Текст книги "Burning Ember"

Автор книги: Darby Briar

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Текущая страница: 30 (всего у книги 33 страниц)

Never turn your back on a man that doesn’t recognize his own demons.

EMBER

A door slamming jolts me awake. Blinking away the heavy sleep from my eyes, I take in my surroundings. I’m in the backseat of a car, and the only sound I hear is the constant hiss of the air conditioner. There’s no running motor, music, or proof that anyone else is in here with me.

The last thing I remember is the sedan stopping in front of me, and then Davis. I also recall him shoving a needle into my neck, but not much else.

Judging by how much sunlight is filtering in through the windows, I’d say it’s been hours since then, if not longer.

My entire body is a mass of pain, the side of my abdomen throbbing and mimicking my pulse. The only part of my body that doesn’t hurt is my left shoulder. However, that’s simply because it’s dead from lack of circulation.

I try to sit up a little to check if Davis is in the front seat. It’s nearly impossible with my hands bound behind me, and I regret the undertaking immediately. A sharp bolt of fiery pain shoots up my side, through my shoulder, and down my back. My muscles string tight, and breathing heavily through my nose, I grind my teeth and suck in air.

The door near my head creaks opens and Davis leans in. “Time to wake up. Your new ride’s arrived.” Grabbing me under my arms, he hauls me unceremoniously out of the backseat, not paying a lick of attention to my suffering while he does so.

As soon as I get to my feet, he’s behind me, forcing me forward. Each step takes herculean effort. My wound screams as if someone is pressing a lit torch to my skin and burning me from the outside in. The lava-like heat radiates outward from my side and flows up my torso. It literally feels like I’m dying. And with the amount of blood covering my clothes and skin, I think maybe I am.

I sway, stumble, hiss, and curl inward when it becomes too much to bear. I can’t breathe. I can’t move another step. I just want to lie down and let the ground swallow me up.

But Davis grants me no mercy and shoves me forward.

Instead of focusing on the excruciating agony flowing through me, I center myself around the only thing that feels remotely good and that’s the warmth of the dirt cushioning my feet. The wound still smarts when I put pressure on it, but the heat also somehow soothes it.

Lifting my head to see where he’s forcing me to go, I stop walking abruptly.

Queasiness rolls around in my stomach. Sweat breaks out on my palms and forehead.

Yes, I’m standing in the middle of the desert during a heat wave, but my reaction has nothing to do with the high temperature, and everything to do with the pristine and shiny new Escalade parked twenty feet in front of me. Its windows so darkly tinted I can’t see inside.

I don’t need to see him to know who it is though. The lavishness and the color of the vehicle give him away.

So when the driver’s door opens and Warner steps out, I’m on the verge of throwing up, but not surprised in the least. He’s everything I remember—tall, handsome, physically perfect in every way, and just as intimidating as the day I left him.

He’s wearing a beige suit, no tie, and a stark white shirt. The sun glints off his designer glasses before he removes them, and hangs them at the opening in his collar. With no barrier between his face and mine, I’m hit with what spun my head the first day we met, ice blue eyes, a flawless complexion, and sculpted features.

More beauty than any one person should possess.

And as simple as that, I relive in flashes how his actions changed our story from budding romance to a cautionary tale. One I didn’t know if I’d survive.

I try to twist away, but Davis won’t let me. So I appeal to the cop in him, “Please, don’t do this. You don’t understand what kind of man he is. The minute you leave, he’ll hurt me.”

As Warner gets closer, the side of his mouth lifts and his dimple pops. “There she is,” he coos. “My little phoenix, risen from the ashes.” Then his eyes roam over me, my hair first, then my face, my clothes, and my legs. His smile dims and I can’t help but find pleasure in that.

“Is that her blood?” Warner glares at Davis. “I told you that I didn’t want her harmed.”

“She was already shot when I found her. She won’t say who did it, but I expect it was one of the HOCs.”

“Why didn’t you say anything when we spoke?” Warner inspects me, lifts my shirt, grimaces. His face twists with disgust as he eyes first the nasty bullet wound and then the dirt on my feet.

“Don’t touch me,” I gasp out and tug away from him. Every second I fight not to pass out, because I know I can’t afford to lose consciousness right now.

