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Bought (Ghost Riders MC Book 1) by Brook Wilder (57)


 

 

Elsie let out a frustrated huff of breath as she stared out of her bedroom window. Since her father had brought her back to the ranch, she’d been under lock and key, a prisoner in her own house. Unable to leave. Unable to work with the animals. Unable to do anything. Unable to breathe. Or at least, that’s what it felt like as she paced the length of her room for at least the thousandth time.

 

She felt like she was losing oxygen. With every second that ticked by, the room grew smaller and smaller, more claustrophobic. It was driving her absolutely insane.

 

Her mind kept wandering back to the massive argument she’d gotten into with her daddy after he had brought her home from the police station. None of the officers there would listen to her about Hatchet’s innocence. They hadn’t listened to her at all, not with big, rich Mark McLaurel standing there telling them to lock Hatchet up and throw away the key.

 

So, she’d done the only thing she could think off. Kept her mouth shut, knowing that she wouldn’t do anything good and might in the end make things even harder for Hatchet if she kept pushing her father. But that silence had only lasted until they’d gotten back to the ranch. After that, she hadn’t been able to keep it in anymore.

 

They had both just stomped inside when Elsie rounded on him, throwing question after question at him, demanding answers in a very un-Elsie-like way. She remembered the way his eyebrows had risen in surprise and then quickly lowered in anger.

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Elsie. You’re lucky you didn’t get hurt, or arrested with them, or worse! You have no idea what happens in the real world. He’s in a biker gang, for Christ’s sake. He’s a criminal! You’re still just a little girl. Throwing a temper tantrum at not going to get what you want!”

 

His words had stung, each one cutting deep. But, unlike him, she knew the truth. She had seen the type of man Hatchet was. She knew he was innocent.

 

“No, Daddy, you’re the one who’s wrong! You don’t know what happened. You don’t know how Hatchet saved me! He’s a good man who fell on bad times and pulled himself up the only way he could. It wasn’t his fault, anyways,” she had spat out, not even aware that she had been shouting, something she never would have dared before. “It’s your fault! It’s your fault he’s in this mess. He’s right to hate you!”

 

He’d given her a blank stare, still edged with anger, and all she could do was shake her head, letting out a small, bitter laugh. “You don’t even know, do you? You don’t remember him.”

 

“I don’t know that man, Elsie. I don’t know what the hell he told you, but he’s obviously lying…”

 

“He worked here, at the ranch.”

 

“No, he didn’t,” her father had cut in, shaking his head vehemently, his cheeks red with temper.

 

“Yes, he did. He gave his best years to this country. He fought in Afghanistan and, when he came back home, he couldn’t get work. Finally, he found the one job that he could do, working on the ranch, out in the open. In the quiet. Something to remind him that he was home. And then you forced the owner to sell, bought up the land and, without even a hint of guilt, fired everybody who worked here, except for Lorenzo!” Elsie had taken a deep breath, forcing herself to continue as she met her father’s hard eyed stare, glare for glare. “His whole life was ruined because of you, and you didn’t even know, did you? Do you even care?”

 

Her breath had been heaving in and out as she bit off the last words and it had taken a long moment for her to get her racing pulse back under control. She’d never questioned her father like that before, not about his business, not about the things that had happened before. She’d always chosen not to look too closely at it. But she couldn’t go on blindly ignoring the dirty way her daddy ran his business and the effect it had on other people. Not anymore.

 

His brows had lowered, slashing over his eyes. Elsie had seen a hint of guilt flashing in their depths, but a moment later it had been gone, replaced by unbending pride and a distant anger that she knew all too well.

 

“I had to let those people go, Elsie. This is a business, not some god damned charity. It’s about money,” he had spat out, firing back the only way he could. The bottom line was everything to him. It was always about how much profit he could make, with no regard for anything or anyone else.

 

“Money isn’t the only thing in this world, Daddy!” Elsie had said, trying to get him to understand. But that stubbornness had never left his eyes, nor the stiff line of his shoulders. “It’s not even important.”

