Hell's Knights (16 page)

“Spike, there’s some bikes behind me,” Chey says in a panicked voice.

“Fuck,” Spike growls lifting his head enough to look out the back of the car.

“Is it them?” I ask, reaching into my jeans for my gun.

“Fuckin’ mother fucker. It’s them all right, with back up. There’s at least twenty of them.”

Fuck.

“Keep drivin’, Chey,” I say gently to the woman having a panic attack in the front of the car.

“Spike, I’m frightened,” she wails.

“Baby, you’re gonna be just fine,” Spike soothes her, but his eyes are wide and panicked.

“Oh God, I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t want to,” she sobs.

“Hey, Chey, listen to me, yeah? You’re gonna be just fine. It’s fine. You just keep drivin’, sugar, just keep drivin’,” I say to her, using my best comforting voice; even though right now, I’m anything but comforted.

“I say pull over,” Spike growls in my ear. “Let me face them. It’s me they want.”

“They’ll fuckin’ kill you,” I hiss.

“I’m not riskin’ her.”

“I won’t pull over!” Chey cries, picking up speed.

“Chey, baby, do as I ask,” Spike orders.

“No, I won’t hand you to them,” she cries, high pitched and frightened. “I won’t let you die.”

“We gotta pull over, Chey, pull over,” Spike pushes.

“No!”

“Spike, she’s right. We can’t pull over,” I hiss in his ear. “They’ll blow your fuckin’ brains out as soon as you step outta this car.”

“Oh God!” Chey cries.

“It’s me or they’re goin’ to fuckin’ blow this car!”

“We’re on a highway. They won’t do anythin’ while we remain on it.”

“Cade, you’re fuckin’ wrong about this. It’s the wrong call. We need to pull over.”

“I won’t fuckin’ sit back and let my best friend die,” I roar at him.

“Stop it!” Chey screams. “Just stop! I won’t pull over!”

“Pull over!” Spike bellows. “Now, Cheyenne!”

“No!”

My heart is thudding so loudly I can hear it in my head. We’re fucked. We’re royally fucked. Spike grips the door handle, but I lunge at him, gripping him around the neck and hurling him backwards. That’s when the shot rings out. Just one single shot. For a moment, I think it was just a warning shot, until I realize we’re covered in blood. It’s everywhere, on the roof, on the seats, on us. Spike’s eyes are wide; he’s just stopped moving. The whites in his eyes keep getting bigger and bigger, like he’s in shock. My stomach drops. My buddy, they’ve shot him, fuck,
no
. Then he opens his mouth, and he screams. He screams so loudly my ears begin ringing. It’s only then, I realize what he’s screaming about.

It wasn’t Spike who was shot.

It was Cheyenne.

Slowly, my mind registers what’s happening. When my eyes fall on the front seat of the car, I see so much blood it’s hard to see anything else. Then I see her, Cheyenne, missing half of her head. They shot her, clean in the back of the head. She’s dead. It’s her blood covering us. Spike’s screams pierce my ears, and I can’t react, all I can do is stare as the car begins spinning wildly out of control. When it begins to roll, I finally give in to the shock ripping through my body. Cheyenne is dead. She’s dead and it’s my fault. I let my best friend’s wife die. I as good as killed her.

When the car smashes into a tree, I let everything go black.

It’s easier that way.

~*PRESENT*~

I’m crying. No, I’m heaving. When Cade has finished telling me his story, I can hardly breathe. I’ve never heard something so gut wrenching in my life. It all makes sense to me now. God, poor Cade, poor Spike, poor Cheyenne. My heart breaks a little for each of them. I swipe my tears from my eyes, and I try to focus on Cade. He’s staring out the window, his body heaving. The guilt he’s holding, it’s huge. He blames himself for Chey’s death. I can understand why he blames himself, but he was trying to do the right thing. It’s not on him, though I understand why he can’t see that.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, reaching out and placing my hand on his back.

He’s sitting now, he got up mid-way through telling his story. He flinches when my fingers slide down his back.

“I killed my best friend’s wife,” he says in a voice devoid of all emotion.

“No, you didn’t.”

He turns, and when his eyes fall on mine, they’re glassy and red. “Yeah, I fuckin’ did. I forced them into that car. I didn’t let him stop when he wanted to.”

“If you didn’t leave, it could have ended the same way. If you had let Spike out, do you think you wouldn’t be carrying the same guilt when they did the same to him?”

