Dark Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 6) (21 page)

Warren locked her left hand in the cuff, then gave her face a hard, quick caress. “OK, kitten?”

“Yes.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah. I’m OK, I promise you.”

“Good.” He pressed the handcuff key in to her right hand, and she closed around it, gripping it hard. “Now. Tell me one more time what you’re gonna do.”

“I’m going to stay down here, just in case someone comes while you’re out making the call. If someone shows up, I’m to hide the key under the pillow. You’ll unlock me when you get back.”

“And if something happens, and I don’t come back?” he asked, his face and voice both hard.

She swallowed. “I wait for one hour. If you aren’t back by then, then I…”

“Say it, Shay. Say it all.”

“Then I have to assume that something’s seriously wrong, and I have to get the hell out of here. I unlock the cuff, and I grab the extra gun in the bedroom, and I run.”

“And you don’t look back,” he added.

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I – I don’t look back.”

“You don’t go after me. You don’t wait for me. You don’t look for me, ever again. You figure that something bad’s happened, and you figure that I’m gone. We don’t know if my calls are being monitored, or if we’re being watched. I may go out there and get shot down, and if that happens, you need to get the fuck away. You take all your guts, and all your rage, and all your smarts, and you go out in to the world, and you make a good life for yourself.”

Shay took a breath. The thought of trying to build a life without Warren was painful, to the point of death. But no way she was going to go
that
way. Not this time. If she lost him and then just gave up and took her own life, or wasted away rejecting love and living alone, it’d be nothing but a slap to his face.

If he was going to die saving her, then the least she could do for him was live. Really,
really
live.

Even if it was a shadow of the life that she wanted, a faint echo of the life that she craved. She’d do it; she’d do it for him.

He carried on now. “If someone comes here intent on harming you, you get free and you do your Ninja shit and you hurt them. Hurt them bad enough to get to the gun, and then you kill them. No doubts and no regrets, baby.” His cold blue gaze bore in to her like a drill of ice. “Clear?”

“Warren…”

“
Clear
?” he snapped.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“One last thing,” he said gruffly.

She nodded, her throat too tight to actually articulate words.

“You’re trusting me to call for help, to call someone you don’t know, who I say can get us to freedom,” he said. “You’re also trusting me to come back and get you, and I get that that’s
a lot
of trust. But I’m trusting you here, too. I’m trusting you to not run the second I walk out that front door.”

Stunned, her mouth dropped open.”I’d
never
–”

“And I believe you.” His face gentled. “I do. I’m also trusting you to save yourself, if that’s what it comes down to. Can you promise me that?”

“Yes.”

“Say it again.”

“I promise.”

“OK, then.” He stared down at her for a few seconds, then planted his hands on either side of her head. He lowered his lips to hers, and he kissed her. He kissed her like this may be the last time this ever happened, and she felt it.

With a gasp, she pulled her mouth away, clung to his t-shirt with her free hand. “Warren… don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Kiss me like you’re never going to do it again. You will.”

He smiled, and she saw that it was a half-smile, one designed to soothe her fears, but not one that made any promises. He stood up then, gave her one last, long look.

“I’m going now,” he said. “You stay here and stay calm. OK?”

She nodded.

“I love you, Shay. You know that, right?”

“I do.” She smiled through her sudden tears. “I love you, too.”

“I know, baby.”

“Come back to me, alright?”

“I’ll do anything that I have to do to make that happen.” His eyes were the eyes of a killer, and she shivered. “
Anything
. And I won’t ever feel bad about doing any of it, if it means getting to you, and keeping you safe.”

“I know.”

Warren touched her soft cheek one more time, then abruptly – before he could start to feel any worry or doubt – he was heading up the stairs.

And then he was gone.

**

Warren shrugged on his heavy leather jacket, headed out the front door. He turned left, knowing that there were cabins and businesses in that direction, so the chance of getting a cell signal was semi-decent.

He trudged through the snow, checking the bars on his cell every twenty paces or so. Nothing doing, and his frustration level started to rise as time passed and his cell stayed stubbornly without reception.

It would have been easier to call from the land line, naturally, but that was a non-starter
and
a no-brainer. Once he and Shay had vanished, the Fallen Angels would check the phone records for damn sure – and Warren didn’t want to leave any proof of his connection to this person. He was sure that they could take care of themselves, and God knows they had some seriously terrifying friends, but still. No sense leaving
any
trail, if it could be avoided.

He glanced down now, and was stunned when he saw bars on the cell phone.
Holy fuck,
he had reception. He quickly dialed the number from memory, holding his breath as the phone rang at the other end.

