Page 39 of Broken Skulls (Rebel Skull MC #7)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Elizabeth

M y mouth hangs open as I watch Dirk take an axe to the large window at the Harley dealership. The alarm instantly goes off. He doesn’t give two fucks. His tattoos ripple with sweat as he swings it again, the glass shattering in a thousand pieces around him.

Raffe and Jackson step through the window with him. The rest of the club waits on their bikes as they search the office.

“Won’t the cops show up?” I ask Jacob.

“Eventually,” he says.

The men come out a few minutes later. Dirk holds up a piece of paper with butt fuck’s face on it. “This him?” he asks me.

“That’s him.”

He taps me lightly on the chest with the folder. It’s his way of saying thank you.

This is the only reason they brought me along. I wonder if Jacob will take me back to the warehouse now.

Jackson waves Dirk in front of him, letting him take the lead before heading out onto the highway.

Jacob looks over his shoulder at me. “You don’t leave my side.”

I nod.

The sun drops behind the mountains as we turn on a road that looks like it leads to nowhere. A hand painted sign hangs haphazardly from a post. It reads: Hold onto your teeth. Potholes ahead.

It would be funny if it wasn’t true.

The group has to slow down.

It’s dark by the time we reach our destination, which is an old building in what looks like a ghost town.

Jacob parks on the street. “Never thought I’d be in this shithole again,” he mumbles as he helps me off the bike.

I look up at the faded sign above the door. Big Dan’s Tattoo Shop.

“Fucking Trap County? You’ve got to be kidding me,” Raffe joins Jacob in his grumbling at where we find ourselves.

Dirk bites the lid off of a marker, slamming a dirty paper bag against the window. “The house is here.” He draws several lines and then an x, marking the address on butt fuck’s employee record.

“Do you think it’s someone from her past?” Big Dan asks.

Dirk hands him the record he stole from the dealership. “Don’t know.”

Big Dan scans the paper. “Oh fuck. This is the client that bought every fucking piece of art Jesse had hanging in the shop. I joked with him that he should have just booked with her. He seemed to like her style.”

“Do you think it’s the same guy Billie Rose said hit on Jesse when they were shopping a few months ago?” Elijah asks the group.

Jackson takes a picture of the photo with his phone. “Let’s see if Billie Rose recognizes him. It would be nice to know what we’re walking in on. Maybe he’s just a nut job who’s obsessed with her.”

Dirk’s normally blue eyes turn black. He focuses them on me.

“What do you think?” he asks as we wait for Billie Rose’s response.

“I think he made her nervous,” I answer while picturing the way her hand trembled as she put her knife away.

Jackson’s face lights up as he looks at his phone. “It’s him. That means he’s been stalking her for a while.”

Dirk doesn’t wait for anyone else. He kicks his leg over his bike.

“You can’t just roll up there!” Jackson yells.

“Oh, that’s exactly what he plans to do,” Jacob says, grabbing me by my arm. “Let’s go.”

We pull up to a creepy, dilapidated house on the outskirts of town – if that’s what you want to call it. Dirk jumps off his bike and barrels through the front door, not waiting for backup.

“Stay right here. Don’t leave the bike,” Jacob tells me after handing me his helmet. I watch him follow his brothers inside. My gaze roams over the moonlit landscape.

There is beauty in the dark nothingness of the desert at night.

One of the men walk over to the garage that is leaning to one side. “There’s a car in here!” he yells.

Jacob comes out shaking his head.

They didn’t find her.

Jacob takes his helmet from me. “She’s not here, but it has to be him. He has her drawings and paintings scattered everywhere inside.”

“Wait. We can’t just leave. His car is here. Did you check the basement? The attic?” Panic begins to rise from somewhere deep inside me. Time is running out.

I take my helmet off and begin searching around the outside of the house. Jacob follows me. “What are you looking for?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

Dirk steps on the porch, looking like a demon spit from the depths of hell.

“Can you have your computer guy see if he has any other vehicles registered in his name?” I ask Jacob as I kick at the dusty ground.

“Good idea.” He runs over and talks to a guy with a computer that’s sitting precariously on the seat of his bike.

Dirk hops off the porch and joins me in my search.

“Did you find anything inside? Maps? Anything that would indicate he’d take her somewhere else?”

Dirk growls low, but he answers. “No.”

We search inside and out for hours. Jackson sent most of the men to search in town while Dirk, Dan, Raffe, and Jacob hold out here in hope we’ll find a clue.

Dirk looks up at the moon. “Come on. Give me something!” he yells.

His pain pierces my heart.

A few minutes later, the wind changes direction, and a windchime plays an eerie tune from somewhere down the road.

“Fuck!” he shouts again. “There’s nothing here.” He starts to walk back to his bike when the wind blows again.

I lift my face, catching the scent of something. It comes on so suddenly that I wretch, doubling over. Jacob rushes to my side.

“Shit. I’m sorry. You haven’t had anything to eat all day. Let’s get you back to the warehouse.”

Dirk stops in his tracks, listening to me dry heave. Slowly, he turns around, and our gaze locks.

I take a deep breath, letting the nausea subside, and then I wait for the wind to gust again. This time I’m sure of what I smell.

“Blood,” I whisper as my hair whips around my face.

Dirk is now by my side. He and Jacob follow close as I try to pinpoint where the scent is coming from. I stop at a pile of rocks about a hundred yards behind the house. When I drop to my knees, the men join me.

I gag as the smell hits me again. “It’s blood,” I repeat, more sure of myself.

Dirk furiously starts moving rocks aside, and there we find a pipe that leads into the ground.

