Page 32 of Mile High With the Bikers (Screaming Eagles MC #10)

RORY

My ankles and wrists are tied together, and they tossed us into a windowless room with a steel door.

It’s not exactly overflowing with escape opportunities.

It's not a real cell, at least I don't think so, but it might as well be. It’s basically a cement box with a single door and a bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.

We're not getting out of here until they let us out.

What's going to happen to us? They need me, and I think they know it. Did Dad try to connect somewhere without me? If they did, he’s screwed. Oh God, what has he gotten us into?

“You okay?” Shrapnel's voice is rough and gravelly.

I manage to shift myself up into a sitting position against one of the walls, though it's awkward with my hands behind me. “Yeah, I think so. I’m going to have some pretty colors if we get out of this, but they weren’t trying to hurt me. How are you ?”

I had to sit and listen to them work him over when we got here.

They were trying to make him beg, but he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction, which just made them angrier.

I don't think they found the dongle, but I'm not sure.

It helps that they shouldn't even know to look for it, but I don't trust anything anymore. Other than Shrapnel, Bull and Diesel.

He chuckles, which turns into a soft groan. “I'll be fine. Not my first time in a cell, and they haven't even threatened to pull out my fingernails yet.”

I shudder. “Is that a real threat or just a movie thing?”

“Do you really want to know?”

Maybe not. I wet my dry lips. “So, you told me you were in the Army, but how did you end up in the Screaming Eagles?”

“That's a hell of a situation we're in to start talking about that.” He wiggles up against the wall next to me.

“We might not get another chance to talk,” I say softly. “That makes it worth using, right? Humor me.”

He tests his bonds for what seems like the hundredth time since we were tossed in here. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right, but it’s not pretty.”

I shuffle closer to him and lean my head on his shoulder. “Real is better than pretty.”

Shrapnel leans his head against mine. “Tell me that again after. Remember when I told you that I have some, well, impulse control issues?”

I nod.

“It got worse when I got blown up.” He laughs. “Well, technically, the truck next to mine blew up. I just got blown over I suppose. It still did a number on me. I always thought I’d be career Army. That was my whole fucking plan, and it blew up with me.”

“Is that why you left?”

“Yes and no. I fell into that shitty void between A-OK, and fucked enough to get sent home. I was twenty and too stubborn to admit I was hanging by a thread, not that anyone encouraged me to look too deep, you know? I was functioning, but there was a… situation on base. One of my superiors was harassing a female soldier. He outranked her, too, and he wouldn’t fucking let it go that she didn’t want to play along.

We all saw it, and he just kept escalating.

” He grimaces. “I'm a rough asshole sometimes, but when you’re out in the field, you need to know that the people who are there have your fucking back.

I let him know that I didn't approve.” He flexes his fingers.

“With words?”

He laughs at me. “Fuck no. Broke his face and pulled his shoulder out of its socket.

Turned out the asshole's father was deep in politics. Everyone knew why I did it, but I was still the bad guy. Luckily, my CO was decent, and got me discharged on medical grounds. Last I heard the asshole was climbing the ranks and I was out on the street with no network, a temper I couldn’t control, and nothing but the money in my wallet.

You'll gonna hear this story a lot, but the Eagles were my fucking salvation.

I came in as a prospect four years ago with Reaper, Mad Dog and a couple others, thinking it'd be somewhere to be while I figured shit out. Now I can't imagine ever leaving.”

“Wow. If it helps, I think you're a hero for doing something.” We sit in the quiet, I can tell he’s thinking.

“I’m not… I’m not dangerous if you’re worried. Not because of that at least.”

I look up at him, surprised. “I wasn’t worried. Maybe that’s a dumb thing to say because I saw what was left of Mason, but I think if someone kidnaps and tries to kill you, it’s probably okay to get a little violent.”

“Thanks,” he says dryly.

I shift, trying to put a little more weight on my hip. This floor is hard and my butt is getting sore. “Have you ever thought about having what some of the other guys do? Sharing an old lady, I mean.”

“Of course. Quite a bit, lately.”

“Oh? She’d be a lucky woman.”

Shrapnel’s shoulders shake with a silent laugh. “I don’t know. The only brothers I can put up with enough for that sorta shit would be Bull and Diesel, and who in their right mind would want to saddle themselves with those assholes?”

“True. I see what you mean. But I think the right girl would probably be okay with it. In the right circumstances.”

“Like not being held in a cold cement cell?”

“For starters.” I close my eyes and snuggle into Shrapnel’s side.