“There wasn’t anything I could do about it. As it is, I’ll have to spend all day cleaning the evidence from the car or burn the thing.” Davis jerks on my cuffed wrists. “Now, do we still have a deal or not?”

Warner pulls an envelope from the inside of his suit coat. “It’s all there. Uncuff her.”

Davis takes hold of the cuffs on my wrists, and I feel them fall away a second later. As a parting gift, after he takes the envelope from Warner, Davis pushes me forward. Suddenly I know what it feels like to be stabbed with a red-hot poker. Pain like I’ve never felt washes over me. I scream and my body bows. A veil of white clouds my vision for a moment before color and then the desert returns.

When I come to, I’m nearly on my knees except Warner’s holding me. He helps me stand. Then picks up some of my bangs using two fingers and moves them from my eyes. I feel a pang in my heart when he does it, because it’s all wrong, and it makes me ache for Mav with every bone in my body.

If only it were Mav holding me right now. Mav’s murmuring in my ear. Mav telling me he’s going to take me away from here for a long while.

But no, those are Warner’s words and his breath making the sour feeling in my stomach build.

Oh, God, what have I done?

I promised Mav I wouldn’t disappear on him like Dana did. But that’s exactly what I’ve done. I have no doubt that he’ll search for me, and try to fix his mistake. But by the time he does me, it’ll probably be too late.

I hear a car door open and slam. Then Davis’ vehicle starts and he drives off, leaving me alone to face Warner’s demons on my own.

“Jesus, look at you. What did they do to you, Em?” His nose scrunches up as he examines me. He always did have a thing against blood and dirt. I can’t say I’m not pleased that he doesn’t find me desirable right now. That may just be my saving grace.

“Come on. Let me get you cleaned up.” Half-limping and half-hopping, he walks me over to the front of the SUV.

I know what this is. This is the calm before the turbulent storm. Right now there’s not a speck of darkness visible on the surface, but it’s there buzzing under his skin, waiting to make an appearance.

I think about Mav’s darkness and how it was always right there for me to see. Not hidden. And how he’d been fighting it, where Warner had always wanted to explore it further.

Mav didn’t want me afraid of him, and he hated hurting me.

Warner thrives on my fear. Craves seeing my pain.

He’s the real devil in my life.

After opening the passenger door, he pulls a bag from the floor up to the seat. Again, I think about running. I quickly scan the area while his back is turned. And find there’s nothing but sagebrush, treeless mountains, and desert.

He searches through the bag and pulls out a towel. Then a bottle of water and gets it wet. After shutting the door, he moves me to rest my back against the side of the SUV, and gently starts to clean the dirt and blood off me. First my face, then my arms and hands. When he lifts my shirt, he dabs the towel against my skin and works his way from left to right. From the uninjured side toward the finger size whole that’s surrounded by bruised flesh. I wince and flinch away from his touch. But he keeps going and begins to apply more pressure. I’m gasp, whimper, and begin to cry, even go as far as to push his hands away.

“Goddamn it, Em, hold still.” Warner’s nostrils flare, and he closes his eyes. When he blinks them open, the hairs on my neck rise. He swipes the towel closer to the entry wound.

Silent tears cascade down my face, and I dig my nails into the skin of my palms, bite my lip until I taste blood. My throat clogs with tears when I whisper, “Please stop, Warner. It hurts.”

“Why were you hiding from me?”

Any answer I give is only going to fuel the fire so I don’t reply.

His ministrations get rougher. “You’re not going to answer me? Six weeks, Ember. That’s how long I had to go without you. Do you know what that was like for me? How worried I was?” His blue eyes spark with malice. “And then I find out you have some scary ass biker for a father. How come you never told me you were some biker whore’s daughter?”

When I’m silent, he grips my chin and shakes it. “Do you realize because of you, I can’t go home? Go to work. Live a normal life. The Greenbacks are fucking psychos, Em. They’re not going to give up until they find the two of us.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? Not good enough, baby. Not even my father has been able to get us out of this. So like I said, we’re going away for a while. And I don’t want any shit from you, okay? We’ll come back when we’ve been able to work out some kind of deal with them.”

