Twenty-Eight
“Damn it!”
I knew better then to put myself in an undefendable situation. Because the cellar only had one way out other than going through the house—which I hoped Aden was not desperate enough to do—I had no way of knowing where Aden was or what he was doing. Stupid move number two was dropping my phone—though I guess that was stupid move number one, since I apparently dropped it before I ran in here.
I heard voices coming from the top of the stairs; my instinct was to go up, but that also put me in a bad position if the person was Aden. Better to stay between the two doors so I had a chance to get away from either exit.
The small window above my head suddenly shattered.
Glass rained down on my hair; I threw up my arms to shield my head. An arm reached through the window, trying to grab me, but I moved quickly out of the way. An old broom handle was laying in the dirt and I snatched it up, swinging it like a bat as hard as I could across the palm dangling through the broken window. He howled with rage and pain, spitting out curses, but the arm withdrew, dripping blood from where it hit the glass when I swung at him.
With the window open, I could hear the rumble of pipes. Bikes were coming. Aden must have heard them too, because the cursing stopped and I heard footsteps moving away from the window.
I ran to the door, undecided about what to do. It could be a ploy to get me to open the door, but it could be the guys from Devil’s Wind looking for me. I had trapped myself in this room; I needed to find out who was out there, friend or foe. Either way, I was a sitting duck where I was. My decision made, I began tugging at the boxes, trying to get them away from the door so I could slip out.
The sound of the bikes was getting louder; they had to be close to the four-way stop where I bailed out on Aden. I needed to get their attention, see if they could help me get out of this nightmare—even if it wasn’t Jameson, I had faith in bikers helping me escape.
The box on top tipped over and I jumped out of the way; an air horn rolled out of the box, along with a triangle, cow bell, and some rubber fingers. I grabbed the air horn and the cow bell as a backup in case the air horn was out of air, sliding the other box out of the way so I could open the door. Looking out, I couldn’t see anything, but the dog started growling again. I ignored him and he shut up. I crept up the steps, scouting around, but didn’t see Aden.
The bikes were passing the light when I set off the horn, ringing the bell with my other hand. The loud blast and clanging almost made me deaf, but it was a godsend—the bike at the end of the line turned my way. I ran for it, waving my hands in the air and yelling.
A car came around the side of the house, fishtailing and slinging gravel in all directions as it headed right towards me. I could never outrun it, but if I could get to the biker I’d at least have a chance.
The biker gunned it, trying to cut the car off before it could get to me. I thought for sure he was going to lay it down. He wrestled with the bike and was able to get control, sliding to a stop a few feet away.
“Get on!” he yelled. I sprinted flat-out, swinging on the back. “Got you, Tish.”
“Thank God, Breech, you found me—it’s Aden!”
“We know, Tish, just hang on tight.” He slammed the bike in gear, and with a twist of the throttle he took off, the tires digging for traction on the loose rock of the driveway. The bike drifted sideways before straightening out. If I hadn’t had Breech around the waist, he would have dumped me. The other bikers were racing in our direction, forming a line between us and the speeding car.
Aden spun the wheel, trying to turn away from the oncoming bikers. He misjudged the turn, and the right side tires teetered on the edge of the asphalt before plunging down into the culvert, smashing into the concrete rain basin at the bottom. Smoke rose from the culvert.
Pulling up to the side where the car went in, Breech stopped the bike. I could smell the noxious odor of gas; the car was a twisted hunk of metal nose down, left side up at the bottom of the hole. Across from us, Jameson and Sonny were slipping and sliding down the steep slope to get to the car.
My feet moved before I realized I was following them over the side. Breech grasped me around the waist. “No, Tish, you can’t go down there.”
“I smell gas, Breech, let me go, I’ve got to help him.”
“Tish, stop it, he knows what he’s doing. Don’t distract him, then he could get hurt.” I stopped struggling at his words, knowing he was right.
Jameson reached the door first, prying it open then dragging Aden out. The next few seconds felt like they were happening in slow motion. I could see Aden raise his Bowie knife to stab Jameson in the chest, aiming for his heart. Sonny was on the other side of the car, checking to see if it was empty; he couldn’t have gotten to him in time.
Breech still had his arms around me; I pulled his gun from the holster at his waist and aimed, firing without thinking. The shot hit Aden in the shoulder but he didn’t drop the knife. Jameson was sliding around in the mud; he couldn’t get a good hold on Aden. I pulled the slide, aimed once more, and fired.
The second shot hit Aden in the head. He went down and didn’t move again.
Jameson looked up to see me standing there holding the gun; he gave a chin lift to Breech, who gently removed the gun from my grasp. “Tish, it’s over. Aden is dead, he can’t ever hurt anyone again,” Breech said softly.
I started shaking, clasping and unclasping my fingers. Breech put his arm around my shoulder.
“Tish, try and relax. It’s okay. This is normal; your reaction is from an adrenaline overload.”
Two strong hands turned me away from Breech into a wide chest. “Jameson, oh my God, Jameson, he was going to kill you. I couldn’t let him kill you.” Flinging my arms around his neck, I hugged him, running my hands over his chest and biceps, just feeling him alive and whole in my arms.
“Shh, it’s okay, babe. You did the right thing, I’m fine.” He kissed my hair, running his hands up and down my back and arms.
I burst into tears, my body shaking. Frantically I let go of Jameson, fell to my hands and knees, and threw up, retching until nothing was left but dry heaves. Jameson held my hair out of the way, soothing my back ‘til I slumped over, totally drained. Jameson’s strong arms went around me and he lifted me, holding me tight to his chest. He whispered in my ear, “I’m so sorry babe… Thank you for saving my life.” He rocked me like a child, murmuring his love over and over.
We could hear sirens coming up the road fast. Dukes dropped to his knee. “Tish, honey, everything will be okay. Let me help you back to the bikes while Fighter and Breech deal with the police.” Taking me from Jameson’s arms, he sat me on the seat of Breech’s bike. “Just tell them what happened, Tish. Aden had a violent history; you didn’t do anything wrong. He kidnapped you and you defended yourself.”
He slipped an arm around my waist and I leaned against him, whispering in his ear, “Sonya ratted us out Dukes; she could have gotten Jameson killed.”
His head jerked up so he was looking me in the eye. “You sure about this, Tish?”
“Absolutely positive, Dukes!”
His lips tightened, but he hugged me close. “Don’t you worry about her now, I’ve got this,” he said.
The first police car pulled up, and two officers stepped out. We watched as they listened to Jameson and Breech explain the situation, then they came to me. “Ma’am, I’m sorry but we will have to place you under arrest until we can sort this out. Would you please stand and put your hands behind your back?”
Dukes stepped forward. “Officer, are cuffs really necessary? She’s not dangerous and she’s willingly complying with your requests.”
“I’m sorry sir, we have to do this by the book, so please step aside while I do my job.” He cuffed me, read me my rights and led me to the police car. Seeing the boys standing outside the patrol car watching me, I tried to smile my lips wobbled but I was able to maintain my composure, The next few hours were a blur.