Author: Jaci Burton

She nodded and stood, moving away, her tears falling so hard she could barely see. She swiped them away, knowing she was never going to see Pax again, that he would die because he loved her.

She held the gun in her hand and walked steadily away from him, her heart shattering with every step.

TWENTY

SHE HAD TO GET AWAY. SHE HAD TO BE SAFE.

She’d said she loved him. Was that because she meant it or because she thought he was going to die? Pax didn’t know, didn’t really believe in love, but damn, right now he really wanted to.

He’d shifted himself into a sitting position against the back of the tree, and now he reached up to pull off his helmet, tossing it to the ground. His chest burned like the fires of hell and he was weak as a baby, which really pissed him off.

But he’d gotten Teresa out of there, and that’s what counted. He had to believe she was going to get out of this. She was smart, resourceful, and would do what it took to make sure she didn’t get hurt.

He reached into his pocket and grabbed his cell phone, punching in AJ’s number. Still no answer. Shit. AJ was fine, too. He had to be. AJ had to take care of Teresa because Pax wasn’t going to be able to.

He would have liked that chance, though.

Now all he could do was lie here and wait to die. Not the way he’d imagined, going out in a blaze of glory, but not much of his life had turned out like he’d imagined.

He leaned against the tree and prayed like hell that Teresa was running.

TERESA LOPED ALONG AT THE FASTEST PACE SHE COULD UNTIL she couldn’t run anymore, until her breath wheezed out and she had to stop, bend over and wait for oxygen to fill her lungs. Her chest hurt. Hell, every damn part of her body hurt. But she was alive and moving, and Pax had given her that chance. No way was she going to throw it away.

The thought of him lying back there, wounded, made her ache. Part of her wanted to go back there and be with him. She had the gun and she could fight off Russ, shoot him if necessary, but she’d never shot a man. Oh, sure, she’d taken the training and gotten her concealed carry license after the rape, wanting to make sure she could protect herself, but she’d always doubted she could pull the trigger.

Russ had shot Pax. She could pull the trigger. Lifelong friend or not, he had turned on them. And without her by his side, Pax was vulnerable. But if what he said was right, if Russ was after her and not him, then getting far away from Pax was the only way she could protect him.

She saw lights hovering at the top of the embankment. She froze, then scurried behind a tree.

The feds? The only thing she could see was headlights. Car lights, not a bike. And she hadn’t seen Russ. Had he taken off after he’d shot Pax, thinking both of them were dead? She had no idea.

Then she saw two guys dressed in black come over the hill, running at a fast clip down the embankment. And they were headed toward Pax’s location.

Teresa’s pulse kicked up hard and fast, indecision wracking her. Suddenly hiding to save herself seemed cowardly. She had the gun. Pax was wounded and could do nothing to defend himself. What if those guys weren’t the feds? If they were, she could go to them and lead them to Pax. If they weren’t . . .

They were getting closer to finding Pax. Pax, who loved her enough to sacrifice himself to keep her safe.

She loved him, too.

She knew what she had to do—whatever it took to keep Pax alive, even if that meant calling attention to her location.

She stepped out from behind the tree, her hand, and the gun, in her pocket.

“I’m over here!” she called.

They turned and ran toward her, and she knew as soon as they got within sight that they weren’t federal agents. Their leather jackets gave them away.

Panic bled through her, making her sweat.

She turned and started running, but she knew she wasn’t going to be able to outrun them. She was bruised and sore, and her legs weren’t going to be able to put up the fight she needed them to. The only alternative was to turn and shoot.

She pulled the gun out and turned around, but it was too late. They had gotten too close. One of them tackled her, the gun flying out of her hand as he did.

She landed with a thud and tried kicking the guy off of her, but the other one grabbed hold of her arm. She tried to wrestle away, but it was useless. They were stronger than her. The two of them dragged her up the embankment, tied her hands behind her and tossed her into the back of a black van.

And even worse, she had no idea if there were more of them down there looking for Pax, who was unarmed and vulnerable.

Dammit. Tears pricked her eyes as the van started up and pulled away. She shoved the waterworks aside, letting anger settle in instead. She was still alive, and as long as she was alive there was a chance she could get out of this. If they hadn’t killed her on the spot, they wanted her alive for a reason. She just didn’t know what that reason was yet.

She should have shot them. Now she was in deep shit and no one knew where she was. She could only hope Pax was okay, that maybe by signaling to them she’d managed to at least save him.

AJ HAD BEEN IN THE LEAD ON A WINDING ROAD WHEN THE FISTS sprung their trap at the curve. AJ had gone one way, the Thorns had gone the other and the Fists were in the middle, effectively cutting AJ off from the Thorns.

While the Thorns fired back at the Fists, AJ had taken out his phone to call for backup, only to find his goddamn cell couldn’t get service in this remote area.

He’d been in a ditch, and low ground meant sitting duck, and that just hadn’t been acceptable. So while the Thorns leveled bullets at the Fists, AJ rolled out of the ditch and headed for the rocky hill behind him, staying low and out of sight. And maybe that would help his cell service so he could get them some goddamn backup.

