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  • Rise to Power (Motorcycle Club Romance) (Dead Men Motorcycle Club) Page 6

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Page 6


  Ripper dragged me towards the cabin and I stumbled along behind him, doing my best to not fall to my knees. Some shred of dignity remained to me and I didn’t want them to see me fall. To think back on it now, “fallen” is the only word I could use to describe my situation. The irony isn’t lost on me, but at the time, standing up was the only line between sanity and complete mental collapse.

  Ripper pulled me into the cabin. The inside didn’t look any better than the outside. A few broken down old chairs and couches were scattered around, and a makeshift kitchen had been set up in one corner. Everything smelled of mildew and rot. If the whole place collapsed on us, I wouldn’t have been a bit surprised. I was thrown down onto one of the couches and recoiled instantly from the damp, lumpy feel of the thing. I turned over to find some semblance of comfort in my situation and stared back at him through a sheet of tears.

  Ripper regarded me for only a moment before leaving the cabin in silence. There were no lights inside – only the glow of headlights beaming through the windows. With no more energy left to cry, I did the only thing I could think of. I closed my eyes and tried to shut out the world.

  Time passed, though I couldn’t tell you how much. Maybe I fell asleep and maybe I didn’t. My head was throbbing and it was hard to concentrate on anything more than the couch beneath me and the pain that was wracking my body. I thought I was going to die in that place. By the time the cabin door opened again, all doubts about my fate had fled from my mind.

  It was Gina who stepped inside. She closed the door behind her and stepped towards the couch with a sour expression on her face.

  “They’re burying that girl,” she said.

  “Her name was Janie,” I spit back at her, determined to not let her forget what she had been a part of.

  “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” she said, turning her eyes away from me. “Ripper said we were just going to take you, but she was there and they grabbed the both of you. It was an accident.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I told her, shaking my head. “When Martin and the others find you – and they will – they’re not going to give a shit about whether it was an accident. Fuck, Gina, you’re going to have all of Oakland coming down on you. How the hell do you think you’re going to get out of this?”

  I was spitting mad, and preparing myself to get hit again. Gina had a temper just as bad as Jarhead’s, even if she didn’t have the same strength in her arm to back it up. I didn’t care, though. I couldn’t fight back with my hands so I had to use my words. That was the only thing they’d left me.

  I couldn’t have been any more surprised than when she sat down beside me on the couch and put her face in her hands. She was crying. I had never seen Gina cry in all the years I’d been with the Dead Men. She was the constant pillar of strength and stubborn wisdom that I always counted on, even when I didn’t particularly enjoy her company.

  She turned to me with tears rolling down her face. A slight moment of pity rose in my heart but I pushed it back down again, remembered that anything she was feeling was what she deserved – far less than she deserved, in fact.

  “Those assholes don’t know what they’re doing, either,” she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Her makeup was running down her cheeks and her eyes were blackened with mascara. “They’re going to make you call Martin and tell him to leave town.”

  “He’ll never do it,” I told her. “Right now, he’s probably gathering everyone in the area together. They’re going to find this place and they’re going to kill all of you.”

  She started sobbing again. She’d cast her lot in with Ripper and Jarhead, but the true magnitude of that situation was only now becoming clear to her. Martin and I had taken the club out from under them, but somehow she’d deluded herself into thinking that it was something that would pass.

  I knew I had an opportunity here that I might never have again. If Martin and the others showed up, I didn’t doubt that Jarhead would take me out immediately. He’d see that this wasn’t a hostage negotiation – it was a war. If the Dead Men found this place, there would be no escape for him and he would do everything he could to hurt the club – and me – before he went down.

  “You can get out of this alive, Gina,” I told her, doing my best to keep my voice steady. “Call Martin. Tell him where we are. I’ll make sure they know you had no part in what happened.”