 

“Hah!” Her father had snorted out a humorless laugh, hard edged with temper, as he lifted one hand and jabbed a finger in her direction. “That’s easy for you to say. You have no idea. You’ve never had to go hungry a day in your spoiled life! You’ve never had to live in the dark and the cold because your parents couldn’t pay the bills. You’ve never faced threats because they couldn’t pay the debt collectors!”

 

Elsie had jerked back a little in surprise at his words. Her daddy had never talked about his past or his childhood. She’d stopped asking about it a long time ago. As a child, she’d always wanted to know more about him, to find out about the grandparents that he rarely spoke about. In her memories, he always ended up with a scowl on his face and growling something at her to make her leave. Now she knew why.

 

It had clicked for her then, why he’d always been so narrow-mindedly focused on money. He’d grown up in poverty and he never wanted that for her. At the realization, a part of her anger had melted away, but not the part that had still been glowing red hot on Hatchet’s behalf. An innocent man sat in a prison cell right now and her father hadn’t even blinked an eye.

 

“Look, I get it,” Elsie had started, but her daddy hadn’t given her a chance to finish.

 

“No, you don’t! And you’re deluding yourself if you think this bastard is worth your time, because he sure as hell isn’t worth mine.”

 

“But, Daddy, you don’t understand…”

 

He’d cut her off again, this time with a sharp, slashing gesture of his hand and a hard look on his face that could have chipped stone. “I understand perfectly,” he had growled. “I forbid you to ever see that man again or even mention his name. Do you understand? Just forget about him, Elsie. And get out of my sight. I can’t stand to look at you right now.”

 

Elsie had stood there in angry shock for a moment, her mouth opening and closing. But there hadn’t been anything else left to say. Her father had turned around without another word, stomped into the study he used as his home office and slammed the door hard behind him. She had reluctantly trudged up the stairs to her bedroom, where she’d been quarantined ever since.

 

“Uh, hello? Earth to Elsie. You still there?” Rachael’s impatient voice reached her, breaking into her thoughts and bringing her back to the conversation at hand.

 

Elsie shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts as best as she could, and replied. “Yeah, Rae, I’m still here. Sorry, I was just thinking about what happened with my dad.”

 

“So unfair,” her friend interjected, and Elsie nearly smiled. Rachael was always quick to back her up, even when she didn’t necessarily deserve it.

 

“Well, fair or not, I’m stuck here,” Elsie said in a frustrated huff as she threw herself into the old armchair propped in the corner of her room. “And since you’re where I really want to be…”

 

“Right, like anyone really wants to be at this rundown old police station,” Rachael replied with a bark of laughter.

 

“You know what I mean.” Elsie barely held back her eye-roll. She went quiet for a moment, biting her lip, before she asked quietly: “How is he?”

 

“Well…” Rachael started, drawing out the word.

 

“Damn it, Rae. Just tell me!” The words burst from Elsie’s mouth before she even realized she was speaking, and the momentary silence from the other side was sign enough of Rachael’s surprise.

 

“Damn girl, you really have changed.”

 

“I’m sorry, Rae, I didn’t mean to yell…”

 

“Hell no!” her friend said, stopping her before she could finish her apology. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. You’ve changed, and it’s a good thing. He’s taught you to stand up for yourself.”

 

“I… Yeah, I suppose he has.”

 

“There ain’t no 'suppose' about it, Els. Before biker man, you never would have snapped at me like that. Even when I deserved it. Which was often.” Rachael paused only to take a breath before continuing. “Now, speaking of your biker man, Hatchet seems okay. I was only able to get in to see him once and he was just sort of… staring.”

 

“What do you mean, ‘sort of staring’?” Elsie asked, chewing on her fingernails as she thought of Hatchet and all the trouble he was in now. The fact that he wouldn’t be locked up if it hadn’t been for her wasn’t lost on her, and it made the uncomfortable churning feeling in her gut churn even faster.

