Redemption (4 page)

Chapter Three

I’ll take you down the only road I’ve ever been down

Jessa

I looked around the black van with the tinted windows and the heavy-duty-looking doors and knew it was bulletproof. I’d ridden in enough caravans to know. But those caravans had never driven this fast, gliding in the dark with a sleekness I hadn’t known was possible in such a large vehicle.

Of course, I had no idea where we were going, but since these two had killed all the men back there, they were in more trouble than I was.

Maybe.

I glanced over into the back, but I couldn’t see Charlie. Any guilt I might’ve had was quickly overcome when I thought of how he’d been so willing to throw me away. Six months of marriage reduced to a price.

He was going to sell you.

I couldn’t repeat it to myself enough, because I still had trouble believing it was true, and I was there to see it happen. But it
had
, unless I woke up tomorrow in my bed in the bunker, where the women tried to pretend that this was the real world, that everything was normal, that politics were still important. That the U.S.A. still had laws that people adhered to.

I knew too much and I’d keep my mouth shut and keep playing the victim, because I was one. And maybe, maybe, they’d turn us back over to Washington and play heroes.

I really didn’t want that to happen but I didn’t know what exactly to hope for—to ask for—at this point. So instead, I hugged my knees to my chest and I stared out the front window and I asked the simplest question I could. “Who are you?”

“I’m Bishop. He’s Mathias.”

Mathias, the dark-haired angel. I rolled his name around in my mind and kept my gaze forward. Thankfully, neither man turned back to look at me, but Mathias did make limited eye contact through the rearview mirror. I didn’t know if that was because he didn’t trust me not to turn around and free Charlie, but he didn’t have to worry. There was no way I’d help Charlie.

It was dark inside the back of the van, and that made me ultimately embrace it, letting it cover me like a warm blanket.

Charlie hadn’t moved at all. That didn’t mean he wasn’t awake and I wondered what he’d say if I answered all the questions Mathias and Bishop asked.

He’d have you arrested.
Which was better than him trying to sell me.

My belly was a tight knot, especially as I realized how close I’d been to being sold... “Who would that man have sold me to?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Bishop and Mathias kept their eyes straight ahead, but Mathias put a hand up and signed and, after a beat, Bishop translated.
Keller typically sells the women he gets to the Albanian mafia.
In Albania.
Because you’re important
...

“I’m going to be sick. Please pull over.”

They didn’t—not right away—and I held a hand over my mouth and tried to keep the bile down. These were suspicious men who no doubt thought I was trying to escape. “Please,” I managed and Mathias jerked the van to a stop.

I lunged for the door and Mathias was next to me, holding my hair and rubbing my back, a silent presence far stronger than any words could’ve been.

When I finished getting sick, he handed me a towel and water. He pulled the bottle from my lips when I started gulping. And finally, he handed me a piece of peppermint candy, the kind my grandmother used to keep in a dish on her dining room table. There were always butterscotch candies in there too, but the signature red-and-white candies were my favorites. Grandma always used to sneak them to me, then say, “You and me, Jessa, we’re so alike.”

We were, right down to our names. I thought about what she’d tell me now, how strong she’d had to be growing up and I knew that she was rooting for me. That she’d guide me, if I’d let her.

I’d never believed in that before, but I needed something to believe in out here, in the desolate world where everything I’d once known had changed. And even though I hadn’t liked my life before the Chaos, at least it had been the devil I knew.

Now, there were far too many devils and not enough angels. The man next to me was definitely a mix of both and my cheeks heated as I realized I’d been staring at him, studying him. He gave me a small grin, like he knew, like he was used to women staring at him that way, and I let him help me up off the dirt and back into the van.

Mathias finally unwrapped the candy for me and held it in front of my lips until I took it from him. The peppermint flooded my mouth, a comfort and a practicality for the nausea and the nasty taste in my mouth all at once. When he helped me back to the van, he put me into the passenger’s seat. Bishop was sitting where I’d been.

“Sitting up front makes you less carsick,” Bishop offered, even though we all knew that carsickness hadn’t been the only issue. But the more space I could put between me and Charlie, the better. I kept waiting for Mathias to tie my hands but he didn’t. When I drifted off to sleep, I thought maybe they’d drugged me with the water. The more likely culprit was the slow rock of the van, the radio, my head resting on the seat that was already in a perfect semi-reclined position.

For all I knew, these guys worked for my parents and were bringing me back to them. When I caught myself praying that wasn’t the case, I knew there were a lot of things I needed to figure out, and fast.

I woke, screaming and kicking. It only took a few moments to realize that I wasn’t gagged or in chains, the way I’d spent most of the past two weeks, at the LoV’s mercy.

Mathias was the first one to come into focus. He was signing to Bishop’s voice.
You’re all right
,
Jessa.
Take a breath.

I did. And I realized I was holding Mathias’s hand, his palm warm in mine. Holding it like we were lovers, like he was my lifeline, my fingers curled through his. I stared at our hands, fisted together, and I wondered if I’d ever understand any of this.

