Page 3 of Property of Spike

I round the corner, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my ears. I need to think, but the fear is blurring everything.

A gas station comes into view ahead, its fluorescent lights flickering. It’s not much, but it’s something. I quicken my pace, practically running as I cross the parking lot and push through the door.

The clerk looks up, a bored expression on his face. “Evening.”

“Evening,” I mutter back, heading straight for the small seating area by the window. I settle into a corner, facing the door, my pulse still racing.

Asher starts to fuss, his cries growing louder. I bounce him gently, trying to calm him while keeping my eyes on the door. If that man followed me, I need to be ready.

Minutes pass. The door doesn’t open. No one comes in.

I let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through me. But it’s short-lived. This isn’t a solution. I can’t stay here all night.

I glance around, my mind working through the options again. The hospital’s out. The motels are too risky. I need somewhere they’d never think to look.

The clerk clears his throat, giving me a pointed look. “You okay there?”

I nod quickly. “Yeah, just…waiting for someone.”

He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press.

Waiting for someone. The words linger in my mind and an idea flickers.

Maybe I do need to find someone. Someone who can help me. Someone who isn’t tied to the people I’m running from. Someone they would be too scared to go against.

The problem is, I have no idea who that could be.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Butch,” someone says from somewhere in the store. “The last time someone crossed the Iron Shadows, they lost an eye.”

“I’m not afraid of those idiots,” another says. “That man lost his eye because he’s a fucking pussy. Let them try and come after us. I’ll shoot ‘em dead before they even park their bikes.”

“You say that now, man, but I’m serious. You don’t mess with that biker club. The President isn’t one to play games. He shoots and asks questions later.”

“You let me handle ‘em.”

I block out the rest of their conversation. The Iron Shadows. I happen to know a lot about them. I don’t think anyone living in Palm Springs hasn’t. But is it worth the risk to ask them for help? Would they even want to help? There’s never been mention of the Iron Shadows doing charity work for scared and hopeless women. But maybe they secretly rescue damsels in distress without letting anyone know. Probably not, but I choose to think otherwise.

This group of bikers is well known for their not-so-legal activity, although it’s never been proven. They’re rough, scary, dangerous, and are all over Palm Springs.

It’s risky, but maybe the risk is worth it.

I happen to know that they have a spy inside their club for the police department. Or rather, for one particular personassociated with the police department, anyway. Maybe I can trade that information for a safe place to rest.

Asher’s cries increase, so I head to the restroom. Maybe if I nurse and change him here, he’ll sleep long enough for me to get us someplace safe.

***

They said no. They told me if I was having problems to go to the police. But I can’t do that.

Now what?

Chapter Three

Spike

“I’m telling you now, cousin or not, I’ll kick your ass if you try to cross me.” My voice is low and steady but sharp enough to cut through steel.

Billy leans back in his chair, running a hand through his greasy hair and sighing like he’s the one under pressure here. “I wasn’t trying to cross you, cuz. I just wanted to see if we could pass through to deliver a shipment to La Quinta.”