About seven months ago, he’d been given this person’s phone number on a piece of paper, and he’d immediately known to not keep it. It was the kind of thing that, if discovered by the MC, would end his life. So he’d memorized the nine digits, burned them in to his brain so deep that he could probably recite them in his sleep.

On some level, Warren had always known that he’d use this number. That he’d call and take this person up on their offer.

The ringing at the other end stopped, and he heard a female voice. “Yeah?”

“Miss Honey?” he blurted out. “Is that you?”

A short pause. Then: “Warren Kane?”

“Yes.”

“Holy
fuck
, kid. What’s wrong?”

“Hey,” he snapped, surprising them both. “Enough. I’m not a
kid
, Honey, and I haven’t been one for a long fucking time. You get me? I know that when you first met me, I was stupid as hell… but I’m not now and I haven’t been for a long,
long
while. So cut it out. I’m in trouble, but if you’re gonna disrespect me, I’ll sort shit out on my own.”

A stunned silence greeted this outburst. Then:

“I’m sorry, Warren. You’re right. That was uncalled-for.”

He took a deep breath. “It’s OK.”

“So,” Honey said. “Why are you calling?”

“Remember what you told me when you gave me this number?”

“You mean when I said that if you ever wanted to get out of the Fallen Angels, or if something bad happened and you were in a jam, you could call me? No conditions, and I promised not to give a flying fuck what you might have done between then and the call? You mean when I said that I’d come and get you wherever you were, and no goddamned questions asked?”

“Yes.”

“I remember. Clearly.”

“Honey?”

“Yes, Warren?”

“I want out, and I need your help. And not just me – someone else needs you, too.”

“How much time have you got to talk?”

He glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes. Then I’ve got to get back to her.”

“So.” He heard her shut a door. “Talk fast, Warren. Tell me everything.”

And – with nothing but a sense of setting down a heavy burden – Warren did.

Chapter Fifteen
Two days later

Shay and Warren had just finished their breakfast when they heard it. An engine in the distance, but getting closer.

She froze with the coffee cup halfway to her lips, but he shot to his feet, dashed over to the window. He drew the curtains back, just a bit, squinted out, trying to see through the trees.

“Babe?” Shay was standing now. She shifted from foot to foot, looking for all the world like a deer about to bolt. “Is it – ”

“Hang on, kitten,” he said, still staring in the direction of the path that led to the cabin. “I don’t see anything yet.”

The words had just left his mouth when he saw the black SUV coming up the narrow road, and saw Ace in the passenger seat. He spun, ran at her. She gasped, already panicking.

Warren grabbed her arm, practically dragged her to the basement door and down the stairs. Shay stumbled along behind him, desperately trying to remember what they’d practiced, but it was like all those drills had just flown right out of her head.

“Warren,” she said, trying to focus. “I don’t –”

“Relax,” he said softly, even as he hauled her over to the bed. “Just lie down.”

Shaking, lips numb and scalp prickling, she did as he said. So carefully, so gently, he raised her arms up and over her head, slipped the cuffs around her wrist, snapped and locked them.

Right away, Shay shut her eyes and stopped breathing. Stopped thinking. Stopped feeling. She was thrown in to blackness, she pitched forward in to it, she became one with it. She just wanted to disappear, to hide from whatever was coming their way.

“Hey.” His voice was nothing but worried as he knelt down next to the bed, covered her with a blanket. “Breathe, baby.”

She barely heard him. All she knew was the rising fear, the looming threat, the descending nightmare.

“Shay.” Warren held her face in both hands, tried to stay calm. “Open your eyes for me.”

She cracked her eyes open a tiny bit, and looked in to his worried face. He smiled, trying hard to soothe her, and stroked her soft skin with his thumbs.

“C’mon, kitten. You’ve got to hold it together now, OK?”

She managed a jerky, tight nod.

“Say it, Shay,” he commanded. “Say that you’re with me.”

“I’m – I’m with you.” She cleared her throat. “I’m OK.”

“Good.” He got to his feet, instinctively glanced up at the ceiling. “Now, I’ve got to get up there. You just stay quiet, and if anybody comes down here, you stay cool. I’m right here, and I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

Too terrified to speak, she just nodded again.

“Breathe,” he ordered her. “Just keep breathing. Promise me.”

“I promise,” she whispered.

“I love you,” he said. “I’m going to keep you safe. Trust me?”

“Yes.” Her voice was stronger now, his love for her giving her strength. “I trust you. I love you.”

He smiled at her again, then hurried back up the stairs. She heard the door close, and then she heard footsteps above her head. She followed them with her eyes, mentally following Warren around the cabin. And when a second, then third, set of footsteps joined his, she stared above her with wide, terrified eyes.