  She turned to me with a wild look on her face. I couldn’t tell if she saw the truth in what I was saying or if her fanatical devotion to Jarhead and Ripper had gotten the better of her and I’d just forced her deeper into her delusion. The crazed sparkle in her eye might have been malice or it might have been the glimmer of hope that we weren’t all going to suffer the same fate as Janie.

  She lunged towards me and I recoiled back against the rotten old couch, uncertain of her intentions. Just as my mind was telling me this is it, she whispered to me.

  “Leyla… you’ve got to get me out of here.”

  I could almost have laughed. At that moment, I was tied hand and foot and I didn’t doubt that if I ran for it, Ripper or Jarhead would have knocked me down and smashed up my legs so I couldn’t try it again. And yet, here was Gina, begging me to help her. Still, it was the best chance I had for escape. Maybe if I was very, very lucky, I’d be alive to see the sun rise in the morning.

  “Call Martin,” I whispered softly. “Call him and tell him where we are. Tell him that I told you. Tell him… tell him you know about the field.”

  “The field?” she asked. “What field? What are you talking about?”

  “He’s going to want to know that I’m safe, but the call’s going to have to be short so don’t bother putting me on the line. He’ll know what it means.”

  She pulled out her phone and started going through her contacts, sniffing pitifully.

  “Shit,” she said. “There’s no reception out here.”

  I had to think fast before she gave up on this crazy plan and decided to renew her allegiance to the Dead Men’s former leader in Northern California. An obstacle like this was just the kind of thing to derail someone like Gina and send her spiraling back towards the wrong path.

  “Tell them you’re going to get some beer. Tell them you’ll drive out alone. If they offer to go with you, say both of them need to stay here to watch over me and stand guard just in case. You can do this, Gina.”

  She looked like she might scream from the pressure of it all. Finally she took a deep breath and nodded, shoving her phone back into the pocket of her jacket.

  “Okay,” she said. “Okay. I can do this.”

  Without another word, she stood up from the couch and walked towards the door of the cabin. She didn’t spare a moment to look back at me, and for once I was glad. If she’d seen the look of terror on my face – my fear that this plan was doomed to failure – she might never have what it took to get out of there.

  I listened carefully, but couldn’t make out any sounds of conversation outside the cabin. In silence I waited, praying silently that Gina would do the right thing and that Martin would get there in time. I didn’t even breathe. I was so concentrated on listening for evidence that things were going my way that I couldn’t even feel the pain in my wrists and my head anymore. Finally, I breathed easily for the first time since I woke up in the truck. The sound of a car engine starting echoed through the cabin. Gina was getting away. As long as she didn’t chicken out, then maybe – just maybe – things would be alright.

  CHAPTER 10

  MORE TIME PASSED WITHOUT any sounds penetrating the cabin. I couldn’t tell how long it had been, but I guessed an hour. Ripper and Jarhead never entered the cabin or came close enough for me to hear them outside, and as far as I could tell, Gina never returned. That was if she even left in the first place. For all I knew, one of the men had taken the car and they’d left Gina behind. Maybe she’d turned on me. Maybe she never was on my side to begin with. With nothing but my own thoughts to keep me busy, I des
cended into the worst kind of despair. Even the small gains I’d made since arriving in this place seemed to turn against me in my own mind.

  I felt like I had no energy left, and no tears either. My body was numb with the pain of the restraints and the pure emotional exhaustion of it all. I simply laid in the dark, trying not to let stray thoughts tear me apart any more than reality already had.

  Finally I heard a sound. Rather than the joyful sound of motorcycles in the distance, though, it was the sound of footsteps. Someone was coming towards the cabin. Someone with loud, heavy feet. My eyes were wide as I waited for them to open the door.

  Ripper appeared in the doorway and stepped inside. When the door shut behind him, it sounded final and foreboding. The whole cabin rattled along with that old door. I was shaking too. I knew Ripper so well, but in a situation like this there was no way to predict his behavior. He was a mad dog now, driven wild by his allegiance to a force he couldn’t control. There would be no talking him out of whatever was in his mind. Gina had been different – she’d been affected by Janie’s death. The sight of her body only seemed to convince Ripper that there was no way back from this path, though.