Cade closes his eyes a moment, then opens them. “He hates me for it, and he has every fuckin’ right.”

“He can hate you, and yeah, maybe he does have the right, but he should hate himself too. He put himself in that situation, therefore putting his wife in it, too.”

“He went through hell afterwards. Her family tried to put him in jail. He also lost a baby when she died. He lost everything he believed in.”

“And he lost you.”

Cade flinches. “I’ll never forgive myself for it. I see her face every time I close my eyes. She haunts me.”

“She wouldn’t hate you, you know.”

He shakes his head. “No, that’s the fuckin’ painful thing. She wouldn’t hate me. She would tell me it was her choice. That she was the one who wanted it. Cheyenne was beautiful like that.”

“I don’t think you’re a bad person, Cade.”

He turns to look at me. “Why do you have to be so fuckin’ understandin’?”

“Because I’ve lived with pain, guilt and horror before. I know how it feels to be trapped in it. You’re not a bad person. You’re only human, and sometimes, we don’t make the right choices.”

He cups my face. “I could so easily love you sugar, you’re testin’ every part of me. I’m fallin’ fuckin’ hard.”

I tremble at his words and every hair on my body stands on end. Did he just say he could love me? I mean, truly love me? He must be mistaken. He’s feeling lust, and getting it confused with falling in love. Noticing my expression, Cade turns my face and lets his eyes scan my face.

“Sugar, you look like you’re about to pass out. Breathe.”

I swallow over and over, unable to push the words from my head. He could love
me
. This can’t be right, surely there’s a mistake.

“You reactin’ like this ‘coz I said I’m fallin’ in love with you, yeah?”

I nod, feeling my eyes sting.

“Ain’t never had someone say that, and truly mean it, have you?”

I shake my head, and struggle to get a breath in.

“Well, I mean it, sugar, with everything I am. I don’t love easily, and I sure as shit don’t tell people when it’s happenin’. You’re different You’ve been different since the moment you walked into that compound.”

“That’s so cliché,” I say, then burst out into a fit of nervous giggles.

Cade chuckles, and leans down, kissing my lips softly. “Cliché I can do for you, sugar.”

“Now that’s love,” I whisper.

His green eyes scan my face, and then he leans forward and presses his lips to mine. We kiss softly for a long moment, just comforting each other in the only way we know how.

“Who is Ciara?” I ask when we finally pull apart.

“Ciara is Cheyenne’s sister.”

Oh. My. God.

“Why is she basically under the protection of the bikers?”

“Her and Spike don’t exactly see eye to eye. They have had more run ins then I can begin to count. She blamed him.”

“She doesn’t blame you?” I whisper.

“No. She thinks if Spike never married Chey, like they all wanted, then it wouldn’t have happened. He was warned away from her; he didn’t listen. Back then, Spike lived a far more dangerous life then he lives now. He was muddled up in some fucked up shit, and that’s how it ended for him.”

“And now Ciara hates him?”

“Ciara blamed him, but she doesn’t hate him. From what I know, Ciara had a massive crush on Spike before Chey came into the picture. Part of their issue goes back to that. The reason we protect her, is because when they start on each other, it’s hard to stop it.”

“Sounds complicated,” I murmur.

“It’s beyond complicated, sugar.”

I lay down on my pillow with a deep yawn. I’m exhausted and emotionally drained. Cade gives me a small grin, and leans down, brushing his lips across my head. “Get some sleep, yeah? I’ll be downstairs.”

“What?” I say, rubbing my eyes to stop them from closing.

“I’m not leavin’ you in a house alone when that crazy fucker is out there.”

“You can’t just sit downstairs and wait.”

He gives me a look. “Can’t I?”

“Cade…”

“Sugar…”

“Jackson will be home soon, I won’t sleep if you’re sitting down there alone.”

“Then I’ll sit here and watch you.”

“That’s creepy,” I grumble.

“Sugar, I’m fuckin’ stayin’. Now shut the fuck up, and get some sleep.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You know, you could say it nicely.”

“Nah, sugar. Only way that works with you is when I tell it how it is. Now close your eyes and sleep.”

“Yes, boss.”

He gives me a stern look, so with a sigh I close my eyes. I’m out before either of us can get another word in.

I guess I was exhausted.