It had taken him a half hour to climb the damn hill. Jagged edges, a few sheeted spots and sharp drop-offs meant he couldn’t scale it fast. By the time he reached the summit, he was sweating and damn glad to have made it. And still no fucking cell service. Shit.

But he was on the back side of the Fists/Thorns battle now, which seemed to have turned into a standoff. The Fists were holding their ground and preventing the Thorns from breaking entrance into the compound. The Thorns were holding firm.

AJ saw a metal building at the crest of the hill. Looked like an abandoned warehouse, the faded red sign scrawled above the double front door proclaiming it a former auto salvage yard. A few hundred rusted-out auto body carcasses still littered the landscape behind the building, a graveyard for old Chevys, Fords and Dodges.

He’d counted six guys wandering around inside the building.

A van pulled up under the floodlights of the old metal building, and two guys dragged someone out the back and into the building.

Fuck.

It was Teresa. She was bound and struggling as they pulled her along.

Even worse, Russ had led the van into the parking lot in front of the building. He had to be working with the Fists.

Dammit.

Maybe it was lucky that AJ had found his way here after all. At least he knew Teresa was here. And she was alive. But where was Pax? It wasn’t a good sign that he wasn’t with them. It meant something bad had happened to him, because no way would Pax have let Teresa be taken by Russ.

Okay. He had to take a deep breath and clear his head. He had to figure out what the hell he was going to do, because he was outnumbered. And trapped. No point in heading back down to where the Thorns were. No way was he leaving Teresa.

And now the two who had brought Teresa wandered the outside perimeter. Eight total.

The odds weren’t good at all, but what choice did he have? He wasn’t going to take the time to make the trek back down to get to the Thorns, his goddamn phone was shit, his best friend was either hurt or dead, and Teresa was in trouble.

That left him only one option. He had to get in there.

TWENTY-ONE

SORE, TIRED, TRUSSED UP LIKE A THANKSGIVING TURKEY AND pissed as hell, Teresa sat on a threadbare sofa in a cold metal building and glared across the room at Russ the traitor as he talked to that asshole who had killed Larks. Russ occasionally shot worried glances her way.

If she’d had Pax’s gun on her right now, she’d have shot him. She should have shot the two guys who’d come after her, should have had the presence of mind to do what Pax had told her to do in the first place. Then she wouldn’t be here, tied up and waiting to be used as—as what, exactly? That she didn’t know, but she was obviously here for a reason.

This was all her fault. But what choice had she had? Leave Pax as a sitting duck? They would have found him and killed him, and that hadn’t been an acceptable alternative.

Better her than him. The feds would find him; he’d be fine. And she was going to get out of this and kick Russ’s ass. He was Joey’s best friend. He was her friend, goddammit. How could he do this to her? How could he even be having a conversation with the guy who had killed Larks and pinned the murder on her brother? If white-hot anger could melt rope, she’d be a free woman by now.

She surveyed the building. Two double doors in the front guarded by two men holding what looked like semiautomatic weapons. Two other guys guarding side exit doors, also holding weapons. One at the back door, similarly armed.

Russ the traitor headed her way, his expression wary.

Yeah, he should be wary. She held her tongue as he sat next to her on the sofa. “Are you comfortable?”

She shot a livid gaze to him. “Like a goddamn day at the beach.”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen this way, Teresa. Are you hurt?”

“Oh, I feel just great, Russ. Getting shot off a Harley and tumbling down an embankment is my idea of a fun night. I do it all the time.”

He looked toward the front doorway, then back at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You could have not shot at us.”

“I had no choice.”

She almost laughed at that. “What the hell are you doing with the Fists, Russ? Are you out of your mind?”

He dragged his hand through his thick shock of curly hair, not quite meeting her gaze. “It’s . . . complicated.”

“Complicated, my ass. That guy you were talking to is the one who killed Larks.”

“I know.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t supposed to go down like this. None of it was. I’m sorry. I can’t say that enough. I really am.”

“It’s a little late for sorry, isn’t it? Why don’t you figure out a way to get us both out of here? It’s not too late for that.”

“All those years ago. They told me I had to . . . to prove my loyalty.”

She frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He dropped his head to his chest and stared at his boots. “Never mind.”

“Go ahead, Russ. It’s time she knows the truth.”

Teresa’s gaze lifted to the man who’d come to stand in front of her. He looked familiar. She’d seen him around Larks a lot. Tall and thin, with long dark hair pulled into a ponytail, a sleeve of tattoos covering each arm. He was the Fists’ second in command or something. “You’re Walter.”

Walter nodded and grinned. “Yeah, I am.” He turned to Russ. “Go ahead, tell her.”

Russ snapped his gaze to Walter. “Leave it alone, Walt.”

Instead, Walt crouched down in front of Teresa and laid his hands on her knees. She lifted her bound feet to kick at him, but he just kneeled on them. She winced.

“No, I think it’s time she knows the truth about who you are. Who I am.”

She waited, certain she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear. She turned to Russ. “What truth, Russ?”

Russ shook his head. “They made me. Said I had to prove my loyalty.”

“They made you what?”

Walt’s fingers traveled up her legs. Teresa tried to shake him off, pushing her knees against him, but he didn’t budge.