“That’s revolting,” I repeated, then added, “and you’re revolting.”
I didn’t want to look at him anymore.
I didn’t want to talk to him.
I wanted to find Tina and get the hell out of here.
And just at that moment, Catfish and Drill reappeared. This time they came out of the main entrance to the bar and four other bikers were with them. I felt Claire stiffen at my side and take a step back.
“What the hell?” I heard Repo say, glancing over his shoulder. He turned completely around as they neared, his hands on his hips, standing between us and the approaching gang. “What the hell is this?”
The men kept advancing, and something about the set of their jaws and the steel in their eyes made my stomach drop.
“We need to go,” Claire backed up another step, pulling me with her. “Shit, we need to run. Run!”
But we were too late. They read our intentions before we could gain distance and these men moved like athletes. I’d only managed ten sprinted steps before I was lifted off my feet, big arms closing around my torso and turning me back to the bar.
I heard Claire screech and cuss, realized she was also being carried. Drill had thrown her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
I also heard Repo rage against the giant who was carrying me. “What the fuck is this? You get your goddamn hands off her right fucking now or I’ll break every finger in your fucking hand!”
“Sorry, Repo,” Catfish’s baritone rumbled behind me as I fought fruitlessly against his hold; I might as well have been clawing at a boulder. “Razor wants the girl.”
CHAPTER 27
“Travel far enough, you meet yourself.”
― David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas
~Duane~
“Have you called Jess yet?”
I shook my head, staring out the driver’s side window of Beau’s GTO. It was the Friday after Thanksgiving. Instead of heading to the jam session and delicious coleslaw, we were on our way to the Dragon Biker Bar, unannounced and uninvited. We were presently stopped at the convenience store because Cletus needed duct tape. Jethro escorted Cletus into the store to ensure he didn’t dawdle. And I was driving because I was by far the best driver in case we needed to make a quick getaway.
I heard Beau curse under his breath next to me then say, “You’re such a dummy.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to call her. I just haven’t called her yet.”
“Well, why not?”
“Because I don’t have a plan yet, that’s why. I need to come to her with a plan, not just being stupid.”
“You are being stupid. What you need to do is call her, tell her you were wrong, beg for her forgiveness, say you’re ready to go whenever she is, and then meet some place for make-up sex. That’s how you do it.”
“She’s not going to forgive me that easily. That’s why I need a plan. Besides, I want all this mess with the Iron Order over and done with before I set things straight. They’ve taken too much of my time, been too much of a distraction.”
“You need to stop waiting for everything to be just right, Duane. Haven’t you wasted enough time already?”
“I’m not asking for your opinion,” I ground out.
Beau shook his head and sing-songed under his breath, “You’re making a mista-ake.”
The buzz of my phone offered an alternative to Beau’s meddling. Tina.
My message to her yesterday was clear: she was no longer needed.
She hadn’t responded. Not ’til now.
Tina: Tina can’t come to the phone right now. You should probably call your Uncle Razor, he’s got something you want.
I frowned at the short text, reading it twice, then cursed.
“What? What is it?” Beau glanced between me and my phone.
I showed him my screen.
He cursed, then said unnecessarily. “I bet she got herself caught.”
Luckily Jethro and Cletus walked out of the Piggly Wiggly at just that moment and made a beeline for the car.
“Sorry that took so long. They had a wide selection of duct tape. And Cletus bought silly string.” Jethro sounded irritated as he settled in the car behind me.
“You can’t rush a duct tape purchase.” In my rearview mirror I saw Cletus clutching the shopping bag to his chest. “Duct tape is man’s answer to electrons and protons. It’s how we keep matter together.”
Once Beau was back in the car, he grabbed my phone out of my hand and passed it to Cletus. “We may have a problem.”
Cletus frowned at the message, then nodded, pushing his thick-rimmed glasses farther up his nose. “Well. Okay then. You can’t make an omelet without heat.”