Page 64 of Harper's Song

“No, you’ll take me to this Grove or whatever,” I say.

“You can barely stand, Jax,” he says.

“You fucking owe me.”

We’ve reached the darkness where a truck is parked.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, my brain making yet another connection it should’ve made before now. “Why are you freeing me if you’re one of them now?”

“You were my friend when I didn’t have any friends, even though you had no reason to be. You looked out for me in prison and you didn’t have to and you took me with you when you escaped,” he says, kinda gushingly. “I didn’t know what they were gonna do. I was just trying to survive. And if I gave them nothing, they would’ve killed me. And I don’t want to be one of them. I just want to live.”

Gene freeing me could be a trap. A way for the Renegades to get the answers I wouldn’t give them. But maybe not. He sure sounds sincere enough. And we were friends back in prison. The Renegades never were his friends and they always treated him like shit. I doubt that’s changed much.

Besides, I can’t get out of here on my own and I can’t free Harper on my own. That’s the bottom line and all that really matters.

I walk, or more like shuffle on my own to the passenger side door. “Let’s go. I need a phone.”

“I’m only taking you as far as the hospital,” he says.

“You’re coming with me,” I say and manage to open the truck door with my still half dead right hand.

“You found us from Instagram, you say?” I ask once he gets behind the wheel.

He nods.

It means Hawk must’ve tracked us down too. There’s no way he’d miss a thing like that. And that means the Devils are close. They gotta be.

“Where are we going?” Gene asks as he hands me his phone, then drives off slowly without turning on the headlights.

“We’re gonna find the Devils,” I say and dial their emergency number I have memorized.

“They’ll kill me for sure,” he says in a high-pitched voice and even in the poor light I can see him turn a couple of shades paler.

“You and me both. Maybe,” I say. “But maybe they’ll listen first.”

That’s all I’m hoping for as someone picks up. I don’t recognize the voice.

But I do know the Devils are Harper’s only chance now. I’m too messed up to try and rescue her on my own, I’ll just fuck it up. So I better make my next words count.

22

Harper

I spent the day either frantically clawing at my restraints, dozing off or trying to remember how to breathe when panic overtook me. The woman came again in the evening, but this time, she just opened the door, tossed a bag of food at the bed and left again. I called after her until my throat was raw, pleaded with her, promised her all sorts of things, but it didn’t work.

The bottle of water she brought rolled to my feet, but I almost dislocated my shoulder to get the sandwich, chips and candy bars that were still in the bag she tossed at me. Maybe I should be refusing food and water. Forcing them to let me go that way.

But they’re not gonna let me go. The only way I’m getting free is if I manage to run away and I’m going to need all my strength for that. And I’m not ready to give up on that dream just yet.

Wind is blowing the curtain in and out of the open window and the sun is setting. The bit of sky I can see every time the curtain moves is slowly turning from lovely lilac to dark purple. Jax should be with me to enjoy this sunset. I should be leaning against his chest with his arms around me, not chained and leaning against this cold wooden wall. But in a way I am in Jax’s arms. If I imagine it hard enough and vividly enough, that’s where I am. What difference does it make if it’s just in my thoughts? Does that make it any less real?

The sound of bikes roaring rips right through that fantasy, making the answer to that question a very loudyes. It is just a fantasy. The reality is, my life is about to end. One way or another.

The sky is indigo blue now, covered with many diamond-bright stars. I should be enjoying the sight with Jax too. But instead, I’m about to be mutilated and destroyed and possibly killed.

The echoes of the bikes persist long after they’ve all stopped in the yard below and the dust they kicked up is a cloud obscuring the sky.

At first I couldn’t hear their voices over the roaring echo of their bikes, but now they’re starting to shout at each other so I do.

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