It seemed like an eternity when in reality it had probably only been another ten minutes when her pale green eyes caught something on the horizon. She discounted it at first but as it drew closer she knew her eyes weren't deceiving her. There really was a cloud of dust rising from the otherwise empty highway, and it was getting closer.
Fear was her first reaction, as it always was, as it always had been for as long as she could remember, as a child waiting for the clenched fist to fall. But she'd learned over the years that it wasn't being afraid that made you a coward, it was if you gave into it. And she had a lot of practice fighting off that particular demon.
So, as she waited, she beat back the fear, pushing herself up to her feet from where she'd been leaning against her motorcycle and faced whatever was coming head on. That cloud drew closer and with it came the undeniable, familiar sound of a motorcycle engine filling the air. The rev and growl of it never failed to get her blood pumping a little faster in her veins, and this time was no different, especially when the rider drew close enough for her to recognize his stocky frame and the chiseled features that were hidden behind the visor of his helmet.
Her heart started beating faster, and faster. Tripling its rhythm now but for a different reason than the exciting sound of the motorcycle. No, this time it had nothing to do with that and everything to do with the man riding ever closer to her. It was Sparkplug.
He slowed as he neared, pulling off and finally parking his larger motorcycle next to hers, behind an outcropping of rock that blocked them from any casual passerby. The first thing she noticed as he got off and walked closer was the shaken look in his eyes. Normally he was the solid one. In the past, he'd been her rock, holding her up, keeping her going when all she wanted to do was give up.
"Wh-What happened?" Hot Wheels forced out as he walked up, stopping just in front of her but his eyes constantly tracked the still empty highway, looking. Searching. He brushed off her question, still not looking at her and she took a quick step forward, grabbing his head in both of her hands and pulling his head down, forcing him too.
"Spark, what the hell happened? Tell me!" She demanded, her voice low but forceful and she searched his face, taking a step back at the bitter anger that flashed into his eyes.
"What happened? I'll tell you what fucking happened, Hot Wheels. It all went to shit. Real quick. You could have gotten yourself killed, you know that? What were you thinking, confronting Damaris like that? Challenging him? The guy is insane."
"Yeah, I figured that one out for myself," Hot Wheels shot back, her tone rife with sarcasm but she couldn't stop the shudder at the reminder of what had happened. She stared up at him them, "I didn't think you were going to come."
Sparkplug stared right back, holding her gaze for an eternity before finally huffing out a sigh, running his hands through his long, untamed hair.
"Honestly? I didn't think I was either. He … Damaris kicked me out. He said if he sees me again – ."
"I get the gist. You don't need to spell it out. The guy is a complete psychopath."
"Maybe. I mean, most of the crew is more scared of him than loyal but he has his circle of thugs that does his bidding no matter what."
"I'm sorry." Hot Wheels said suddenly, and he gave her a sideways look.
"For what?"
"For this," She said with a snort, "I get it. You just lost your family, Sparkplug. You have to be hurting."
"I didn't come here for sympathy!" He growled the words, taking an angry step away before turning back with a dark scowl on his face. "I just needed to tell you."
"Tell me what?"
"That the situation is more complicated than you, or Joel, realize." Sparkplug shook his head, obviously trying to straighten his thoughts before he continued, "Things have … changed."
"Changed how?" Hot Wheels asked reluctantly, that feeling of dread that had been sitting like a weight in her stomach since the attack the farm growing even heavier.
"Look, right before I got kicked out, before you had to stomp your sweet ass in there like you owned the place and got me kicked out, I was working on digging up some info from the top brass."
"What kind of info?" Hot Wheels asked, interrupting.
"That's what I'm trying to tell you if you would stop interrupting!" Sparkplug let the words slide out on an irritated huff and she just shrugged, gesturing for him to continue with an arch of her brow that had him lowering his in frustration. Hot Wheels threw both of her hands up in a gesture of mock innocence, nodding for him to go on.
"Damaris made a deal with Viper. I'd just found out about it before … anyways, that's not important. What is important is that Damaris promised that the Nomads would back Viper so he could take over the Dirty Cruisers and the farm in return for Viper giving them a massive cut of the weed basically for free."
"What? Why would Viper agree to something like that?" Hot Wheels gasped, the implications of the deal rattling her even more than she already was. But then she realized something. She knew Viper. He could only think about what was right in front of him, which was Joel and the ridiculous notion that he deserved to be the DC's leader. His tiny brain probably couldn't even think that far into the future to see the catastrophe that the deal would create.
If it went through, the Nomads would basically own the Dirty Cruisers. Rage, pure and unadulterated, flashed through her veins. It was her family that the prick was messing with, her home, her life. And she could feel it all slipping through her fingers like fine grained sand. Nothing she could do to stop it. There was nothing in the world that she hated more than feeling helpless.
And on the tails of hopelessness, came panic, riding in at full throttle. She glanced over at Sparkplug, worry heavy in her light green eyes.
"This is not good."
"No fucking shit it's not good." Sparkplug snorted, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck in a familiar gesture of frustration.
"I have to … I have to call Joel. I have to let him know … We have to do something! We have to get that son of a bitch!"
Sparkplug laid a heavy hand on her shoulder and she felt the bittersweet warmth of his touch travel all the way through her and back, echoing over and over across her skin until she had to close her eyes against it. They were still closed as his soft words washed over her.
"Just call Joel first. We have to make a plan, we have to figure this out first before we go after anyone. And we will. I promise we will. It will be okay, Hot Wheels. You have to believe me. It will be alright in the end."
Finally, she blinked open her eyes and she knew that there was a sheen of unfallen tears making her eyes glimmer in the sunlight.
"But what if it's not?" She asked, her voice small, not even sounding like it belonged to her. Sparkplug just shook his head and sighed.
"Call Joel, Hot Wheels. Just, call Joel and let him know everything that's going on. He needs to know."
***
Elle's hands shook as she took the whistling kettle off of the burner and carefully poured the steaming water into the small porcelain tea cup that sat on the counter. She picked it up and breathed deep. Normally, the smell of the mint and lemon tea she drank calmed her but her hands still shook, rattling the cup on its matching saucer and she hastily set it back down before she spilled it everywhere.
She took another deep breath, but that didn't do anything to steady them either. They'd been shaking since the night before, what had happened. Oddly enough, not what had happened with that bully Scorpion at the farm, but what had occurred after, at home, wrapped safe and secure in Honey's arms.
Even now she could hear his words echo in her head, a record playing on repeat that she couldn't get to stop no matter how hard she tried. If she was honest with herself, what he'd told her had terrified her, frozen her lungs until she couldn't draw a breath and had paralyzed her. What had terrified her even more the jolt of emotion that had went off inside her like fireworks on the fourth of July. Emotions that she couldn't even begin to understand.
Fear, panic, anxiety, tenderness, caring, affection, joy, and something else, something deeper and underlying all the rest that she was too afraid to look to closely at. A million reasons why she was being such a giant fool flew through her head and she couldn't shake them even though she tried.
Elle hadn't talked to Honey since it had happened. She had fled to her bedroom, shutting the door and threw herself into bed but no matter what she did, sleep had eluded her for the long, lonely night. Knowing that Honey was sleeping somewhere else in the house, so close that if she wanted she could just walk out of her room and touch him, certainly hadn't helped.
They'd both been avoiding each other since she'd stumbled bleary eyed down to the kitchen a little earlier and she has to admit, at least to herself that she's relieved. Because she doesn't know what to say to him. She wouldn't even know where to begin. But the worst part was the hurt that had shone at her from the depths of his dark eyes. She hated knowing that she'd hurt him. And hated even more that she didn't know what to do about it.