Page 13 of Fire Meets Fire

Girlie?Under the circumstances, his moniker for me almost makes me snort. But I’m annoyed that he uses this time to show his chivalry.

“Go to the house, Harold,” I repeat.

But he shrugs and just stands there steadily.Fuck it.Souls recognise souls, and while I have to force myself to see the benefit in climbing out of bed every morning, I’m fairly certain Harold feels the same way, surviving only by pinning his hopes that I can bring his son’s bike back, and therefore his son out of the coma’s hold. Knowing there’s only a slim chance of success, he probably values his life as little as I do mine.

I give up trying to persuade him, narrowing my focus on the men standing below. I might not have a lot to live for, but if I’m to go out, it will be on my terms. Rock steady, I wait on the alert for any movement toward a weapon or for one to slip out and take a back way to try to find me.Never underestimate your enemyis a lesson that’s been ingrained. Rather than considering I’ve some members of a motorcycle gang who are only brave when in numbers and riding their intimidating metal beasts, I treat them exactly as I would a group of highly trained special forces. Though nothing about them at the moment particularly impresses me. They seem at a loss as to what to do.

The other man who’d been there last night taps Chaz on the arm, then speaks into his ear. The man spoken to nods, and while keeping one eye on me, addresses Harold.

“Where’s the other fucker?” As he speaks, I notice the third person, the man I’ve not before seen, cautiously looking around.

Harold is rightfully confused. “There’s no one else here.”

“The mechanic,” Chaz snaps. “The man restoring the bike?”

At last Harold seems to find some amusement in the situation, and barks a laugh. He points up to where I am. “Oh, that fucker is her.”

After taking a moment to digest that information, and having shared a raised eyebrow conversation with his companions, Chaz leaves Harold and walks front and centre, putting himself directly underneath me. His eyes focus on the sturdy wood I’m resting on as though calculating what it might take to bring me down. This barn’s not newly built and I’m lying on thick timber, I doubt even a hail of bullets would do much damage to it.

Clearly seeing the same, instead, he resorts to words. Shading his eyes from the beam of evening sunlight that’s angling its way in, he moves his head side to side. Unlike Harold, his moves slowly, thoughtfully. “A coward and a thief,” he eventually announces scornfully. I’ve been injured and hurt in too many ways to count, but words have never hurt me. I don’t respond, just wait for him to continue. He doesn’t disappoint. “Why don’t you come down and face us?”

“So you can take me captive again? No thank you. I think I’ll stay where I am.”

“Captive?” Harold blusters. “What the hell has been going on? Is this anything to do with that black eye you got last night? Did these fuckin’ bikers hurt you?” Even from here I can see his fists clench, and realise he’s going to get hurt unless I find some way to defuse the situation, or he obeys me and clears out of the way.

I’m opening my mouth but Chaz gets in first, raising his brow as he turns to face Harold. “She didn’t tell you?” His expression and tone suggest there’s a wealth of shit that Harold might not know, and now he shoots a glare up at me, as Chaz says casually, “Oh, her crimes are many. She’s been stealing from us. Caught her red-handed yesterday, so yeah, we offered our hospitality?—”

“Fucking amateurs.” I snort. “They couldn’t hold me, Harold.”

But instead of sharing my amusement, Harold shifts uncomfortably foot to foot, then he grimaces. The old man’s not stupid. He’s put two and two together fast. “Helo’s been getting some parts for me. She was getting them off a scrap heap.” His eyes reach up to meet mine accusingly.

“I was,” I confirm.

About the same time as Chaz repeats, “Helo?” He smirks widely. “What kind of fuckin’ handle is that?”

It’s the name I earned though I don’t know why I should confirm it, instead directing my next comment to Harold. “They’re just pissed I got into their premises.” Chaz’s face hardening is the affirmation that I’m right on the money. I continue, “See, if they were sensible, instead of coming after me for trespass, they’d ask where their weak points were in their security. I could have taken something of value, or stolen one of the bikes.”

The man who wasn’t there yesterday, barks a laugh. “She’s offering us advice?”

Before Chaz can answer, I call back down, “Don’t see why not. My expertise in return for the parts.”

“We’ve got cameras where you entered already,” Chaz points out, showing how they were on to me yesterday. “And we’ve plans to heighten the fence and put more razor wire on top. No one’s getting in that way anymore.”

“And you think that would stop me?” Already I’m running through the other options I’d explored.

Chaz rubs his neck as if he’s getting a crick from looking up. “Come down and talk to us man to,” he coughs, “woman. And maybe we’ll be interested in any weaknesses you can point out.”

Yeah, and I was born yesterday. I know you don’t trust men like them, and coming down from my perch would give them theupper hand. Up here, no one can get close to me without getting a bullet in their head.

Chaz rolls his head to relieve his ache. I have to admit, I’m impressed that he seems to be thinking about the situation and not simply screaming and yelling. He already knows I’m not a good little girl who’s going to simply do what I’m told. Instead, he eyes Harold with a narrowing of his eyes.

I’m sure he’s wondering how much I’m invested in the old man and calculating the odds of being able to take him with them. But I’ll shoot anyone who touches him.

Then, the president of the Wretched Soulz surprises me. Instead of making a move on Harold, or issuing more threats against me or him, his lips turn up in an approximation of a smile, and instead demands, “Five hundred dollars and we’re quits.”

To be honest, while well over the top, what he’s asking isn’t extortionate if it gets me off the hook. Problem is, I’ve not got the money. Well, not where it’s accessible, that is.

Harold glances upward and frowns as he thinks. His eyes flick between me and Chaz. Finally he exhales a heavy sigh and grumbles, “Keep them here, Helo. I’ll go get it.”

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