Two more men were in the cabin. But who?

Upstairs, Warren silently stared at Ace and Kirk Jensen. Every sense and nerve was in hyperdrive right now, and he stuck his hands in his jeans pockets, tried to look all hardcore badass. Like he was exactly the kind of asshole who’d spent the past ten days casually drinking beer while a woman was handcuffed to a bed under his feet.

“So,” Kirk said, his voice cold and disinterested. “How’s the little cunt been?”

Warren tensed at him insulting Shay, then stood down. No point going all Prince Valiant and demanding respectful language to refer to the fair maiden. Jensen was a fucking creep, and nothing was going to change that, but Warren wasn’t supposed to give a fuck about Shay either way, and he’d best remember that. The path of least resistance was the safest option here – at least until Warren could figure out what the hell these two assholes wanted.

“She’s been fine,” he said, adopting a supremely bored tone. “Cries a lot, but she shuts up when I make her.”

“And how do you shut her up?” Kirk said with a smirk. “With something below the belt, maybe?”

Warren kept his face impassive, and just shrugged.

“Yeah, I thought so.” Kirk glanced at Ace, smirked wider. “What the hell
else
did you have to do up here for the past week-and-a-half, huh? I hope she helped pass the time.”

“She’s been adequate,” Warren said.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh. Nice.” Kirk looked at his watch. “Crusher will be here soon.”

Warren felt his eyes widen, just a bit, before he could stop them. He forced himself to not ask. Waited for one of these dickheads to fill in the blanks.

“Yeah,” Kirk said in a ruminative tone. “Turns out, Crusher ain’t the rat.”

Warren shifted on his feet. Waited some more.

“So he’s come over here all the way from Utah to talk to his dear sister,” Kirk said. “Seems they haven’t actually spoken in a while, so it should be a nice reunion. Touching, even.”

Warren highly doubted
that
, and now serious worry for Shay settled in to the pit of his stomach. She’d been crystal clear that Crusher wouldn’t be riding to the rescue out of any real concern for her, so he hardly thought that the man was coming here to save her from the evil clutches of the Fallen Angels because he loved Shay. His motivations were murky, to say the least.

Unless he’d had a change of heart about things? Hell, maybe the past six years without his baby sister had softened him a bit, made him miss her, made him give a damn? Maybe hearing that she’d been kidnapped and held against her will had revived some brotherly affection?

Despite himself, despite everything, Warren found himself hoping that Shay and Hal might reconcile. There was a lot of forgiving to be done on Shay’s side, and he wasn’t at all sure that she’d be capable of it – but if Warren was about to watch her walk out of his life, then he’d rather see her do that with her brother’s protection and love than on her own.

It only now occurred to him that she just might be leaving in a few minutes. If that happened, then he’d be losing her forever.

And he hadn’t even kissed her goodbye.

Just then, the sound of another motorcycle engine cut through the air. They all glanced at the window, then Ace walked over to the door, opened it.

“Yep,” he said, speaking for the first time since walking in to the cabin. “Crusher.”

“I figured,” Kirk said as he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer.

Ace stood in the open doorway, watched as Crusher pulled up and parked. He’d never liked or trusted the guy, but then again, Ace felt that way about pretty much every MC member that he came across. Christ, he barely trusted his own brothers, since he knew damn good and well that if they knew what he
really
was, they’d kill him. And they’d do it with minimum speed and maximum pain.

Crusher stalked up to the cabin, and Ace watched as this human mountain moved towards him. No matter how many times he saw the man in the flesh, he couldn’t quite get over his size. He was hands-down the biggest guy that Ace had ever laid eyes on. He was also one of the most terrifying, and damned if he didn’t know it.

“Ace,” Crusher greeted him.

“Crusher,” Ace responded, stepping aside. He knew that was about all they’d be saying to each other, and he was good with that. He watched as Crusher strode on in to the cabin, took the place in within seconds. His cold green eyes settled on Derby, and he cocked his head.

“You the guy who’s been babysitting?” he demanded.

“Yeah.” Derby sounded completely bored out of his ever-loving mind, as usual. Man, the guy was able to play it
cold
, colder and better than almost anyone Ace had ever met. “That’s me.”

“She was alright for you?”

“Yeah.”

Crusher nodded, didn’t push for more details. Ace was puzzled by that for a minute, as he wondered just why the hell he didn’t seem to be more concerned about his kid sister. Shouldn’t he be frantic with worry? After all, he didn’t have the first fucking
clue
what Derby might have been up to with Shay over the past ten days, didn’t know what kind of shape he might have left her in.