He stares down at me, and then his darkness recedes for a second. “If you’re really sorry, then show me you are, baby. Apologize. Tell me how much you missed me. Help me see that you’re the same girl I met and fell in love with. And get this”—he fingers my shirt and then tugs on Mav’s HOC emblem that still hangs around my neck—“off your body. It makes you look like white trash. Is that what you are? Some slut who sleeps around like her mother?”

“No.”

He smiles a beautiful smile, one that used to make me smile in return. “No. See that’s a good girl.” He tries to pull the necklace over my head.

I snatch it from his hand and hold on to it for all I’m worth. “No. I won’t take it off.”

His smile slowly fades. His eyes roam over me as his lip starts to curl. The muscles in his neck strain. “Take it off, Em. This is the only warning you’re going to get.”

I shake my head and brace for the consequences of my choice to hold on to Mav, because I think the hope of seeing him, Will, and Sunny again is all I have to live for at this point.

Warner grabs my face, digs his fingers into my cheeks, and slams my head against the window of the Escalade, making me rise to the tips of my toes. “Then wear it. Be a biker whore if that’s what you want to be. But don’t cry like a little bitch when I treat you like one.”

His other hand goes to his belt. He quickly unlatches it then pulls it from his pants. He spins me around and shoves me against the SUV. My face smashes against the glass.

The first hit of the belt lands across my shoulder blades. When I cry, buck, and squirm to break free, he tangles his hand in my hair and uses it to keep me where he wants me. Each time the belt lands somewhere new. My lower back, my ass, across my thighs, and then he starts from the top again and works his way down.

After it ends, before I can sag to my knees, I hear him unzip.

And I am nothing . . . nothing but fire. Fire is all I feel. Flaming through me as tears coat my face and neck, and mix with the sweat coating my skin. Panting, I suck oxygen into my lungs.

The boxers I’m wearing are ripped down my thighs and I know I have little time before he forces himself inside me.

“I slept with one of them last night. He didn’t use a condom.” If Warner’s anything, he’s a clean freak. And if I know him like I think I do, the idea of being inside me where another man has recently been, will repulse him.

Then I hear the rip of foil, and he pulls me back a step only to push me down to my knees. He forces my face into the dirt, so that with each inhale it’s sucked into my nose and mouth. I cough and try to wrestle away, but I have nothing left.

I sob, “No,” into the dirt. And I cry Mav’s name. Before it leaves my mouth, Warner buries himself inside me.

I break and break and break. Everything I am shatters to dust. I close my eyes and stop fighting.

Why did I ever dare hope my life could be more than pain and misery and disappointment?

With each thrust, he grunts from the force of it, and my vision grows darker. I give in and let it take hold of me.

Embracing your dark side can set you free.

EMBER

This time when I wake, it’s because fluid is going down my nose and into my mouth. Sputtering I roll to my side, crying out as I do.

Warner stands over me. When the last drop of water leaves the bottle he poured over my face, he throws it into the dirt.

“Get up,” he snaps.

Still coughing, I groan, “No. Leave me here.”

Snagging my arm, he pulls me up, and sets me on my feet, and then shimmies the boxers back up and over my hips. “Don’t. Don’t piss me off again. Damn it, Em, it didn’t need to be this way. Just stop saying things you know will set me off. God, baby. Do you know what it does to me to hear you say someone else touched you? Makes me insane. I realize now it wasn’t true. That you were just trying to get back at me for what I did to you before. But we need to let that go. We’re going to start over. And I’m not going to hurt you anymore. Okay? Let’s forget about the past, start over as new people in a new place and it will be like when we first met.”

I’m staring at sagebrush, and thinking about how warm and soft the ground would be if it became my new home. If he left me, how long would it take before I died of dehydration? Or would the animals do me in first? I’d prefer a fast death over a slow one.

“Em?”

“I want to stay.”

He turns in a circle. “Um, Em, we can’t stay here. We’re—”

“No. Not you and me. Just me. You go. Go . . .” Find someone new to break. No, I don’t really want that.

He cups his hand over my forehead. “Jesus, baby, you’re burning up.” He leaves me to get another bottle of water, a shirt, and the towel. He wets the shirt, grabs my unresponsive hand, and tries to make me hold it to my forehead.

