Salvation (8 page)

Chapter Eleven

True to Bishop’s word, there were two guards standing outside the garage. They shook Bishop’s hand, said hello to her as if they’d been expecting her. Bishop led her inside the empty garage space.

It was large, and it continued in almost a railroad apartment fashion, with a closed door she could see a few garages down.

“I’m the only one working today?” she asked.

“Keller probably did that on purpose, so you’d feel comfortable,” Bishop told her.

“So what, he’s really a great guy?”

Bishop didn’t answer her, so she stopped worrying about Keller and instead took in the space. Because it was at least familiar here—among the sights and smells and sounds of the garage, the tools, the smell of gasoline and oil and exhaust—scents she associated with inherently male beings.

There was a single car waiting to be fixed. The hood was open, the guts of the motor splayed out sadly on a table next to it. She leaned in, began touching the parts that were left and came out covered in oil. She didn’t bother to wipe much of it off, just her fingers with an old rag as she glanced over the parts for a few long minutes, then asked, “Do you know anything about cars?”

When there was no answer, she turned to find him leaning against the car, staring at her like she was from Mars.

“I mean, not every guy can fix cars. I know you know about weapons and things, but cars and bikes are different animals,” she continued. “Why are you just looking at me like that?”

He still didn’t say anything, but pushed off the car bumper and moved over to the workbench. There were parts laid out, an engine rebuild in process and from the looks of things, someone was fucking up royally.

Bishop’s gaze took it all in before he picked up a piece and put it aside. Then he touched the engine briefly, put his fingers on three different places and shook his head.

Okay, question answered. He did know what he was doing. She nodded her approval and out of habit, she started taking apart the engine. The way it was cobbled together, the poor person behind the wheel of whatever car it was going into would end up stranded.

In the old days, that would’ve been an inconvenience. Today, it could prove deadly. She lost herself in the work and it took her several minutes when she was just about finished to realize that Bishop had turned the music on. She blinked, came to surrounded by strains of “Enter Sandman,” Mathias’s favorite song and Bishop’s least. But the fact that he played it, the fact that he played it for her...

She turned around, pushed herself into his arms and kissed him. He didn’t care that she was covered in grease and oil and he didn’t care that she found the inside of a garage a giant turn-on. He’d always known that about her, and he’d accepted it. Maybe he even liked it.

Correction—obviously liked it, judging by the way he’d commandeered the kiss.

“You need to get to work,” he told her when he pulled back. “I’ll come get you in a few hours, walk you back. You need me, tell one of the guards outside the door. They’ll be here as long as you are, and they know how to reach me.”

She took a deep breath. “I’ll be okay.”

“Which one of us are you trying to convince?”

“Me, I guess.”

He kissed her forehead. “You’ll be fine, Luna.”

She held onto those words after he closed the door, leaving her alone. The car engine took her maybe an hour. She wondered if it was pulled apart like that on purpose, as a test to see if she knew what she was doing.

Obviously she did, since she got the car to run smoothly. And then there was nothing left to do. She looked in every nook and cranny, noting the various car parts and other various supplies Keller kept stocked here.

But if it was always like this, there was definitely not enough here to keep her busy.

Since no one told her she couldn’t walk through the garage, she did so, hesitantly at first. When no alarms went off, and the guards didn’t rush in, she traveled through the four open spaces that held the lifts and identical work stations to the one she’d first been in.

As she wandered back to her original space, she noticed a door along the back wall of the garages. She figured it had to be to the outside, although the configuration of the garage didn’t make much sense for that to be true. Hesitantly, she knocked softly, then more loudly. When no one answered, she tried the knob and found it turned easily.

She eased the door open a few inches, enough to peer into what turned out to be another section of garage. She saw the ghost of a car in the dark and reached her hand inside to the wall to find the light. Not all of them worked, she’d discovered, but this one did, shone down a bright florescent light onto the car on display.

She couldn’t help herself—she walked right into the room and over to the car. Realized after running her hands over it that she’d been holding her breath while doing so. Cars like this were a major turn-on, but also held a certain amount of reverence for her.

And this one was a beauty, a 2000 Cadillac El Dorado. Black, with gray interior. It was in prime condition, although there was some refinishing needed. It was that way with this world—it was rough on people and things.

Right now, it was pretty but useless because the engine was ripped out and the transmission needed rebuilding, and it was far more complicated than the car she’d put together earlier. But the guts were all here...

“You like her.”

Keller’s voice. She stiffened, forced herself to turn around and not put her hand in her pocket where the knife was. The panic dissipated when she saw he was smiling. Genuinely smiling, almost like a little boy, proud to show off his treasure.

