Chapter Fourteen

 

Dusk had fallen when the group finally made it back to the clubhouse. Blood, Sandman, and Bam-Bam were slow getting off their bikes. Undertaker and the rest of the club were waiting for them.

Blood straightened, his hand holding his side.

Undertaker stepped over. “You okay?”

“I’m fucking fine.” He hobbled past him, wanting nothing more than to collapse into bed.

“Got some bad news.”

“Jesus Christ, what now?”

“Cat’s gone. I was just about to send someone to look for her.”

That brought Blood up short. “What do you mean she’s gone? Gone where?”

Undertaker shrugged. “We’ve searched the property. She’s gone. I’m guessing she’s on her way to the police.”

“Goddamn it. How the hell did she get out? There are guards on the gate. Did the fucking Prospects fall asleep on the job? Where are they? I’ll kill them.”

“Calm the fuck down. She didn’t go out the gate. In our search we found a couple of crates stacked up near the dumpsters. Guys found tennis shoe prints on the ground on the other side of the stockade.

Blood limped back toward his bike.

“Where the fuck you think you’re going?”

“I’m going after her.”

“No, you’re not.”

“She’s my responsibility. I’m going.”

Undertaker huffed out a breath, seeing it was pointless to argue. “Fine. Take one of the boys.”

“So-Cal!” Blood barked. “Let’s go.”

The man, whose nickname stemmed from the fact that he’d transferred from one of the club’s Southern California chapters, stepped up.

Undertaker put a hand in So-Cal’s chest, halting him. “Mud said the tracks led to the left.”

“The left? The road heads through the swamplands in that direction. Why the fuck would she go that way?”

Blood snapped back sarcastically, “Let’s find her and ask her.”

“Better hurry before the gators make a meal out of her,” Undertaker suggested with a grin.

Blood glared at him as he threw his leg over the seat.

They both fired up their bikes and headed out.

 

***

 

Cat stumbled down the road. She hadn’t seen a car pass since she’d left the clubhouse. There was nothing in the direction she’d gone. Just trees as far as she could see. A few feet to the right she could make out the reflection of the bayou. She trudged on, slapping at mosquitoes. Dusk had fallen, and the pests had come out in full force to feast on her. And that’s not all she was afraid could be out looking for an evening meal. With every sound she glanced around, terrified an alligator would come out from the water.

She was really rethinking her decision to leave the compound. And where the hell did this road lead anyway? Nowhere? She’d been too afraid to go in the direction the bikes had left, thinking maybe she’d run into them returning.

A sudden noise in the trees made her jump. She looked up to see a large white egret lift from the upper branches and take flight; its snowy wings spread three feet across as it flapped away.

She kept walking. A few minutes later, she saw a large shadowy shape stretched across the highway about twenty yards ahead. It stopped her in her tracks. Oh, crap! If that was an alligator, could she outrun it?

She backed up a step, not taking her eyes off it. It moved, and as she watched, she realized it wasn’t a gator, but a huge greenish-black snake. Probably one of those Anacondas she’d heard had become such a problem with idiots releasing them into the swamps. Good God, the thing had to be fifteen feet.

As she watched, it slithered slowly into the brush on the other side of the road. Still, she waited, not sure she wanted to pass the spot just yet.

As she stood there contemplating returning to the clubhouse, she heard the distant unmistakable rumble of motorcycles. She looked back the way she’d come and saw two tiny headlights in the distance. As she stood waiting, they quickly grew closer and louder. A moment later they were upon her.

Blood rolled up next to her, parked, and dismounted. She was never so happy to see anyone in her life… but he didn’t look happy at all.

“You’re a fucking handful. Just how far did you think you’d get? And where the fuck did you think you were going? This road leads nowhere you want to go!”

He studied her, and she could tell he wasn’t sure what to make of her. A man trying to figure out the female mind—she’d seen that look before. Like they were trying to understand a foreign language, a puzzle, a map they couldn’t read. They knew there was something important, but they just couldn’t figure it out.

“Babe, you want something, you need something, spell it out. Tell me. No shit, just fucking tell me. I don’t have time to try to figure out the female mind. I’ll fuck it up every time.”

She rubbed the sides of her upper arms. “I’m going to the police.”

“Well, it ain’t this way. The only place you’re going is back to the clubhouse.” He made to grab her arm, but she yanked back.