My hand flops back to my side and the shirt lands in the dirt.

His chest expands with heavy breaths and he fists clench, but then after a minute, he grabs my hand and pours water over my arms. He begins to wash me, though I’m nothing but a lifeless doll.

I can sense his tension, his darkness mounting though.

So I know exactly what’s coming when he snags my arm roughly and drags me on unsteady feet to the back of the SUV. “Somehow I knew it was going to be this way.” He stands me four feet away from the rear, and then leaves me there while he lifts the back hatch.

Everything changes. My heart seems to still. My hand covers my mouth. A half-sob half-shriek rings in my ears. Only after it ceases, I realize it came from me. I lunge forward. But Warner stops me from touching her.

Sundown is curled up, her legs bent. Her hands are tied in front of her with a rope and her face is black and blue. Her mass of black silky hair is soaked with sweat, lies in tangles around her. Her right eye is swollen shut. She has dried blood under her nose and her chest isn’t moving. Her usually mocha skin is pale and the sight of it makes my heart stutter and still.

“Sunny.” I stretch my arms out and scream again, “Sunny!”

It’s not until he lets me get closer, that I see Will lying behind her. Also not moving. I just see the side of her small body, and her mess of dark curls.

“Oh . . . God . . . Will . . .” A giant guttural sob tears from my throat. “Will, baby. Wake up!”

He finally lets me go and I reach over Sunny and shake Will. At first, she doesn’t move and when I palm her chest, I don’t feel it rise or fall. But then it does, it expands and draws in a breath.

“Willow!” I shake her harder. She moves, and her hand comes up to rub her eye. Then she turns. Her voice is sleepy when she breathes my name. The second time she screams it. “Em!” I sob harder as she climbs over Sunny and jumps into my arms. It’s at that moment that Sunny moans.

The end of a gun presses into the back of my head, and Will’s body, which is now wrapped around me, freezes.

“How could you?” A river of tears stream uncontrollably down my face.

“I didn’t know if I’d need incentive to get you to come quietly. And Davis wasn’t sure he could get you out of there. I was going to have your sister call you to draw you out, if that’s what it took.”

I spit out, “You’re a monster. How could you ever think I could love you? You make me sick.”

He growls, “Do you want them to get hurt? Do you want me to kill them? Is that what it’s going to take to make you come back to me and behave?” He digs the barrel of the gun into my scalp.

I meet Sunny’s one open eye. The same color of blue as my mothers.

This time my voice comes out as a pain-filled whisper, “No. No. I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt them anymore.” Sunny slowly rises and I mouth take her. It’s awkward because her hands are tied, but she sits up and grabs for Will. I move forward and push Will fully into her arms.

Will clings to me though.

“Will, I need you to go to your mom.”

“NO!” she cries. “You’re my mom. You’re my mom, Em. Don’t leave me. Please.”

I silently lose it and am racked with the sob I’m trying to hold in. Tremors of fear race through me. A shadow crosses over Sunny’s damaged face, but she tries hard and struggles for Will to come to her.

“Will, go to Sunny. I have to go with Warner. Sunny’ll keep you safe.”

“No! He’ll hurt you like he hurt her.” And like the little fighter she is, she latches on to my neck and claws to stay in my arms.

Warner points the gun at my temple. “Let her go, Will, or I’ll kill her.”

With those words, Will shrinks away from me and starts crying hysterically.

I reach up, grab the lip of the trunk, and slowly shut it, sealing them away from me, and more importantly away from Warner.

Afterward, I wipe my tears though I don’t know why, since new ones fall and replace them. The pain I didn’t feel a minute ago returns. Using the SUV to help steady me, I turn to face him. Wincing and breathing harshly, I put my hand over my side and feel blood ooze through my fingers from how drenched my shirt is.

He points the gun at my chest, over my heart. His eyes are crazed. His face a mask of rage, and his body practically vibrates with fury. “I didn’t want it to be this way. It doesn’t have to be. Come away with me, be the girl you used to be, and I’ll let them go.”

I just stare at him, and I think he feels all of the hate circling in my heart for him, because he keeps talking.