“I love her,” she said honestly. “I’m sorry—I should’ve asked permission.”

“Always better to ask forgiveness than permission. You know that, Luna.”

“I guess I do.”

He walked over to the car, touched the bumper. “This was my son’s—Victor’s. He hired a few people to rebuild it over the years, but they weren’t working to his satisfaction. He was tough. Particular.”

“Like father, like son?”

He smiled. “You’re not afraid of me?”

Oh, she most definitely was, but instead of saying so, she asked, “Should I be?”

“All I want is for people to enjoy themselves. Don’t we all deserve that now?”

She thought about it and nodded. “Is this why you brought me here, to the garage? To enjoy myself with the cars?”

“Yes. Obviously, I don’t have a lot of people I hire to do this work. There’s not a need, but there are also few skilled mechanics. And obviously, I need to hire people I can trust not to fix a car in a way that could kill me. Purposely.”

She hadn’t thought about it like that, how much of a target Keller must be. She’d been trained to hate him for the past four years—and all of that definitely wasn’t forgotten...but in this, her second interaction with him one-on-one, he was nothing like she’d thought.

Or maybe he was a good actor. “I finished the other car.”

“Yes, I know. But this one’s going to take a lot longer.”

“You want me to work on the Caddy?” she asked, almost breathlessly.

“Yes. Take your time. Let my men know if you need parts procured. You’ll be here for a while. I want you and Bishop happy.”

“Do you think fighting makes him happy?” The words came out before she could stop them, but Keller didn’t look upset when he answered seriously, “Yes.”

After a pause, he told her, “We both know that’s true.”

She did, and that’s what worried her. Bishop used the fights to exorcize the violence that bubbled up inside of him...and she knew it might not be enough. She was worried that killing, the way he’d done at the fight was enough...enough to drive him over that edge Mathias was so worried about.

Chapter Twelve

Keller left her alone to drool over the car more. There were other things she’d wanted to ask him, but she felt like she’d be pushing her luck, so she hadn’t.

She sat inside the car—inside Victor’s car—and thought about the fact that either Bishop or Mathias had killed Keller’s son. Did Keller know that for sure? Because he didn’t seem to be holding that against Bishop, and it was things like that which made her slam down to reality, to wonder what the hell kind of place she was in. And why she was weirdly happy.

In between the panic attacks.

“Maybe you’re just nuts, Luna,” she told herself. Heard Rebel’s voice echoing the same sentiment inside her head. God, she missed him.

She thought about what she’d be doing right now in Defiance—huddled alone in the garage, preferring to work there after the guys retired for the night, even though they didn’t mind having her around. They’d accepted her even before Tru returned and Caspar began letting women take on more of a role in the community job arena.

And then Aimee was attacked and everything changed. Again.

“Hey.” She looked up to see Bishop, leaning into the open window. “So this is your idea of work?”

“Funny.” She pushed out of the car and he stepped aside to let her out. “Keller wants me to fix this one up next.”

A fleeting expression crossed Bishop’s face, too fast for her to read it. “You ready to head out?”

Obviously he was, since he turned and started to walk out. She caught up with him quickly, grabbing her jacket and pulling it on as they walked. It was colder tonight than last night. “When do we get the sun here?”

“Two more days.”

His tone was clipped. “Are you pissed I’m working on Victor’s car?”

He didn’t say anything about that. But he stopped along a spot that had multiple picnic tables, with heaters around them. He sat on the table and asked, “How’s Mathias doing?”

She shoved her hands in her pockets. “He misses you a lot. He’s so happy with Jessa but...”

Bishop nodded, rubbed his ungloved hands together. There was light from a streetlamp of sorts several yards away and it threw a little bit of light their way, enough for her to see the bruises on his hands. “Jessa? She’s good for him, yeah?”

“Very. Every day, they get more connected. She misses you too. She told me that she feels like a piece of her is missing too.”

“Yeah, we got close,” he agreed.

“She’s also...exploring,” she told him as she searched for the right word. Bishop raised his brows. “Not other guys, but what she wants to be when she grows up.”

“Guess she’s not into fixing bikes.”

“It’s not the most glamorous job.”

“You make it look hot,” he told me.

“Stop it. I saw those women waiting outside your place last night.”

“You weren’t here, Luna—you knew I wasn’t an angel.”

“So invite a harem?”

“Even in Defiance, you didn’t seem to care about other women. You were relieved.”

“They didn’t disrespect me in Defiance.”

“True. Last night they were definitely challenging you. I’m not going to take away their fun.”

Asshole.
“Did anything happen?”

“You know the answer to that. And they weren’t you,” he told her. “The more I tried to pretend they were, the worse it got.”