 

“He was just sort of… staring.” She could practically hear Rachael’s shrug over the cellphone. “I don’t know, Elsie. How would you feel if you were trapped in a little cell like that?”

 

Elsie looked around her bedroom—her own temporary prison—and could practically feel the walls closing in on her.

 

“Oh, trust me. I can imagine,” she whispered.

 

“Hey… um… what about… uh… what about that other guy?” Rachael asked, far too casually for Elsie’s peace of mind.

 

“You mean Jackrabbit?”

 

“Yeah, Jackrabbit.”

 

“Well, what about him?” Elsie asked absently, chewing on her fingernail once more as she pictured Hatchet locked away in the tiny cell.

 

“I just want to know about him,” Rachael answered, “Just… in general.”

 

“Rae, in general, I don’t know anything about him. I saw him a few times, but we didn’t really get a chance to talk, you know?” Elsie sighed, thinking back to all that had happened since she’d stumbled on Hatchet and them all ending up at the police station. It was hard to believe it had been less than two days. So much had changed. She had changed.

 

“But I can tell you that he helped Hatchet save me,” Elsie added softly. She’d already filled her best friend in on the real truth of what had happened between her and Hatchet. She had said the whole thing had been terribly exciting and Rachael had actually sounded jealous as she’d said it. Jealous! Of being kidnapped and threatened with the prospect of being sold!

 

“He did?” Rachael asked, still trying her best to sound uninterested even though she was practically jumping at the chance to ask.

 

“Yeah, he gave Hatchet the key to the warehouse to break me out and stalled Mad Dog. I think… I think he might actually be a good guy, Rae.”

 

“Oh,” her friend said after a moment. “How disappointing.”

 

“Rachael!”

 

“What? I was hoping you would say something more along the lines of he’s a badass trouble-maker who’s had more hot girls than hot meals. You know... something like that.”

 

“So sorry to disappoint.” Elsie said, this time with a roll of her sapphire eyes at her friend’s antics. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure he’s all of those things too.”

 

“Actually, it does make me feel better. Mmm, Jackrabbit…” Rachael practically purred the man’s name, and Elsie could hear the unmistakable tone in her friend’s voice that always meant trouble.

 

“Rachael, whatever you’re thinking about, you just put it out of your head right now.”

 

“Uh huh, sure, Elsie. Whatever you say.”

 

“I mean it, Rae. I’m serious. Whatever they’re doing over at the clubhouse is no good for you. You’re the sheriff’s daughter, for crying out loud!”

 

“Perfect cover, right? No way would my daddy ever lock me away.”

 

“Listen, I’m just trying to help you out…” Elsie paused, cutting off mid-warning as the jingling ring of a cell phone reached her ears. Confused, she looked at the phone in her hand, but that wasn’t the source of the sound. Slowly, she raised the cell to her ear again, looking around her room as she spoke. “Hey, Rachael, I got to go.”

 

“Why? Wait a minute. Did something happen? What’s going on?”

 

“I’ll call you later, Rae. Bye!” Before Rachael could fire off any more questions, Elsie had hung up, still searching for the source of the high-pitched ring.

 

Elsie looked for a minute, tearing through her desk and the sheets on her bed, before the sound finally led her to her closet. She pulled open the doors and the sound grew louder. She kneeled to pull out a small, silver cell phone that continued to ring shrilly in her hand. The phone had been in the pocket of the clothes she’d been wearing the day they’d all been taken to the police station. Hatchet’s clothes. And Hatchet’s phone, too! She had completely forgotten about it.

 

With trembling fingers, Elsie pushed the button to answer the call and held it to her ear.

 

“H–Hello?” She said softly,

 

She nearly collapsed in relief as a deep, familiar voice came on the other side of the line. “Hey Elsie, it’s Hatchet. I need to tell you something and I need you to listen.”

 

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