“I didn’t want to hurt your sister, baby. But she wouldn’t listen.” Guilt flashes over his face and his eyes dart behind me. There’s shame and something darker in that look. A rush of air whooshes out of my lungs. Bile unfurls up my throat.

“No.” I smack his face. “NO!” I smack him again and then swing my fists wilding at any part of him I can hit. He tries and fails to stop my assault. “Tell me you didn’t touch her!”

In the background, I hear what sounds like a helicopter, but I’m too focused on the look covering his face. He won’t even meet my eyes now. And I know that he did to Sunny what he’s done to me.

He fucking raped my sister.

I hiss and mean each word. “You’re disgusting. Fucking sick! You should be locked away. Or better yet, turn that gun on yourself. You don’t deserve the air you breathe.”

The answering backhand across my face sends me to my knees. I hear Will and Sundown screaming inside the SUV. I hear the helicopter getting closer. I hear the pounding of my heartbeat thumping in my ears, and then a kick to my side cuts out all sound, except that of my cries of pain. The agony steals my breath and my vision goes black then white and then black again.

For the second time, I breathe in dirt, and my whole body is engulfed in an inferno of pain.

Warner bends down and the gun rests between his legs, pointed at the ground.

“I told you, it didn’t have to be this way. You’re the one who left me. You’re the one who wouldn’t come back home. Your sister was asking for it, Em. She practically begged me to do it. And I knew it was the only way I could put her in her place, and let her knew who was in charge.”

He palms the side of my head and then pets my hair.

“Oh, God. I hate you. Don’t touch me,” I rasp as I push his hand away.

Then the trunk is smashing into his face and sends him falling back. The gun drops from his fingers. Adrenaline roars through me, as I watch Sundown leap from the SUV. She and Warner reach for the gun at the same time, grappling for control of it. She’s sitting on top of him and they swing it from side to side, as they try to pry it from each other’s hands.

The sound of it discharging sparks terror through me. Then Sunny stands, staggers back. I grip the bumper, and use it to help me get to my feet. I hear Will crying, but I can’t go to her. Not now. Sunny needs me. I search between her and Warner. He has the gun, and no blood blooms on his front, so dreading the worst, I turn to Sunny.

Blood spills down the left side of her face. Down her cheek, her neck, and moves over her chest. It’s flowing too fast and a shocked expression is frozen on her face.

“Sunny!” I cry. “Don’t move. It’s okay. Just . . . just . . . sit down. It’s okay. You’re going be fine.” I help her to the back of the SUV. As I do, she blinks and her knees buckle. I sit her down, and she begins to fall back. So I lay her gently on the carpet. She stares at the ceiling of the SUV. I peek at the wound. I see chucks of skin and things that shouldn’t be in her hair. Only a portion of her ear remains.

Trying not to panic, I look her in the eyes and touch the side of her face that’s unharmed by the new wound. “You’re okay. I promise you’ll be okay.” I pick up her legs dangling over the side, and push them up into the trunk. “Don’t move. I’m going to get you to a hospital, all right?”

When the sound of a helicopter begins to sound more like an army of motorcycles, I lift my head to see Will with her little hands over her mouth, crying as she stares at my sister. And through the front windshield, I see exactly what I thought I heard.

An army of bikes and bikers. Ones I recognize.

The relief I experience is unexplainable. Like the warmest and softest of blankets. It wraps around me and calls me home. It doesn’t matter that Warner’s behind me and still holding the gun. All that matters is Mav is here.

Warner pulls me back into him, and sticks the barrel of the gun into my neck. The calm that I felt a moment ago tries to fade away, but I won’t let it. I find Mav in the sea of bikers and lock my eyes on him.

He’s in front with Edge and Dozer, and he’s wearing his helmet, a black bandana over the bottom half of his face, and black sunglasses. I know it’s Mav by the look of his bike, and the way he moves as he shuts it down and gets off of it. He harshly kicks the stand down, and leaps off his motorcycle. Then he drops his helmet and rips the fabric away from his mouth. His sunglasses come off and he strides toward me with purpose.