He jumps to his feet. “There’s a door here somewhere!” he yells to Dan and Raffe.

It doesn’t take long, and he finds the entrance hidden beneath the brush.

Jacob holds me back as Dirk opens it. “Let the others go down first,” he says, holding me close.

Dark steps lead to another door at the bottom. It’s locked. “Fuck you!” Dirk shouts, pulling his gun from the back of his pants and aiming at the door handle. He fires again and again as I press myself into Jacob’s chest, holding my ears.

He kicks once and the door pops open.

Jesse is sitting against a far wall. Blood covers the lower half of her face, spilling down her neck and over her chest. A dead man is sprawled out on the floor at her feet in a pool of blood.

Blood. So much blood.

She laughs, her teeth stained red. “Took you long enough,” she says, pushing herself to her feet. Her hands are cuffed behind her back, and she’s chained to the floor.

Dirk steps on the dead man to get to her. He grabs her by the throat and kisses her like he’s trying to suck her soul from her body.

Big Dan leans over, bracing his hands on his knees. “Jesus, woman. You’re going to fucking kill me someday.”

Raffe chuckles. “Fuck.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “Just. Fuck.”

Jacob holds me close as I stare at the blood and the dead man. “I’ll text the club that we found her,” he says, knowing his brothers are a little overwhelmed at the moment. He keeps me cradled in his arms as his fingers fly over his phone.

I’ve never seen anyone kiss as long as Dirk and Jesse are. I tip my head to look at Jacob. “I’ll never run from you again,” I whisper.

He doesn’t say anything, but his blue eyes tell me everything.

When Dirk and Jesse finally separate, I wince at the blood that now coats Dirk’s greying beard. He doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe it’s that he doesn’t care.

His boot stomps down on the man’s head. Over and over again as Jesse watches her husband’s face intently. Blood drips from his boot as the man slowly morphs into something unrecognizable.

Jacob places his hand loosely over my nose and mouth. “Breathe, baby.”

I inhale deeply, thankful that his scent masks the copper that had filled my nostrils. Had I been holding my breath?

He turns and marches me up the dark stairs, his hand still covering my face. As soon as the wind hits my skin, I crumble. Jacob ushers me to his bike, encouraging me to lean against it.

“Someone will be back with a truck,” he says, brushing hair from my face.

Club members are filtering back to the scene.

Sure enough, someone pulls in with a pickup, and Jacob quickly settles me inside the cab as men unload gallons of gasoline from the back.

Members are already dousing the house with it when Jesse finally emerges from the ground. They must have found the key to unlock her hands because the first thing she does is light up a cigarette. The men all keep their distance as she takes in the scene around her, blowing smoke over her head. It drifts like a heavy fog in the moonlit sky.

Like a Phoenix …

Fires begin to erupt around her. The house. The garage.

“Here, eat,” Jacob encourages, handing me a snack bar.

My gaze remains fixed on Jesse. She flicks her half-smoked cigarette in the hole that would have been her final resting place had we never found her.

Flames lick at her feet, but she doesn’t seem to notice the heat.

She spots us sitting in the truck and makes her way over. Jacob hops out as she approaches. With the flick of her finger, he steps aside so she can talk to me.

“I owe you one,” she says simply.

“You don’t owe me shit. You were right. That fucker really was a creep.”

She tips her head to the side to study me. “You okay?”

“I’m good.” I sit forward. “How did you do it?”

Her tongue runs along the top of her mouth, and I wonder if she can taste the man’s blood. “I ripped his jugular out with my teeth.” She shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “He thought he was going to take what was mine.”

“Fuck. I don’t think I could have done that,” I whisper in sheer awe.

She grabs me gently around the throat, pulling me close to her face. “I hope you never have to, but if you do, you will. Never surrender. Skulls always fight to the end.”

Dirk hops in the truck beside me. “Get the fuck in, Jesse,” he orders.

She shifts so Jacob can kiss me. “I’ll meet you back at the warehouse,” he says.

I want to ride with him, but I’m exhausted and it’s a long way back.

When he sees the sadness in my eyes, he kisses me again. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Jesse leans against the door and falls asleep before we even get out of town. Dirk clicks the lock so she doesn’t fall out.

His focus goes back to the road.

“You don’t seem surprised by tonight,” I say quietly.

“Surprised?” He chuckles darkly. “I knew when she was seventeen that she was the toughest bitch I’d ever met.” Dirk pats my leg when he sees me watching Jacob’s headlight in the mirror. “You like riding?”

“I do.”

“Maybe we should get you your own bike. My treat. It’s the least I can do for you.”

“Thank you, but I’m happy on the back of Jacob’s.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You know, I had my doubts about you.”

“No worries. I have doubts about myself.”

He laughs, a true laugh, and he even smiles. I see it now. What Jesse sees in him.

“Don’t we all. Don’t we all.”

His gaze roams over his bloody, sleeping wife. “She recognized you were good, and I believed her.”

“Why?”

“Because like you. She knows evil on a personal level.”

She stirs and groans, her brows pulled together.

Even though the smell of the blood she’s bathed in makes me want to unzip myself and get the fuck out of here, I lean over and pull her against me. Her head falls against my shoulder, and I wrap my arms around her. I watch as her face relaxes.

Dirk reaches over and takes her hand in his. “I saw what happened at the warehouse last night.”

I lay my cheek against the top of Jesse’s head and look at him.

“Climbing out of windows is another thing you two have in common.” He glances at the road and then at me. “Next time, remember you have friends you can talk to. Don’t run.”