, motherfucker,” I spit into the phone. “I ain’t ever gonna forget this.”
“I already have,” Jump replied.
The line went dead.
I slammed the phone into the cradle and stood there, my skin hot, my eyes burning. Serena’s hand slid up my back.
I wrapped my good arm around her shoulders and pressed my lips against the side of her face. “We’ll keep heading north.”
Even though we were now in my club’s territory, I couldn’t risk being seen by one of my own. I’d get us out of Nebraska and north into South Dakota, into Jacks territory. Jump be damned.
“Just a a few more hours.”
“You don’t have to make it pretty for me.”
“Five hours. Five hours till we cross into South Dakota. Can you hold on till then?”
I hated myself for not having a backup plan. I hated myself for leading her into a black hole of the unknown. I hated myself for not being worthy of her trust.
She nodded, her hand squeezing my bicep tightly. I planted a quick kiss on her forehead, and we got back on my bike.
An hour later, we stopped at a convenience store to get something to munch on, plus I wanted to give her a break. The store was closed, but luckily there were two vending machines to the side. Serena sat on the curb in the sun while I got us cereal bars and sodas.
A guy on a dirty, dented bike with a beanie slouched down over his forehead pulled into the parking lot. Serena stiffened at my side. These small, almost abandoned towns in Nebraska were quiet, but a hotbed of minor criminal activity. She peeked up at him, her face a mask of get-the-fuck-away-from-me.
“Hey, not open?” He gestured at the store, his ratty windbreaker hanging on him.
“No.”
“Shame. You got a smoke? Need one bad.”
“Don’t have any,” I said, handing a cold soda can to Serena who remained still behind me.
“Aw c’mon, man.” He sidled up next to us at the vending machine. “I’m low on cash, ya know?”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah, sucks.” He licked at his bottom lip eyeing his beat up Honda and my Harley. “Nice bike. Haven’t seen you two before.”
“And you won’t be seeing us again.”
“Not from around here, huh? If you two need something stronger than cola, I got it.”
“Not interested.” I said through gritted teeth. “Step back, man.” With a hand on her arm, I guided Serena back to my bike.
“You on a long trip, huh? From Kansas maybe?”
Serena’s breath caught, a small, choking sound. I launched at him, my fist bashing into his side, his back, his face. A glare flashed in my vision. Serena’s yelp punched the hot air.
A blade tore over my chest. “Shit!” The sting leapt through me.
He grunted and slumped in my hold, his body suddenly heavy against mine. I let go, and he crumpled to the ground. Serena stood over us, his knife in her hand.
“Serena—”
“I’m not ever going back. Not ever.”
My hand shot out toward her. “Okay, okay.”
“This is the farthest I’ve ever gotten. And I’ve tried a time or two or three, and paid for it. Not this time. Not now, with you. And I won’t have you punished for trying.”
Her arm shook as she wiped the blood on the guy’s jeans and slid the weapon in her boot. “They’ve been following us. Maybe they pushed us toward here. And if they don’t hear from him—”
A beeper went off as she said the words.
I kicked him over. He wore a dirty faded hoodie under his ratty windbreaker. I unzipped it. No colors. He could be a local contact of theirs, a dealer, a mover.
I crushed the beeper with the heel of my boot and tossed it in the garbage dumpster behind us. I grunted, dragging his body to the dumpster and curling him up into a ball. Just another dealer having a bad day. We took his .380 and two knives. Serena piled cardboard boxes that poked out from the dumpster and put them to the side of the metal structure, hiding his body from view. I went over his bike and pushed it to the back of the store by where he lay.
“Should give us some time.”
“They know where we are.”
“We don’t know that for sure. He could just be some local asshole.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“We gotta keep moving.”
“They know.” Her body shook, her gaze shifting up and down the quiet road. She was exhausted, ravaged by a potent cocktail of hope, anxiety, and adrenaline.
“Serena, you hear me? We gotta keep moving. Don’t quit on me now. We’re close. We’re almost in South Dakota.”
“So what? So what?”
“I’m never gonna let them take you back.”
“So what?” she repeated.
I gripped her jaw, and her blood shot eyes widened. “Listen to me,” I said. “We’re getting back on my bike and leaving.”
“I’m always leaving and never getting anywhere. In my dreams or here, right now, it just doesn’t matter, does it? Look at us. We’re both bleeding, both exhausted.”
“What did they do to you? You’re hurting.” I stretched out a hand to her and she smacked it away, turning her face from me, wiping at her eyes.
I rubbed my hand across my chest and blood stained my skin. I swayed under the heat of the sun. Under the specter of them finding us.
Don’t give up, Serena. Please, don’t give up.