“No! I’m going to find my sister. I’m not waiting around that damn compound any longer!”

He yanked her to him. “You’re a real fighter, you are. I’m trying to help you.”

“No you’re not!”

“You have to trust me, Cat.”

“How am I supposed to trust you? You’re only concerned with getting revenge on the Death Heads. You eat, sleep, and breathe it.”

“You’re right. Revenge is the reason I get up each day. But don’t fool yourself, darlin’. The police can’t find your sister, and when the Death Heads find out you went to the police, they’ll hunt you down.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Blood shoved her away. “Fine. You wanna run, then run. But if you do, you better keep on runnin’. Change your name, cut your pretty hair off, and go into hiding. And just maybe you’ll be safe. ‘Cause I’ll tell you one thing, the police can’t protect you from the Death Heads MC. They’ll come lookin’ for you. And God help you when they find you.”

“I don’t care,” she said petulantly, turning away.

He yanked her around. “You damn well should care!”

She shoved him away. “You’re exaggerating just to…to scare me.”

“Really? So you’re an authority on the Death Heads now?”

“I know you’re just like them.”

He grabbed her upper arm and yanked her to him, fury written all over his face. “I’m nothing like them, Cat, and if you haven’t figured that out by now I don’t know why I’m here wasting my time.” He shoved her away again.

They glared at each other.

“You’re not really gonna leave her out here, are you?” So-Cal asked, glancing around the darkening woods.

Blood looked back at him a second, before capturing Cat’s eyes with his. “Thinkin’ about it.”

Her chin came up.

There was a tick in his jaw, and then he finally growled, “Come back and promise me you’ll stay put.”

Cat bit back, “Promise me you’ll find my sister.”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“But you haven’t, have you?”

“Goddamn it, woman!” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration, and stepped away before spinning back to her. “Don’t you get it? I find the Death Heads, I find your sister!”

She was stunned by his words and stood, considering the truth in them. Maybe he wasn’t just out for his own benefit, maybe he really was doing it for her. Her chin came up again, and she murmured, “I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry.”

Blood shook his head and looked away. When his eyes met hers again, he huffed out, “Just what does it take to earn your trust?” He turned and moved toward his bike like he was giving up, like he was planning to leave her, and she panicked.

“Blood.” Her soft voice stopped him, and he turned back. Her eyes glazed over with tears as she whispered shakily, “I don’t know what to do.”

Blood stared into her eyes a long moment. “Come here.”

She moved toward him, and when she was within arm’s length, he reached out and pulled her to him. She was enveloped in the smell of leather and motor oil and his own special scent, calming her somehow and reassuring her in some odd way she didn’t want to examine too closely.

His head dipped, and he spoke into the hair at the top of her head.

“You need to fall in line. I know you’re scared, babe, but I’ve got enough shit on my plate without having to worry about you, too.”

She clung to him, needing his strength. She didn’t know how much longer she could bear the weight of fear and worry all alone. She wanted so badly to share the burden, if only for a little while, and have someone tell her it was all going to be okay. A moment later, he tilted her head up, holding her face in his hands.

“Look at me.” His voice was low and certain, and as he looked deep in her eyes, she felt compelled to believe whatever he told her. “All you gotta do is trust me.”

If only it were that simple, she thought. But she had to take the chance, so she nodded, giving him the answer he wanted.

He studied her a long moment before releasing her.

They climbed on his bike, and she pressed against his back, holding him tight, hoping she was right to put her faith in him.

 

***

 

When they got back to the clubhouse and climbed off the bike, Cat looked at how stiff and slow-moving Blood was.

She frowned. “Are you in pain?”

“Had a building fall on him,” So-Cal put in and saw the glare that Blood gave him. Cat didn’t miss it either. Her mouth dropped open.

“A building fell on you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. I need to look at your wound. It could be bleeding.”

“I said I’m fine.”

Her hands landed on her hips. “Don’t give me the attitude. The packing needs to be changed anyway. Come on.” She pivoted and headed inside.

Blood’s brows shot up. “Attitude? Look who’s talking about throwing attitude?”

So-Cal chuckled until Blood turned and gave him a death stare.

A few minutes later, Blood was sitting shirtless on the side of his bed, Cat peeling off his bandages.

She glanced around. “This is your room?”