  “No way out, Leyla,” he said slowly, his voice dripping with hate.

  “What do you want, asshole?” I spat back at him, never giving an inch.

  He didn’t speak to me again, merely moving over to the couch and pushing his hand down hard on my leg. I was already sore from everything I’d been through and the pressure of he applied made me wail with pain immediately. Everywhere he touched me, it felt like my skin was going to burn off. His very presence made my mind squirm and his touch… well, his touch was the worst thing I’ve ever felt.

  He pushed me down against the broken old couch and I sank in a few more inches than I already had. I was struggling as best I could, but with my hands behind my back there was little I could do. When he came close I even tried to head-butt him, but he pulled back and grinned at me. I’ll never get the sight of that grin out of my mind for as long as I live. It was horrible is every way I could name.

  I closed my eyes and screamed, knowing that there was nothing my screams could accomplish. Jarhead was probably the only one left, and he didn’t give a shit what happened to me. In my mind, there was no way out. Just like he said when he stepped into the cabin.

  I felt him tearing at my clothes. He clawed at my pants and pulled at my shirt. Some part of me wanted him to just get it over with. My throat felt like it was going to bleed from the constant scream that I simply couldn’t contain. My eyes were clenched shut and I could hear only my own voice. At first I felt nothing but his hands pawing at my body. Then they seemed to stop and I felt a warm rush across my legs. I was so confused as to what happened that I jerked backwards and stared down at him.

  My terror turned to confusion. Ripper was just kneeling there on the couch in front of me. His eyes were wide open like I’d asked him a question and he didn’t know how to respond. His hands were clutched over his stomach. I looked down at his awkward posture, completely confused as to what was happening. The echo of my own screams was still bouncing around in my head when I saw the blood begin to pour out of him. It seeped between his fingers and for a moment I could hardly believe it was happening. Some part of me thought it was a special effect or something. He tried to speak, but no sound came out. That’s when the hand appeared on his shoulder.

  Martin pushed him aside onto the floor, which he hit with a pained grunt. He was standing there behind where Ripper had knelt. In his hand was a long, rusted piece of metal. Maybe long ago it had been a support for a shed or something. Today it was the weapon that stood between me and whatever terrible fate Ripper had planned. I glanced down to him on the floor, where the blood was beginning to pool beneath his body. He never made a sound.

  The rusty metal was quickly tossed aside and Martin as upon me, twisting me around to cut me free of the zip ties. When the circulation returned to my extremities, it felt painful but I’ve never been happier to feel pain.

  “Can you walk?” he asked.

  “Out of here?” I responded. “Try and stop me.”

  I rushed towards the door, but he stopped me with a gentle grab of my hand.

  “Wait,” he said. “Jarhead is still out there somewhere. The guys are looking for him now.”

  “Who’s here?”

  “Everybody. Ours and Mako both,” he told me.

  “Mako is here?!” I asked, shocked.

  “Before Gina called, we didn’t know where you were. The only thing I could think of to do was call Mako to help us search for you. Joseph and a half dozen of his guys showed up to help right around the time Gina told us where you were. We grabbed the guns that Rik and I stashed earlier and the rest is history.”

  “Where’s Gina?” I asked. I hoped that they hadn’t been too hard on her.

  “Damned if I know,” he responded. “I think she was calling from some place out on the interstate. If I had to guess, she’s miles away by now, headed for Vegas or anywhere that the Dead Men aren’t. Good riddance.”

  I was glad to hear it. Gina had been a part of the attack that had done all of this to me – the attack that had killed Janie – but in the end she had saved me, just as I’d begged her to. She deserved to get away, and she I hoped she was smart enough to never come back.

  “We can’t stay here,” I told him. “Jarhead’s out there, but we’re sitting ducks in here. He could poke his head in a window and take us out with two shots. Better that we meet up with the others.”