“I’m going to hold you to it when we get out of here.”

“When, not if?”

“When. I’ve got a girl waiting for me. I can’t disappoint her.”

A single tear slips out. I believe him, I really do. Whoever took us probably needs me, but it seems so unfair that I met the three of them like this. That they made me care so much, and someone is trying to take it away before we can even figure out where this is going.

A key rattles in the lock and the door squeaks open.

Three big guys in suits come in. They all look the same, high and tight haircuts, shades and wearing black leather gloves.

Their uniform basically screams villain henchman.

Then again, that pretty much describes Mason and Tim.

Described, at least for Mason. An involuntary shudder shakes me.

He betrayed us, and no matter how horrible, I think Shrapnel did the necessary thing, but I still feel bad for him.

I knew him for a long time. I don’t know what tipped him over, and now I guess I might never know. Money?

Two of the suits approach, drawing knives. My heart stops in my chest as they crouch next to us. Does it end here?

“If you fucking cut me…” Shrapnel growls so viciously his guy backs up a moment, like he has to check if Shrapnel's actually still tied down before he dares come back. But when they cut, it's just the ropes around our ankles.

“Get up,” says the third henchman. We get pulled to our feet whether we want to or not. Shrapnel tries to shake off the grip of the guy supporting him, but with his arms tied, he doesn't have the leverage.

“What are you planning to do with us?”

“My orders are just to bring you to my boss. Anything else is up to her. Follow me.” Her? It's a woman? I didn't expect that, but why not?

“Both of us?”

He shrugs. “Not necessarily.”

“Let Shrapnel go. You're not getting anything out of me if you hurt him. Let him leave, and I'll do whatever you want.” I try to push forward to get the guy to at least look at me, but I'm not strong enough. “I'll cooperate if you do.”

“Rory! No. Jesus fuck, you need someone with you.” Shrapnel tries to break free again, and for a moment he does, before his guard whacks the side of his head, knocking him sideways.

With his arms tied, he has no way to protect or catch himself.

I cry out as he hits the floor hard, into a roll over his shoulder.

There's a trickle of blood from his forehead.

He spits at the floor. “Untie me and try that again, motherfucker.”

The guy on me grabs me by my upper arms and basically carries me into a large garage. There's one of the black SUVs there, waiting for us. A moment later, Shrapnel's out too, back on his feet and surrounded.

Finally their leader turns, pulling off his shades. In another life, he could've been handsome, but the expression of pure disdain as he looks at us gives me chills. “Yeah? His life for your cooperation? What, your father's life isn’t good enough?”

As cool as I try to play it, I can't help sucking in a sharp breath at that.

So they do have him? Or at least they want me to think so.

“Dad and I never got along, and he knew what he was getting into when he started the Hermes project.

Shrapnel doesn't know anything. You don't need him.

I mean, look at him. He's just my bodyguard.

I don't want someone to die on my behalf, just because he's doing his job.” I hope Shrapnel understands that I'm just trying to protect him, and the farther that dongle gets from my laptop, the better.

Shrapnel’s eyes are furious. “Rory, don't be stupid.”

I pretend not to hear him. “His life for my cooperation. I promise. Just let him go. He's not involved.”

“It’s your lucky day. The boss wants you, but she doesn’t give a shit about the bikers.”

“So let him go then. Sounds like it's in your power.”

“Rory!” Shrapnel's furious. “We're not fucking doing this.”

A couple more of the henchmen come running over to help keep him under control. The lead one smirks. “Sure. You get in the car peacefully and come with us, and the scumbag gets to walk away. You have my word.”

“Rory!” Shrapnel growls.

“Take him outside.”

The garage opens up, and three of the goons perp walk Shrapnel out the front.

“Don't fucking do this,” he yells over his shoulder, and I really don't want to.

I'm already feeling so alone, but if I can at least save his life, then that's something.

The only alternative I can imagine is much, much worse.

I don't want anyone else’s life on my conscience.

“In the car.” The lead guy points me to the back of the SUV. From one prison to another.

“I want proof he's released.”

My captor laughs. “Your negotiation is done, bitch. No adding clauses at the last second. Be glad I’m throwing him out of my garage instead of putting him down and burying him behind it. Now, come on. Get in the car.” He points emphatically.

Not much choice. I can only pray this guy's word is worth something.

We pull out as soon as the door shuts, barely giving me time to drop into the seat. I press my face against the window, trying to see Shrapnel one last time. I'm pretty sure that once they realize what I've done, they're not going to keep me around for very long either.