Page 11 of Liberator

“Your statement makes me believe that you have intel that proves the cartel was behind the bombing. Am I correct?” Prime inquired.

“As always your intelligence gets you to the truth of the matter quickly. Yes, we know that the cartel paid one of the contact’s minions to plant the bomb. It destroyed the product but did not finish its job. Your man was meant to die as well. Because of his mistake, the cartel has eliminated the minion. He is no longer a threat, and your contacts are likely to be out of business,” Zoe answered.

“What does Don Petrov have in mind for us now that our contacts are gone? It will take a while to set up shipments from other contacts, and they will be nervous over doing business with us after this mess,” Prime stated.

“He has not yet made a decision on that matter. The trafficking situation is his priority at the moment. He realizes your man needs time to heal, so he will give you time to make other arrangements. He may find he needs you for other matters. He has given me the power to give you leniency on your contract with him for now. Either he or I will be in touch again soon. I wish you well in your endeavors.”

“I wish you and your father well also. I hope whatever business he is attending to goes his way,” Prime replied.

The call abruptly ended, and I heard Prime say to himself, “That woman’s voice gets under my skin. Damn, I want her.”

Chapter 8

Everything I’d feared hadcome to pass. Flame had come and told me what had occurred during the trip to Mexico and how Rage had barely escaped the truck bomb with his life. He’d been burned and battered but survived. Flame was concerned enough to tell me the entire story without argument, even without me prodding and begging for the information, which was shocking considering that it was club business, and I wasn’t a true part of the club.

“I have to see him for myself,” I’d told her. “I feel partially responsible for it because of the way he rescued me when he wasn’t supposed to. I need to see that he’s alright with my own eyes. Is he in the infirmary or was he taken to the hospital?”

Flame had sighed and answered, “He’s in the infirmary. We didn’t dare take him to the hospital unless he had injuries that were too life threatening for Doc to deal with. Enough people are watching us already. We don’t need more eyes keeping track of our every move. A part of me wishes we could have gotten himmore help. Fire is a particular problem for me, and what it does to a person’s body lasts forever.”

She’d rubbed at her shoulder as she spoke. There was a definite story to go with her words, but I could also tell she didn’t want to tell it. Someday, I’d be taken into confidence as a friend I hoped. However, for now, I was in a rush to see Rage.

“He can have visitors, can’t he?” I asked. I was ready to knock down the infirmary door if necessary.

“Doc has given him something to make him sleep. The less pain he feels and the more rest he gets the faster he’ll heal. You won’t get anything out of him at the moment. Prime is holding the debriefing meeting in the infirmary in the morning because Rage insisted he be a part of it. Maybe, you can get into see him after that’s over. I doubt that Doc will allow you to disturb him at all for now,” Flame advised.

I wasn’t pleased at all, but I knew that my attitude was the wrong one. Instead of insisting on indulging my current desire to gaze upon him just to make certain Rage was alive, I should be willing to forgo it in order to allow him to rest and get better. His recovery was more important than my anxiety.

The hours passed slowly as I awaited morning. During them I slept fitfully. At the times I was awake my brain was swirling with confusion. It couldn’t seem to explain to me why I cared about Rage’s condition at all. Truthfully, I knew in my head that his injury had nothing to do with me. Hadn’t everyone told me that over and over? Still, I felt somewhat accountable for his coming to harm.

I barely knew him. We’d spoken only a few times. But he’d been kind and courteous during each of our encounters, and he’d seen parts of me he never should have had access to. So, in a way, he knew me more intimately than almost anyone ever had. It was a dilemma I was having trouble coming to terms with.

My eyes were red with lack of sleep when morning finally arrived. I took a walk to calm myself and stretch my aching body before breakfast because I instinctively knew the debriefing was going to have to come first, before I’d be allowed to speak with Rage. The club leaders had to settle some issues that wouldn’t be mentioned to those of us who were considered hangers-on.

I hoped to change my station in life as soon as possible. I hated being nothing more than an employee. I felt I needed this club to be someone real. At the moment I was simply existing, and that wasn’t good enough anymore. I saw the things the others did, and I wanted to help. Waiting tables was a job for the women who only wanted to sleep with the MC members. I wanted more. I thought Flame and I were destined to be more. Even during the times when I imagined myself as nothing but a whore who’d given up her baby I still knew deep down inside that there was going to be more to my life. I figured Rage had a little to do with that, so I owed him.

Those were the excuses for visiting him I told myself when I finally headed for the infirmary after choking down toast and coffee. I walked quietly down the empty hallway just in case he was still sleeping. I didn’t want to be the first one to rouse him, especially since it would have made me a target for Doc’s wrath.

I shouldn’t have worried. The voices of the club officers reached out into the hallway. I wasn’t able to hear every word, but enough came through to let me understand that the debriefing wasn’t over. I started to back away. I should have left, but I was captured completely by their intense conversation.

I winced when Prime declared, “The truck went up in flames,” and mentioned, “twisted pieces of metal.”

Rage was in that truck. His fate could have been the same. In my mind I saw him twisted and burning on the ground. My entire body shuddered.

Then, I heard his voice. It was raspy from smoke inhalation, but very alive and real. His statement hit me hard.

“I was a target,” he said.

A cold chill washed over me. Although I’d known he was injured and could have died, I had told myself he wasn’t a specific target. Whoever had been taking the trip to Mexico and doing the drug deal would have been hit. Rage was saying differently. The bomb had been meant for him and him alone.

I was sickened enough to gag. I held my hand over my mouth and took short breaths. Tears spilled from my eyes and trickled silently down my cheeks. The phone rang, startling me so that I bumped into the wall. No one noticed. They were intent on the caller, someone named Don Petrov.

They seemed surprised when a woman spoke, but quickly got their heads back in the game. I heard Prime declare, “the cartel was behind the bombing.”

Guilt washed over me as it did every time the cartel was mentioned. I’d been their prisoner and the Serpent Sinners had risked their lives to save me from a life of slavery. I hadn’t been their goal, but I’d certainly caused them a bigger conflict than they’d expected. And I’d made Rage a target.

The knife I felt in my chest dug in deeper when the woman on the phone said, “He may need you for other matters.” I knew it meant the club’s debt wasn’t repaid and there might be worse, more dangerous, jobs for them to deal with in the future.

I skulked away. I’d heard enough for now. I went to my borrowed room and cried. I had to get it all out before I went back and spoke with Rage. He didn’t need my guilty tears.

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