“Oh.” To hear him admit that twisted her heart up, in a good way.

“Any secrets you’d like to share?”

“Not really.”

“Good. Keep it all bottled up inside. That’s working well for you.”

“Fine.” She threw her hands up. “You really want to do this here?”

“Sure, why not.”

No one was paying attention to them. Not really, although there were women giving Bishop longing glances as they walked by.

Bishop was holding a lot of secrets. She knew that. When he was ready, he might share. But she didn’t want to share. She also didn’t want anything to do with any of these worlds. She was so tired of fighting everything and everyone, including herself. “I don’t like it here, Bishop. But these days, I don’t like it anywhere.”

“Yeah, I got that. You hated Defiance enough to run here, though. And you have friends in Defiance.”

“You’re not a friend?”

“I never said that.”

She sighed, wondering if she could make him understand something she didn’t quite understand herself. “Who do I have—Tru? She left. Comes back and just expects that everyone will accept her.”

“You did,” Bishop reminded her.

She jutted her chin at him. “Look at the hell she brought to Defiance.”

“I don’t deny that, Luna. But if it wasn’t her, it would’ve been me and Mathias. It was me and Mathias. And don’t think that Keller asking you to fix Victor’s car isn’t a goddamned message.”

* * *

For a long moment, Luna didn’t say anything. The silence grew between them as her expression shuttered.

He knew her unease really didn’t have anything to do with him or Keller, not as much as it was about the all consuming helplessness that culminated with what happened to Aimee. What happened before Aimee, which was something he’d surmised rather than had been told.

It was a helplessness he understood all too well. And while it wasn’t anything he relished thinking about, never mind talking about, there would be no escaping it.

But tonight, that wasn’t happening.

“Keller knows for sure that you and Mathias...” she started.

“It was me,” he said bluntly. “Could’ve easily fallen to Mathias, but Victor stepped in my path first, so I killed him. And I told Keller that before I signed that final paper.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t kill you on the spot.”

“You think I was going to stay here for a year, worrying about that? I’ve got enough reasons to look over my shoulder, but I’ll be damned if that’s one of them,” he said.

“That’s insane. All of this is insane. Keller lets you fight because he knows you like it. What else do you do for him that you like?”

“I’m making it work, Luna. You don’t get to come here and be my conscience, all right? Fuck that. I’m going to survive any way I need to. And I’ll get you through it, but you’ve got to make up your own mind. This can be heaven or it can be hell, maybe a little of both all at once, but if you really want out, I’ll break you the fuck out.”

“And what kind of consequences will you pay?”

They’d be severe. He’d be beaten publicly. Those public whippings happened pretty frequently. Anyone who disrupted the peace of what Keller created here wasn’t immune to that punishment. As violent as he was, as violent as his world outside this compound was, once inside here, he wanted it a safe cocoon.

In return, he had a lot of people’s undying respect.

“Does he have yours?” she asked when he told her that.

“At times, yeah. He’s a businessman. You’d do well to listen to him.”

“Bishop, what the hell’s gotten into you?” For the first time, she looked like she really regretted driving into the compound.

“The same thing that needs to get into you, Luna. Play the fucking game, all the time, and not just when it suits you, like when you get a pretty car to fix.” He slid off the table, because she’d started to shiver. Might be the cold, or the hard truths, but either way, he got her back to the entrance to his underground place.

Before they went underground, she told him, “I can’t tell Keller I won’t work on it.”

“I didn’t ask you to. And no, you can’t. It’s okay to be excited to work on it, message to me or not. Because it’s also a message to you, because he’s never let anyone touch it.”

She stared at him. “So the message isn’t, fuck this up and I’ll kill you?”

“No. He’s trying to tell you he’s a reasonable person, in his own really fucked up way.”

“That’s what worries me. Because he did seem reasonable, and all the while he’s asking you to do things in the name of his business.”

He turned to look at her. “You’re getting along with him. Fixing his car...”

“So?”

“So when I tell you what you want to know about my full role here with Keller, that’ll change everything. And you’ve got to live here for a while, Luna. You’ve got it pretty damned good at this point.”

“You’re worried I’ll fuck it up.”

“I know you will. Because I have to try every damned day not to.” He shook his head. “Let me carry the burden of what he does. Retain the last bit of innocence.”

“Is there a possibility you’re never leaving?”

He glanced at her. “There always was.”

“That’s why you told Keller to take you instead of Mathias.”

Instead of answering that directly, he said, “I never figured you’d show.”

“Would that have bothered you?”

“You and Mathias were the only reasons I didn’t want to leave,” he admitted.