It’s a crazy time for everyone.

Bishop’s voice, Mathias’s free hand signing. I stared into Mathias’s dark eyes and I saw more understanding there than I ever had. “My grandmother would’ve reconsidered her stance on men for you.”

Bishop laughed—it had been a long time since I’d heard a real laugh—and he translated as Mathias signed,
Grandmothers aren’t really my type
,
but I’m guessing there’s a compliment in there somewhere.

“Definitely.” I was flirting with the violent angel in leather.
Flirting.
After I’d thrown up in front of him. After everything, I still felt the taut butterfly nerves in my belly. And despite everything, I liked it.

He looked like the other bikers, thanks to his tattoos, and there was a leather jacket on the seat next to me, although it didn’t have the name of any biker club on the back of his jacket. Granted, he drove a van and not a bike, but he had that air about him. Less vengeful and outwardly cruel, but he hadn’t shied away from violence.

Neither had I. What was happening to me? Were two weeks enough to turn me from a pampered girl into a fighter, or had she always been there, waiting for the right time?

My grandmother liked to say that necessity was the mother of invention. Until this moment, I’d never truly understood what that meant.

Finally, Mathias clicked on the radio and slid a CD in and “Enter Sandman” came on, loud, pounding music surrounding us.

It was a song about
exit lights
and
never-never land
that was terrifying and poetic all at once. I realized how much I’d missed music, having been without it for the past weeks. I absorbed the beat as I watched Mathias’s long fingers play along the wheel, tapping and strumming like he was creating the music. Like he was singing with his hands. He wore several heavy-looking silver rings on each hand. I couldn’t make out all the designs but there was the obligatory skull and his long fingers, doing inappropriate, mesmerizing things to my nervous system.

Chapter Four

You’re a mystery, always runnin’ wild

Mathias

The storm came on faster than I’d anticipated—you’d think I’d have taken shit like storms coming up out of nowhere into consideration, and normally it wouldn’t matter. Bish and I would park, hunker down and wait it out. But we had the president’s son and the VP’s daughter and we couldn’t take chances with either of them, even if I was ready to throw Charlie out of the van to fend for himself.

I didn’t slow down. The van charged through the rain and hail and the only concession I made was to put on the headlights I rarely used. Bish was sitting up between the seats watching the road with me, my right hand, my second pair of eyes. Jessa was tense as fuck.

She’d held it together really well, but that shit wouldn’t last long. She’d started to get quiet, which meant she was thinking too much. Men were dangerous when they got quiet, but quiet women could be the kiss of death, like a bomb with no way to detonate, Bish used to say and I’d argue back that there were ways. It’s just that each one was different. Each woman came with her own set of rules.

“I don’t like rules,” Bish would reply. Now, all he said was, “You okay?” to Jessa, and only because I’d signed it to her first.

She gave a small nod, said, “I’m not used to this,” in a tight voice.

How anyone could’ve been so sheltered during what seemed like a mix of the apocalypse and the second coming of Christ, I had no idea. None. But her eyes were wide and it was like she’d never seen weather like this.

I switched on the radio again—I’d turned it down when the weather got nasty and now the Metallica CD that drove Bish crazy (and was practically embedded in there) came on full blast. She jumped for a second, but it gave her something else to concentrate on besides the way the van hydroplaned, thanks to the wind-and-water combo.

“Is this...normal?”

“Where have you been living?” Bish asked bluntly. I glared at him in the rearview and he shrugged.

“Underground. In a bunker,” she admitted. “I wasn’t allowed out much at all. These past couple of weeks have been eye opening.”

I tried to digest that. Couldn’t imagine not knowing what the Chaos had been all about, but Jessa was from an entirely different world. Even though she’d held my hand and teased me about her grandmother, she was scared, maybe as much as she’d been with the LoV.

She’d seen what I was capable of. I rarely showed my hand so early to any woman. Most of the time, they only sensed what I could do when necessary.

Everyone wanted to be protected. Admitting it seemed to be the hard part for most people, which was something I never understood. There wasn’t any shame in wanting to feel safe. On the other hand, if I felt safe for too long, I got antsy. I needed the violence and danger the way others needed air and I’d certainly gotten more than my fair share in the past hour.

We’re close
, I signed and Bish translated. Then I signed only to Bish,
I’ll stay with her
and Bish signed back,
And I’ll do the dirty work with Caspar.

Caspar was the president of the MC, and he wasn’t going to be happy about the visitors we were bringing inside. If it wasn’t storming, we’d have been explaining it to him at the gates. So actually, I’d never been more grateful for a storm in my life, since it would buy us more time. If we were lucky, evidence of the burned bodies would be washed away. Bish had rolled the cars and the bikes into the lake, and with the added wind, they might sink or get pushed farther downstream. Eventually, the LoV and mafia would miss their people, but for now, we’d made it here, barely beating the start of the worst of the hail.

