Chapter 5
Raven
Ihold it togetherwhile Chainz interrogates me, but the moment I slip under his arm and storm out the door; I lose it. I rush past the motorcycles parked out front and make it to my car before I lose control.
“Shit, shit, fuck!” I pound on my steering wheel. My body is riddled with so much tension that even destroying my classic Chevy Nova isn’t relieving the pressure in my chest.
Every inch of my body is on fire, inside and out after that encounter. My skin feels like it was scorched by his touch. I wonder if he tastes like the beer and the cheeseburger I smelled on his breath when it fanned across my skin. I begged my lips not to kiss him and my legs to hold steady. Both fights I almost lost with his rock hard abs pressed so close and mischief and violence swirling in his eyes.
“What is wrong with you?” I scold myself for these thoughts and collapse my head into my hands against the steering wheel. The dam breaks flooding my frustration with tears.
It’s obvious Chainz is on to me. He wants to rattle me. Even he knows I left with Fuel last night and it won’t be long until they find his body, where I left it. I’m no match for his strength. The only thing that saved me was my mouth. A much needed change since it often gets me in trouble.
I duck my head lower so Chainz doesn’t notice me when the roar of motorcycles rattle my car and everything else in their wake. When the noise fades, I lift my head and wipe my tears with the back of my hand. There’s no reason to care what he thinks. Chainz is a grade A asshole, and I need to get the hell out of dodge.
“Shit. Get yourself together, woman.” I mumble to myself. Out of habit, I reach for my wrist and remember I’ve lost my bracelet. A whirlwind of manic thoughts take over all logic and reason. I should move fast but all I want to do is find my bracelet, it’s far too sentimental for me to accept it’s lost. It has to be here somewhere.
I dig between the cracks in the seat and comb the floorboard, but it’s nowhere to be found. I retrace my steps trying to figure out when I had it last and then I remember. Throwing my car in reverse, I peel out of the gravel lot following the same roads Fuel and I rode last night to the stash house. The drive seems longer in the light of day, maybe it’s because I’m spending more time glancing in the rear-view mirror than howling into the wind. Last night I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Peace, Freedom, Happiness. Today I’m just terrified. I’m clutching the steering wheel so tight my knuckles are white by the time I pull onto the long road leading to the house. My mind urges me to keep driving, get out of town as fast as I can, but my heart won’t let me. I reason with myself that it’s because I don’t want Adam to find the bracelet that will confirm I was there. Although, it may be Chainz finding it that scares me more. I’m not sure which is worse. Either way, one item that holds no value to anyone but me could destroy me. Coming back here is stupid and reckless, but I can’t bring myself to leave without it.
I slow the car, glancing around for signs that anyone is close enough to notice me. I can’t risk pulling into the driveway and having someone spot my car, so I pull off to the side and park. On full alert, I follow along the tree line until I reach the driveway. The outside isn’t as ominous in the daylight, but I know what’s inside. Fuel’s body. That thought has my heart slamming against my chest. I cross the front yard, running my hands along the vinyl seat of Fuel’s bike as I pass it. The tears that follow blur my vision. He tried to be my friend and ended up dead.
I twist the front door handle and find it locked, which strikes me as odd. Who ever heard of an intruder locking up behind him? I brush the thought aside. I circle to the back of the house, the only way in is the way I left. I pick a stick up off the ground and swipe at the shards of broken glass until it’s clear enough to squeeze through.
As soon as I climb through the bathroom window, I’m hit with the smell of blood. My stomach rolls and I gag on the bile rising in my throat. My steps are laggard as I step through the open bathroom door into the master bedroom. The door leading to the hallway is wide open and even though I can’t see Fuel’s body, there’s a visible pool of blood staining the wooden floor.
I tremble thinking about seeing Fuel’s lifeless body. He didn’t deserve this, but there was nothing I could do to save him then, and there’s nothing I can do for him now.
I inhale a shallow breath, trying hard to force the urge to vomit down. This is no time to be sick. I need to hurry and get the hell out of here before the Krymson Destroyers figure out what happened to Fuel. They’re not enemies I want to have.
Diverting my eyes from the scene, I cross to the bed. I came back here for one reason and one reason only. I draw back the covers and shake the sheets. The familiar scent of my perfume drifts off them as they rise into the air and float back down. The flush on my cheeks raises my body temperature to a dangerous degree. I rip the sheets off the mattress, balling them up in my arms. Desperate to hide them, I glance around the room. Anywhere I stash them someone will find them, and I can’t risk any more complications, not with my DNA all over them. I toss them aside. I’ll have to take them with me when I leave. Which needs to be soon.
Dipping my hands into the space where the mattress and headboard meet, I dig around in search of my bracelet. Dropping to my knees, I search the floor around the bed. Stopping only when I hear heavy footsteps thumping against the floor.
Shit. I was so afraid of what I might see beyond the bedroom door I didn’t think to check if anyone was here.
I’m not alone.
Endless scenarios plague my mind. None will end well for me. I shouldn’t have come back here. The memory of last night burns through me, the pain fresh and raw. Scurrying under the bed to hide myself, I hold my breath, waiting for the footsteps to quiet. I can’t get caught. Even hidden I’m just as exposed as the artery my bracelet used to conceal. The jagged scar is still raised. A constant reminder of my darkest days. If they find me now, I’ll bleed the same.
The footsteps grow louder. A pair of boots approach my hiding place when my eyes fall on the golden chain that comforts me as much as it conceals my secret.
I stretch my trembling hand out from the opposite side of the bed. It’s just out of reach and if I can’t get my hands on it, I’ll lose it forever. Or however long I’ll have left once Chainz and his brothers put the pieces together that lead Fuel’s death back to me. My fingers inch closer, my nails scratching on the wooden floor. When I finally have a hold of it, I jerk my arm back under the bed just as the thumping stops inches from my head. I hold my breath and squeeze my eyes shut. Praying the pounding of my heartbeat won’t give me away.
Callous hands close around my ankles and pull so hard it feels like my legs are being yanked out of the joints. I kick but it’s useless, his hands are strong and I’m at a disadvantage wedged under the bed on my stomach. I flail my arms in front of me, trying to grab onto the corner of the bed frame that’s just out of reach. Another man snatches me off the ground with his arms at my waist, forcing me to my feet. The ambush takes only a few seconds and I’m standing toe to toe with Chainz, his eyes once again boring into me.
Our second run in, in less than two hours. I don’t think my body can take any more of this closeness. I’m terrified and turned on enough already. The way Chainz towers over me, staring down at me with that permanent scowl pursed on his lips, doesn’t help. “What do we have here?”
My eyes drift away from his face. I can’t stare into those accusing eyes any longer or I might spill my sinful deeds. Gazing at the tattoo sleeved along his thick bronze arm doesn’t settle my trembling body. I want to reach out and touch it, trail my fingers along the intricate pattern, a vine of roses and thorns entwined around a pistol and a dagger. What is it about this man that has me acting like a brainless tool? I should run for my life, not ponder the significance of his body art.
The rough tone of his voice draws me out of my thoughts, forcing me back to reality. “Looking for something?”
I clench the one thing I was looking for in the palm of my hand, fisted at my side.
His strong hand wraps around mine, his fingers prying mine apart with ease, revealing the bracelet tucked in my hand. “What’s this?” He turns it over in his fingers, reading the engraving etched into the gold. “Who’s Paige?”
Unshed tears sting my eyes at the sound of her name. He might as well have reached into my chest and ripped out my heart to hold in his hand along with my bracelet.
