But Hot Wheels didn't even seem to hear his president's words, didn't even look in his leader's direction. His eyes were locked on hers, begging with her, pleading with her. Finally, she took a small step backwards toward the exit, and then another.
"Go, Hot Wheels," Sparkplug said, anger and resignation hard in his deep voice, "Get the fuck out of here, now!" It was the force of his words that propelled her forward, well, that and the ten big hulky bikers that started moving threatening towards her. She didn't even want to imagine what her fate would be if they caught her. She wasn't about to give them the chance. With one last, anguished look at Sparkplug, who even now was being pulled off of Treck by two other members, Hot Wheels turned and fled.
As she ran to her bike, threw her legs over and started the ignition she had to wipe the tears from her eyes to clear her vision. She had to get back to the farm. She had to tell Joel and Carla what had happened. Dread and guilt sat hard in the pit of her stomach. This was definitely not her idea of taking care of things. Because the fact was, she just may have sparked a war between the Nomads and the Dirty Cruisers and another fact was that the Cruisers might not be there to fight if it came to it.
With the split in the crew, she didn't know anymore who was loyal to the Cruisers, and who was just loyal to that asshole Viper. But either way, it didn't bode well for them. The Nomads might be scumbags, but they were well organized scumbags, and with the Dirty Cruisers fractured, they wouldn't stand a chance. Shit. She had to tell Joel, Hot Wheels thought as she revved the engine and raced away from the Nomad's warehouse. He had to know what was coming.
***
Damaris watched the scene unfold before him like he was watching a play, and in a way he was. Each person an actor playing his or her part. He had to say that Hot Wheels had played hers masterfully. He'd been searching and searching for the match to strike against the Dirty Cruisers and that fucking farm they were working on. And she had wrapped it in a pretty pink bow and delivered it straight to his doorstep. He couldn't have planned it better himself.
He waved his hand briefly through the air and his men released Sparkplug. He was a good member of the crew, or he had been before he'd gotten caught up on a certain blond and his loyalties had shifted. He'd been all too easy to manipulate, the both of them despicably predictable as his game played out. Boring, almost. And he hated being bored.
"What do you want us to do with him, boss?" Treck asked eagerly. He was always eager. Young, inexperienced. Like a puppy always bouncing around the big dogs, trying to fit into the pack.
"Let him go."
"Wha – What? Are you serious? Just let him go?"
Damaris took a step towards him, that was all, just a single step but the man flinched as if he'd brandished his knife under his throat. The girl hadn't even flinched, but Treck was practically sniveling.
"Did. I. Stutter?" he asked, enunciating each word. He waited until Treck shook his head in denial before resuming his seat, "Then let him go. He's served his purpose," Damaris watched as the men reluctantly followed his orders and Sparkplug turned, walking away without looking back. It was a shame to lose him. But he didn't have a choice, now. "If I ever see you again, Sparkplug, I'll gut you myself and feed you to the dogs."
Sparkplug paused for a bare moment, nodded once in acknowledgement before continuing on, unfazed by his threat. A damn shame.
"Scorpion, take a couple of the members and follow our guest back to the farm," Damaris said, still staring after the spot that Sparkplug had just disappeared from, "Let's give them a new message. A message they won't ever forget."
"Of course, Damaris. Right away," Scorpion said, as emotionless as ever. Damaris knew the man wouldn't take any pleasure in doing his job, he would just be following orders, and that's why he trusted him the most. With a wave of his hand, Scorpion, and a handful of others were riding off in the direction of Honey Bud Farms, right on the delectable Hot Wheels' tail.
Chapter 21
Elle could only pay half a mind to the forms in front of her. Her thoughts kept going again and again to what had happened earlier. That biker, Scorpio or whatever Joel had said his name was, had been mere moments from hurting Honey. She knew it. Something she felt in her bones. A gut instinct that she knew was true no matter how much Honey wanted to deny it. Or blame her for putting herself at risk.
That thought just made her temper flare, again. Whenever she remembered the high handed way he'd tried to talk down to her. The nerve! To tell her that she had no right! No right to try and save him, to try and help him. No right to, well, do the right thing. It was infuriating. He was infuriating.
She hadn't spoken to him since earlier, he'd spent the day working in the greenhouse and then disappeared out into the fields an hour ago, and she'd spent the day working in the office. Well, trying to work at least. She hadn't been very successful so far. Thoughts of him kept her distracted. Partly because she didn't know what to say to him, how to convince him that she didn't need him to afraid for her, and partly because, well, because he was right. A little bit. A very little bit. Sometimes, she did put herself in risky situations but look who was talking! He was a member of a notorious biker gang, for Pete's sake!
As if he'd never taken a risk or done something dangerous before. Elle shook her head. It was the same argument she'd been having with herself all afternoon, and it still hadn't gotten her any closer to forgiving him. Not that he'd asked for forgiveness, or had even apologized! He was just the most … the most infuriating man she'd ever met. And what was worse was that she still wanted him. Desperately.
What is wrong with me? she asked herself, but no answer came. Instead all she heard was the sound of a motorcycle engine driving up to the farm and the sound had a shot of fear flying through her as memories from earlier filled her.
Elle jumped up and leapt to the window, sighing in relief as she caught the familiar rebellious expression on Hot Wheels face as she parked her bike and slid to her feet. She had barely had time to take a step before Elle was racing out to meet her, Carla not far behind.
"Hot Wheels, what are you doing back already?" Carla asked as she jogged close enough so that she didn't have to yell the words, "How did it go?"
"How did it go? How did it go!" Hot Wheels raved, throwing her helmet on the ground as she kicked up a cloud of dust with the toe of her black leather boot, "Not fucking good, that's how it went."
"Oh," Elle said as she came to a stop, the word slipping out before she'd realized she had spoken.
"Oh? We're about to go to war with the Nomads and all you can say is ‘oh'?" Hot Wheels sneered, glaring at her through a sheen of tears, "What the hell are you even doing here, Elle? Don't you have to go teach some rich, privileged kids a useless skill?"
"Hey!" Carla said, stepping forward with one hand raised between them, "That's enough, Wheels. Just tell us what happened."
"Where's Joel?" she shot back, "I need to talk to Joel."
"He went back to the Cruisers." Carla sighed, "He thought he might be able to talk to some of the guys that are still loyal to him, to the crew."
"Well, we all better hope that he finds some. More than some. An army would be preferable."
"Hot Wheels, what happened?" Elle asked, repeating Carla's question as she took a step forward. She didn't take offense at the other woman's harsh words. It was obvious that she was upset, barely holding back the flood of tears shining in her pale green eyes.
"I went to the Nomads, like Joel asked," Hot Wheels started, taking a deep breath to try and get a hold of her riotous emotions, "Things didn't go as well as we might have hoped. The president of the Nomads threw down the gauntlet, Carla. He wants a cut, and one way or the other, he said he's going to get it, even … even if he has to take the farm for himself."
"What?" Carla gasped, shaking her head in dismay, "He can't … he can't do that."
"He's the leader of one of the worst gangs in the area, Carla. He can pretty much do what he wants – " Hot Wheels words were interrupted by another approaching rumble and her face fell as dread flooded her features, "Oh, shit."
"Oh shit?" Elle whispered, "What's ‘oh shit'?"
Hot Wheels just pointed towards the opening in the drive as five large bikers rode in, "That's oh shit."
They were all big, the one at the front the biggest by far, and none of them where Dirty Cruisers. They had to be members of the Nomads. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach Elle watched as they circled the small group of woman, the one at the front finally close enough for her to recognize.