~*PRESENT*~

There’s so much blood. It’s everywhere. I’m screaming, but no one can hear me. Why won’t anyone help me? I’m trapped. There’s so much blood I can’t find my way out. It’s everywhere. On the walls, on the floor, and the roof. God, I can’t escape it. I crawl, trying desperately to find a way out of this hell. I can hear screaming, high pitched, frightened. It’s filling my mind, burning into me. I shake my head from side to side. Please stop, just stop so I can get out.

“Snake, there you are.”

Jasper is suddenly in front of me, and at his feet is a dead woman. I scream at the sight of the gaping hole in her head. I can still hear screaming. It’s a man.

“Cheyenne!” the voice cries, and I realize it’s Spike.

The woman on the floor is Cheyenne, and the blood is hers. Jasper steps closer to me as I try to crawl away.

“I’ll find you, snake, and this will be you.”

God, help me, someone help me.

“Please, let me go!” I cry.

I bump into something, and I look down to see another dead body. It’s Cheyenne again. How did she get here? I scream, but no sound comes out. Suddenly, her face is my mother’s. Her skin is blue. She’s struggling to breathe. I scream, this time it’s ear splitting.

“Cheyenne,” Spike screams again.

“Snake, you’re mine,” Jasper growls. “I’ll kill you.”

I bolt upright, screaming. My hands frantically grab at the sheets. I can’t breathe. It hurts to even try. The door swings open, and Jackson comes running in, shirtless, sleep ruffled and waving a gun around.

“The fuck?” he roars.

I’m panting and sweating. The dream, it was awful. I wrap my arms around myself and I begin to cry. Jackson lowers the gun when he realizes there’s no one in the room.

“Addi?” he says gently.

“It was just a dream,” I croak through my tears.

“Ah shit,” he murmurs, walking over to the side of the bed and wrapping his arms around me. I fall into him, and I begin to cry harder.

“Cade told me about Cheyenne tonight, and it just brought up so much for me. I killed her, Dad. I let her die right in front of me. I didn’t call an ambulance. I didn’t stick my fingers down her throat to make her sick it all up. I just let her die.”

“She fucked you up. When someone fucks you up that bad, you don’t wanna save them. What you did, anyone would have done.”

“She was my mother,” I wail.

“She gave birth to you. Didn’t make her your fuckin’ mother – it takes far more than that to be a mother.”

“I let her die.”

“You set her free.”

I flinch, his words hitting me to my very core.

“Do you think that’s the life she dreamed of having?” he says gently. “It’s not. The short while I knew your ma, told me that she never wanted any of that. When you’re so wrapped up in something like that, you can’t escape it. She had no way out. She was stuck and you gave her a way out. You set her free. You truly did send her to a better place.”

“It doesn’t make what I did right,” I say in a hoarse voice.

“No, it doesn’t, but it helps you deal.”

“Did you love her?”

He pulls back and stares down at me. “Only woman I ever loved.”

“Why?”

He gives me a half smile, but it’s pained. “She was nothin’ like you described her. To me, she was Emily. Sweet, caring, loving, Emily. She didn’t do horrible things. She loved you. Heck, she loved me. The woman you speak of, that wasn’t the woman I got a glimpse of. Each time you talk about her, I lose a little part of the woman I remember.”

“Am I hurting you?”

He grips my face. “You’ve been hurtin’ me every fuckin’ day since she took you, and now, you hurt me each day you look at me with those broken eyes. You hurt me, ‘coz I wasn’t there to fuckin’ save you when you needed savin’.”

“You didn’t know,” I rasp.

“Don’t make it any easier.”

“You’re here now.”

He nods and sucks in a deep breath. He stands. Clearly, the emotions of it are too much for him.

“Never told you this, Addi, ‘coz I was too proud, but I should have told you the minute you broke into my compound and stepped into my shed.”

I give a weak giggle.

“I should have told you that I love you, and I’ve loved you since the second I laid eyes on you. Ain’t never changed, and it never fuckin’ will.”

Only a biker can use the word fuckin’ in the same sentence as I love you, and make it sound breathtaking. I smile up at him, even though I’m still crying.

“You know, I think I might just love you too, old man.”

He chokes a laugh and shakes his head. “’Nuff of this sappy shit. You’re makin’ a girl of me. You need me to get you something?”

I shake my head. “No, you’re giving me enough.”

He nods and then digs into his jeans pocket, he pulls out a fifty and thrusts it at me.