He doesn’t stop coming, and the HOCs behind him rush to pull their weapons. Edge tries to stop him twice, but Mav pushes him off and keeps marching toward me straight into danger.

Warner jerks me in his arms and growls, “Take another step and I will kill her.”

Mav stops eight or so feet away. So close, but so far.

Edge walks up and whispers something in Mav’s ear. They argue, but not loud enough to be heard among the other bikes arriving behind them.

Finally, Edge huffs and leaves him. Mav turns the full weight of his dark stare on me.

“Doll, just hold on for me, okay?” I nod and the side of his mouth lifts just enough that my heart soars.

To Warner, when his eyes shift to him, he gives him only Luce, the darkest version he has inside him and I love them both equally in that moment. Because I know, I need them both to save me, and I need them both in my life.

“You won’t leave the spot you’re standin’ in alive. That I’ll promise you. But if you let her go now, it’ll be over quick.”

“You can have the other two, but I’m taking her with me.”

Mav takes another step, and then another. Warner takes his gun off me and points it at Mav. Edge fires one shot from the only rifle while everyone else holds a handgun.

Warner’s hold on me disappears and I turn barely in time to see him fall to his back. He blinks five times but keeps his eyes on the sky. Then his gaze moves to land on my face. Blood blooms from the shot he took to the right side of his chest. I only notice the gun he starts to aim at me, when Mav rips it from his hand.

“Doll.” My eyes lock with Mav’s, which are pools of gold. “Look away, Baby.”

I think about his command for seconds though it feels like hours. I look to Warner. I want it to be over. I’m sick of having this fear teeming inside me. I’m tired of running and not being able to go home. And above all, I need to know he can’t ever get to Sunny or Will again.

Shaking my head, I rasp, “I can’t. I need to see it. I need to know he’s really gone.”

It seems like forever before he nods once. He shifts his gaze to Warner, kneels down and growls low, “If she wasn’t watchin’ I’d make you suffer. Suffer until you were beggin’ for death.” He forces Warner’s arms out to his side, stands over him and aims. In a voice laced with promise, he says, “We’ll meet again in Hell, motherfucker. You can bet your ass you’ll pay then.” He pumps five holes into Warner. A shot in each of his hands, two in his chest, and one in his forehead.

A star.

The sign of both heaven and hell.

Warner’s body jolts with each bullet and blood blooms from each wound, and only when it’s finished, do I know I’m rid of him. That he’ll never again hurt me or the people I love.

A door opens and I hear shouts. A few seconds later, a small body slams into mine stealing the last of my strength. As I fall to my knees, I wrap my arms around Will who’s shaking and sobbing.

Then Mav’s there palming my face and whispering, “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t know. I didn’t know she was in there.” He kisses my temple and wraps his arms around both Will and me. In that moment, the blanket of comfort and safety comes back. Or at least it does until I remember why I can’t close my eyes just yet.

I gasp, “Oh, God. Sunny!” I raise my head and meet Mav’s eyes.

“Where?”

“In the SUV.” Mav stands and rushes to the SUV. He searches the back seat and then moves to the back of the vehicle. He leaves my sight and a few moments later, he reappears carrying my sister in his arms.

Smoke steps in front of him. He stares at my sister. “That’s my daughter,” he says gruffly. “My Sun. Isn’t that right, baby girl?” He holds his arms out and Mav gently slides her into his waiting arms.

“Y-you . . . didn’t c-come back . . . back for me.”

Hearing Sunny speak fills me with both hope and fear. Hope because she’s alive. But fear, because she’s struggling to speak simple words.

“I know, and I’ll regret it. Regret it every goddamn day of my life. But I’m here now, Sun. And I ain’t ever leavin’ you. You hear me?”

The warm blanket returns. Mav holds me once more. My saint and my sinner. My dark angel.

I close my eyes and I feel him softly brush my hair from my face and kiss the corner of my mouth. “Doll, open your eyes, baby. Open those pretty eyes and look at me.” His voice has an echo quality to it. “Ember. Please, baby.”

But no matter how hard I try, I can’t. I can’t meet his stare this time. The weight of the pain is too much, and my eyelids are just too heavy.

I fall into that deep river of warmth and let it surround me until it is the only thing I feel.