Ace knew for damn sure that Derby hadn’t hurt the girl, no matter how he was acting, but still…
Crusher
didn’t know that, did he? A bit of brotherly anxiety and protective rage wouldn’t be totally out of place here, considering the circumstances, and yet the man was as cool as a cucumber. Not one sign of worry, or temper, or concern.

Why not?

“So,” Crusher said now. “Where is she?”

Derby jerked his chin at a door. “Down the basement.”

“She been there the whole time?”

“Yep. Handcuffed to the bed mostly.”

Again, Ace watched Crusher for even a flicker of anger or anxiety at the news of his sister’s imprisonment and abuse; again, he saw evidence of neither of the above.

Again, why not?

“OK.” Crusher stomped across the room in about two strides, yanked the door open. “I’ll go talk to her.”

“You do that,” Kirk said. “Let me know if it all works out.”

Ace thought that
that
was an odd thing to say, and he saw that Derby also thought so. The two men exchanged glances, quickly looked away.

They watched Crusher head down the stairs, then they just stood around the kitchen, looking everywhere but at each other.

Warren was starting to lose the initial feeling of cautious optimism that Crusher had shown up here to see Shay. What was going on here felt – wrong.
All
wrong. He had no real idea what he meant by that, but his Spidey senses were doing way more than tingling right now. No, they were fucking
screaming
at him, and everything in his body wanted to get downstairs and see what the hell was happening.

Whatever it was, so long as Shay was safe, he’d deal with it.

He had no idea just how wrong he was going to be about
that
.

**

Shay stared up at her brother, totally stunned to see him looming over her. He was standing very still, not making any move towards her: not to uncuff her, not to check her out for injuries.
Definitely
not to give her a hug.

“Hal?”

“Hey.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, leaned against the wall. “Hi, Shay.”

Shay stared some more. What the
fuck
?

“You – you came for me.” She heard the disbelief in her own voice, hoped he wasn’t too offended by that. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t thank me yet.”

Right away, Shay tensed up.
Shit
. She knew
that
tone, she knew it far too well. It was the one that her brother used right before he started playing one of his fucked-up mind games with someone. He loved jerking people around, yanking them this way and that, twisting and turning them, until they had no idea what to expect next.

When he went for the kill – and she meant that quite literally – they never saw it coming.

And here she was, handcuffed to a bed. Helpless. Alone.

Goddammit
.

She forced herself to stay calm, decided to go for the element of surprise. Hell, maybe it’d even throw him a bit off-balance if she came at him first. She turned as best she could, to face him better. “Whatever it is, just spit it out, Hal.”

His eyebrows raised slightly, so she knew that she’d just blown his mind. “Mouthy bitch. I see some things haven’t changed.”

“And lots of things have.” She glared at him, though she was sure that its impact was severely lessened by being cuffed and prone on a bed. “I know you’re not here to take me home. So why are you
really
here?”

He crossed his arms across his massive chest, gave her a mock-hurt look. “But I
am
here to bring you home.”

She froze at his chosen word usage.

‘Bring’. Not ‘take’.

Bring.

“No,” she said softly. “Oh, no, no. Please.
Please
, Hal.
No
.”

“Caught on already, have you?” he said, his voice as soft as hers. “
That
didn’t take long.”

“But – but what about our deal?” she said, frantically grasping at straws. “I’m your alibi against that witness’ statement… there’s no statute of limitations on murder. You
need
me to be your alibi!”

“Not anymore, I don’t.” He grinned at her. “That witness is now dead. No witness, no crime. No crime, no need for your alibi.”

Shay stared at him. “Did you –”

“Nah. Didn’t have to.” He shrugged, totally uncaring. “The guy was a fucking drug dealer. Lived a dangerous life.”

“Hal.” She was going to beg now, to hell with pride. “Hal,
please
. Please don’t take me back to Utah. Back to… to the life.”

“And why not?” His light-green eyes – eyes so much like her own – were hard and steady. “You think you were ever
really
out, Shay? This whole time you’ve been prancing around Montana, going to school and playing teacher, going about your life like you were free… did you
actually
think that you were?”

“No,” she said quietly. “But I hoped.”

He snorted, ran a large hand through his blond hair. “Jesus Christ, woman. Just when I think you’ve grown a few brain cells and you know how it is, you go and say shit like that.”

“
Why
?” she cried. “Why take me back there? You
know
what it was like for me. You
know
I hated it.”

“I don’t give a shit
how
you feel about it,” he snapped. “You have dues to pay, and now’s the fucking time for you to do just that. The fact is that the club’s been damn good to me, and it was good to you, too. Fed you, clothed you, put a roof over your ungrateful head. The club made a lifelong commitment to me, and in return, I gave them my loyalty
and
yours.”