“When I’m here, yeah.” His eyes watched her, waiting for her to lift her baby blues from her task and meet his gaze. When she did, he looked into those expressive eyes he was quickly finding so easy to lose himself in. “The bed’s real soft if you want to try it out.”

He got the corner of her mouth to turn up as she fought a smile.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Cat. Why aren’t you married? I’m sure at least one idiot has tried.” She chose that moment to yank the bandage off, hard, and he winced, groaning, “Oh, right. That.”

“Ha ha. Very funny. You’re a real comedian.”

“I have my moments.”

“This would be easier if you were on your back.”

He grinned as he complied with the request. “A woman’s never had to tell me that twice.”

She rolled her eyes. “Thank you.”

“I aim to please.”

She changed out the packing.

“Cat.”

His quiet voice had her lifting her gaze.

“Why’d you leave?”

She dropped her eyes back to her task, one shoulder shrugging. “I needed you, and you weren’t here. I started to worry about my sister, and the anxiety took over.”

“Sorry. I know you’re worried. I should have called you. I meant to call you, but, ah…”

“Save it. I’ve heard that whole trapped-under-a-building excuse before.”

He started to chuckle, but the pain caused him to suck in a harsh breath. “I’d laugh, only it hurts too much.”

 

***

 

After she’d finished tending to Blood, Cat stood back. “Surprisingly, you didn’t do any damage. It’s healing nicely.”

“Great.” He sat up.

“I notice you have a few new bruises, though.”

“Comes with the job.”

“Is that all the explanation I get?”

“Yep. Club business is club business.”

“How’s the pain?”

“Tolerable.”

“You’re not eating pain pills like candy, are you?”

He slid off the mattress to stand, slipping his arms into a new denim shirt. “Now would I do a thing like that?”

“Uh, yes.”

He stared at her as he buttoned up the shirt, noticing her gaze followed his movements. He darted a look to the bed. “You sure you don’t want to take me up on my offer?”

She rolled her eyes again and moved toward the door. “Honestly, is that all you men think about?”

He chuckled as he followed after her. “Mostly.”

 

***

 

Late that night, while Cat slept in her room, Blood sat at the bar in the clubhouse. The light of the neon bar signs on the wall reflected through the glass in front of him, turning the whiskey a glowing amber. Undertaker walked up and took the stool beside him. Blood leaned over the bar, grabbed a second glass, and poured his President two fingers from the bottle in front of him.

“Thanks.” Undertaker picked it up and took a sip.

“So where do we find the asshole who gave you that great tip today?”

Undertaker lit up a cigarette and dropped the lighter on the bar. He blew the smoke toward the ceiling. “That’ll be handled tomorrow.”

“Damn right it will,” Blood guaranteed vehemently.

“Mooch is handling it.”

“My crew is in on it. That’s our fucking payback.”

“Thought you wanted to concentrate on the Death Heads.”

“Apparently, it’s all tied together. Girl at the shed said bikers made them switch from making the meth to building bombs. Had to be them.”

“Yeah, but you’re not going to find them at this guy’s house.”

“You never know. We might get lucky.”

“Lady Luck doesn’t seem to like you very much lately,” Undertaker observed with a grin.

Blood stared him straight in the eyes. “Well, that’s about to change.”

Undertaker nodded. “Maybe so. That all that’s got you stewing tonight?”

Blood turned back to his drink, downing it with one gulp. “What do you mean?”

“Nurse Hotty.”

“What about her?”

“I suppose you think she proved your theory right today, with that stunt.”

Blood looked over at him and cocked a brow. “My theory?”

“That women can’t be trusted. That they all run out on you.”

Blood looked back at the mirror behind the bar. “Don’t they? Ain’t found one yet to prove me wrong.”

Undertaker chuckled. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Way to take a position.”

“I’m just saying the world isn’t always black and white. Sometimes it’s a thousand shades of gray.”

“Cryptic as usual, Undertaker. I can always count on you to philosophize. But when I want pointless conversation, I’ll let you know.”

Undertaker smiled and poured himself another shot. “I was hoping this one was different. I think you were, too.”

“I don’t give a shit one way or another. She’s nothing more to me than a debt I owe.”

Undertaker held the bottle over Blood’s glass and refilled it with a grin. “Right, Blood. Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

Blood downed the drink, a tick in his jaw.

“Just do me a favor.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“We got a shitload of trouble goin’ on now. I need you focused. Don’t let that little damsel-in-distress get in your way.”