  “You’re right,” he said, and moved to open the door first.

  We stepped out into the cool night air. Next to the truck that had brought me here was Martin’s bike and a bunch of other bikes I didn’t recognize. Rik was standing near them with a shotgun in hand. When he saw me, he couldn’t help but smile. He was always so rough, but sometimes good news just can’t be helped.

  I was ready to run over to Rik for safety when there was the sound of shouting from the side of the cabin. Some of the voices I recognized as Dead Men and some were strangers to me. One voice in particular was clear as day – Jarhead.

  “I’ll blow his fucking head off!” he was screaming. Martin and I looked at each other. I could tell he wanted me to stay in safety, but I couldn’t. This was all happening because of me, and I couldn’t just stand by while Jarhead killed again. Despite the pain that was shooting through my body, I was coming with and Martin knew it.

  We ran around the side of the cabin and tried our best to take in the scene. Jarhead was standing near the rear corner of the cabin and in his arm was Joseph. The leader of Mako Motorcycle Club had never looked more vulnerable. He also looked angry, snarling at Jarhead the whole time. Some part of me was glad to see him in such a compromised position. Our new deal might make him an ally of sorts, but he’d certainly caused plenty of trouble for the club. Still, I couldn’t think of much worse fate than being at Jarhead’s mercy.

  “I’ll fucking do it, now back off!” Jarhead roared at the bikers closing in on him. All of them stopped. The Mako guys were furious, but weren’t about to jeopardize their leader. The pair of Dead Men who were left stopped as well, uncertain who they wanted to kill more. The deal had been struck but beyond Martin and I, everyone was having trouble coming to grips with Mako as an ally rather than an enemy.

  Martin stepped forward. He had a gun on his hip, but his hands were empty. I didn’t know if talking our way out of this situation was for the best or not, but glad to see him making a bold action one way or another.

  “Let him go, Jarhead,” he said in a steady voice. “There’s no way out of this.”

  I shivered at the echo of Rippers final words to me repeated in the voice of the man I loved.

  “You fucking prick,” Jarhead spit at Martin. “You’d protect this trash over your own brother?!”

  “You’re no brother of mine,” Martin said, stepping closer. “But that doesn’t mean you have to die here. You drop t
he gun and step away from him and we’ll let you walk out of here.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, and I’m not sure if Jarhead believed it either. Negotiation is well and good, but this was something else entirely. When someone took the life of a Dead Man – or an ally – their life was forfeit. Everyone knew that. Part of what had terrified Martin and I so much was the prospect of having a real fight on our hands. If San Viero found out what was happening up here – and if they got the wrong side of the story – we might be hunted all across the west coast. Jarhead had killed Janie and that could only mean one thing. Releasing him was not an option.

  Jarhead knew the laws as well as anyone, but I could see him considering the offer all the same. He knew he was dead if he didn’t drop the gun. He had to know it. Still, the glimmer of hope that he might walk away unharmed was an alluring possibility.

  “It’s a whole new world, Jared,” Martin said. “The rules are different, now. You can walk away from this.”

  The tension was thicker than the forest around us. Aside from Martin, all of the bikers around were holding their guns, ready to take Jarhead down at the slightest provocation. Joseph had ceased struggling and was staring up at his captor with a look of pure terror on his face. I almost smiled when I saw it, remembering my thought from earlier than he was businessman, not a biker. He was finally getting a taste for what this life was really about and it didn’t seem to agree with him at all.

  “Come on, Jared,” Martin urged him. “Ripper’s dead and Gina’s gone. It’s just you and us.”

  The realization that he was utterly and truly alone seemed to finally sink in. Jarhead hesitated for a moment and then relaxed his arm. Joseph bolted away from him, stumbling across the forest floor. Jarhead still held the gun in his hand. We all watched his fingers, ready for the slightest twitch in the wrong direction.