Page 34 of Biker's Collar: Property of Scrap

By the time he says that, I see two more large stakes lined up alongside the rest.

“What the fuck is going on…” Tanner drawls. His Texan accent is so sexy. I know now isn’t the right time to think about how hot he is but… there’s something about fear and arousal all mixed up in my brain. It’s his fault, I’m pretty sure.

Zayna reminds us both that she’s awake, nearly causing me to jump out of my skin. “Those look like heads.”

My eyes follow the stakes to the top. I didn’t see heads at first. I didn’twantto see heads. But now that Zayna puts the idea in my head… Every part of me gets tense. I press my feet into the floorboard of the car and grip the sides.

“Tanner. Are those heads?”

“Ruger’s out here. I spoke to him before we headed out.”

Oddly enough, Ruger isn’t my main concern. Ruger had custody of a pregnant woman, who I consider far more likely to end up spiked in the desert than him…

Instead of slowing down, Tanner speeds up. Zayna and I exchange glances in the rearview mirror, but we both sit back in silent terror. We’re both partly at Tanner’s mercy. I trust him not to get us into trouble that we can’t get out of, but that doesn’t make it any less horrifying to see this horror movie shit when we’re virtually alone in the desert.

“Babe? Do you have a gun?” I say as quietly as possible. We’re in a car, so Zayna obviously hears the exchange. But I make an effort to be subtle at least.

“Do you seriously think I would bring you within ten miles of Ruger without a gun? I also have a hand grenade. Just in case.”

“We’re blowing someone up with a hand grenade?” Zayna asks. I don’t know what to make of her tone. It’s a little concerning.

“Not unless necessary. Don’t worry, ma’am. We will protect you with our lives.”

Zayna leans back. I let her excitement over the hand grenade slip from my memory.

There are more terrifying and immediate problems. Tanner gets close enough to Oske’s trailer for us to see everything. Three stakes, at least ten feet tall, and each one with a bloodied, severed head perched at the top. Ruger’s black Ford dually sits exactly where you would expect to find it, parked outside Oske’s trailer with two of his bikes loaded up in the back. Ruger sits on the porch smoking and staring off into space.

Seeing our truck approach doesn’t affect him in the slightest. He just stares ahead, lost in thought. Lost in the throes ofinsanity. My head feels lighter. I look over at Tanner, trying to ground myself with my husband’s presence.He won’t let this get crazy. I trust him.He gives me a reassuring look, but it’s not enough.

Tanner stops the truck, but I don’t want to move. I’m scared to open the door. There’s going to be a smell and I know it. Tanner looks over at me to make sure I’m okay. But neither of us have time to sit for a moment because Zayna opens the truck door and springs herself out.

Shit.

Ruger rises and throws his cigarette into the dirt.

Once she opens the truck door, my worst fears materialize and I smell death over every square inch of Oske’s property.

“What the fuck is wrong with that Blackwood boy?” Tanner mutters.

I wish I had answers for that. I really do.

Sixteen

Owen

Vickie is strangely compliant for our drive across the country. We stop overnight once and I get separate motel rooms, mostly because I need the night to myself to call my brothers and get our shit together. I don’t need Vickie distracting or tempting me when I need proper sleep. Since we stay in Barbarian territory, I don’t have to worry about her running off. Even if she were to get away… it wouldn’t take long to get her back.

I bought Kaylee-Marie’s house, so the only thing that surprises me when I pull the bike into the driveway is the condition of the place. Her lawn looks a couple months overgrown. The Volvo I bought her a couple years ago has a dent in the side…

Paint peels on the outside of the house and the steps have bullet holes through them. Plus, the second one is basically hanging off.Waverly could hurt herself on that.

Vickie hands me her helmet. She gives me a worried look. I have masterfully avoided the subject of Kaylee-Marie and Vickie meeting throughout our brief interactions with each other. The collar around Vickie’s neck won’t make this comfortable.

I’m just surprised Kaylee-Marie hasn’t come running out of the house brandishing something yet. I call her while Vickie stares at me. Curious. Confused. Concerned. I don’t have answers for how this shit is all supposed to go. I’m just here because of an alleged emergency and I thought my brothers were going to get here first…

“Where are you?” I growl into the phone impatiently.

“Your brothers drove me to the place where they took Waverly,” she says. “If you had fixed your ass to get here sooner, I would have been home. That’s where you are, aren’t you?”

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