Now, I pulled the van through the gate using the remote code. The guards had already taken cover underground, watching us through the camera feed. Once I got to the warehouse, where I’d park, Bish got out and opened the doors for me to drive through, and I saw how hard it was for him to hold them back against the wind. I pulled in quickly and he shut the doors behind him with a loud bang. The wind buffeted the reinforced metal and Jessa hugged herself.

The warehouse was massive. The main floor was a giant maze of rooms off the large open parking garage where the cars and bikes were worked on as well as stored during storms. There was also a basement, which led to offshoots of the tubing systems. Charlie would be locked in here with us, but several soundproofed, windowless rooms over from where I’d stay with Jessa in the garage.

The other half of the garage was for the tubing, where the giant cranes and other machines were stored. Defiance had started building their heavy equipment from salvaged spare parts of construction equipment partially destroyed from the Chaos, because they were a necessity for their tubing business. When the tubes were done, Caspar would send teams out, in separate trucks. The tubes were assembled once on-site, because they were afraid they’d be ambushed if anyone saw them along the way. People would kill for the generators alone.

The warehouse had held up well enough after the initial Chaos, Caspar told us, and had since been further fortified. But being underground was always safer, which is where the rest of Defiance was, since the compound was on lockdown.

There was a trapdoor, but bringing an outsider down into the tubes wasn’t done, not even if they were in need of medical attention. The tubes were Defiance’s last and greatest defense and letting a stranger see what exactly we had down there would be a mistake of epic proportions.

Rules were in place for a reason. Letting our guard down could harm Defiance, and that was one rule I understood.

I’d send Bish down to let Caspar know what the hell happened at the lake, but Jessa and I would have to ride out the storm here, unless something happened. Like the warehouse collapsing. In which case, I guess going underground wouldn’t matter since we’d be dead.

But for now, I was the one to distract Jessa from...everything. Including and especially the fact that Charlie was still tied up and drugged, that Bish was currently taking him out of the van and carrying him to a room where he could be tied more securely, and locked in.

Thankfully, she was too engrossed in looking at the rows of motorcycles, and the music was loud enough to mask the sounds of the van doors opening and closing.

Even though she wasn’t jumping at every sound now, she was more tense than when we were driving. Grudgingly, I pulled out the alphasmart device I hated, but Bish kept charged for situations like this.

I typed in,
It’s all right.
We’re prepared for this
, and I showed it to her.

“Okay,” she managed. “I just don’t like storms.”

Are you ready to talk about what happened out there?

She countered with, “I want to know where I am. Defiance? Is that another gang?” I typed
MC
and then pointed to all the Harleys lined up around the warehouse floor. “What’s the difference between an MC and a gang?”

These days, sometimes the line was thin, but there was a difference. For one thing...
motorcycles.

That got a slight smile out of her. And then she said, “The Lords are an MC too, right?”

I nodded.
They’re not like Defiance.

“I want to believe you.” She glanced around. “I have to admit, I was expecting to be tied up the second we got here. Not that I’m giving you any ideas.”

I gave her a grin, mainly because I was picturing her in a far different tied-up position than she was thinking about. It must’ve shown on my face because half a second later, she blushed and gave me a shy look. “God, you’re a flirt.”

I shrugged. I really wasn’t. I just couldn’t remember ever being this blown away by any woman, the way I’d been from the first moment I’d laid eyes on her.

Bish would tell me it was because I didn’t get laid enough. He went to Kat’s—the local brothel—a lot. I couldn’t. Even though the women there were happy and willing, it was too fucking sad to me. So I got a few blowjobs from the local Defiance women during parties, but as long as I got to fight, I didn’t need a lot of sex.

But now, my blood was goddamned pumping. Jessa was too close and smelled too damned good, somehow, even through the smell of fear and blood and dirt.

“Can I...get out? Stretch my legs?” she asked and when I nodded, she did just that. While she wandered around, I set up the air mattress in the van—kept the back door half opened, because sometimes small spaces were more comforting. The motorcycle I normally stored back there was being restored by Rebel, so there was a lot more room than normal.

I caught Bish heading back my way out of the corner of my eye. He took a look at the mattress and back at me with an eyebrow cocked.

What?
I
figured she might want to sleep
,
or maybe talk more.
And then I can get her to answer my questions.

Not going to answer without some major coaxing
, Bish signed discreetly and raised his eyebrows.
I’m guessing you’re up for coaxing.

I shot him the finger and he smiled as he signed,
Yeah
,
thought so.

Defiance had gone through hell and had crawled out. But no one was left unscathed.
Charlie secured?

“Of course.”

What if Caspar tells us to go?

“We go,” Bish spoke now, his voice low.

And her?

“Could take her if she wants to go. Could leave her with Tru.” Bish glanced toward the door that led to the tubes. “You all right staying with her for now?”

More than okay, and Bish knew it, only kept probing to see me squirm.
Asshole.

“Always said you’d fall for someone in a goddamned split second.”

Shut the fuck up.

Bish smiled and then went serious. “Got your back.”

You never have to say it.

“Sometimes, I want to.”