* * *

When he said that, Luna moved toward him, fitted herself against him. “Please, tell me what else you do here. You’re all I have. I want to be here for you too. But you have to tell me things.”

He studied her for a long moment, then told her bluntly, “Most of the time, I collect money from people who don’t want to pay, and things get rough. But I kill for him when he needs me to.”

“So the fighting?”

“I like it. I need it. And I get paid for it. The money I make for collecting is what’s paying back Defiance’s debt. Mathias would’ve been fighting for ten years to make that back,” he explained.

“Mathias is violent too.”

“In a different way. It’s complicated. Trust me—I’m the right one to be here. This would’ve ruined him.”

She stroked his cheek. “He says the same thing about you.”

“I’ll bet he does,” he murmured.

“How often do you go out for Keller?” she asked.

“Depends. It’s not about a certain amount of money equals every kill I make,” he said. “It’s more about the year. One year and my service is over. And he’s going to pack as much as he can into that year.”

“So you go out alone?”

“No. I take one of his men with me. Another assassin and collector—his name’s Declan. He’s cool. Worked for Keller for a long time. You’ll meet him, I’m guessing.”

She wasn’t sure she wanted that. It was hard to tell the good from the bad here—maybe that was the point. Maybe what she’d always known as good and bad was always just a construct. Because the man who’d molested her was known as the greatest guy ever, according to the men in the club.

He opened the trap door, motioned for her to go first. He followed her down the ladder, let her into his rooms and locked the door behind them. By the time she turned around, he was taking off his shirt. Unbuttoning his jeans. Telling her, “You can’t change what I do here, Luna.”

“Then what can I do?”

“What you’ve been wanting to all day.”

She didn’t deny it. She had been thinking about him all day—her body tingling, the way it always did in his presence. When he’d left, it’d been worse, like he’d marked her, ruined her in a way she’d never known existed.

Ruined from pleasure. She’d never thought that could happen for her, the way it did for Tru and Jessa, even Aimee.

Now, he was with her, stripping down for her. Holding back, letting her take the lead.

“Tell me what you want.”

“You, on the bed,” she told him. He didn’t hesitate, his big body moving gracefully onto the mattress until he was leaning against the pillows.

“Handcuffs in the drawer,” he told her.

She tilted her head at him, waiting for him to laugh but he didn’t. So she checked the drawer and found the handcuffs with the long chain. “You use these often?”

“On the bad guys, yeah.”

She moved to kneel on the bed next to him, and he put his hands around the slats of the headboard. “You want me to do this?”

“Yeah.” He gave her a half smile. It was apparent how turned on he was—his eyes were heavy lidded, glossy with lust. His cock was hard and thick, jutting out as she tied him. His arms were above his head, the handcuff chain threaded through the headboard. Then she clicked the final cuff around his wrist and she put the keys on the table, out of his reach.

He stretched out, a big contented cat. She was fully clothed, more excited than she’d been in forever. She quickly stripped down to just her underwear, pressed herself against him and suckled his nipple.

He bucked under her. “One of these days, Luna, I’m going to take you. You won’t fight me when it’s time.” His voice was a growled rasp, thrummed through her like the strongest liquor.

She knew he was right. But for now, she took full advantage, kissing her way along his chest. Biting his hip. Stroking his cock while he groaned with pleasure.

“I love watching you get off,” she told him, her hand moving faster. He closed his eyes and he came, like he was doing so on her command. Before he even opened his eyes, she was touching herself with one hand, using the keys to free his hands with the other.

When they opened with a click, she told him, “Help me, Bishop.”

His eyes glowed. His hand splayed on her hip and she breathed in slowly, watching his every move. Her body shuddered as his hand dragged up her inner thigh, only to put his hand over hers while she touched herself. She blew out a breath as his mouth went to her nipple, and he urged her hand to move faster as he helped her come.

She’d wanted him to really touch her, but she wasn’t there quite yet. She was so damaged and he accepted it. Worked with it. Didn’t push her. He’d lain here at night, imagining sex between them would be different.

Had she disappointed him?

Judging by the satisfied look on his face, she didn’t think so.

* * *

Bishop had been submissive before, got off on it too. For Luna, he knew he’d have to tread lightly.

Their first meeting was magical, their second, more down to earth. And then she freaked and still, he wouldn’t let her off the hook.

But when it came time to save her MC, to pay for the fact that he’d been part of the reason Keller was coming down hard on the MC, he’d stepped in to offer himself. Because Mathias had Jessa. And Jessa needed him.

“You had Rebel.”

“I needed you,” she said.

“I didn’t know that.”

“But you were still willing to do anything in your power to make sure I was okay.”