Page 41 of Deceiver

He hangs up, not giving me a chance to say anything more.

Closing my eyes, a long exhale leaves my lips.

So much for staying here and waiting for my wounded warrior to return.

I drink my tea, run my fingers through my damp hair, and then make my way out of the shed and down to the clubhouse. Everyone is standing in a circle in the middle of the open garage, discussing something. I can’t help but notice they’ve got guns shoved in the backs of their jeans. They’re going out, and they’re going hunting. Hunting for the person who took Trader’s life. It’s Colt who notices me first, and his eyes flare.

“I’m not here to listen in,” I say, and everyone turns to stare at me, a line of empty bikers’ eyes pinning me to the spot, “but Bill is demanding I sneak in and get information while you’re all busy. I know it’s not the time, and I’m sorry, but he’s given me an hour.”

Western looks like he wants to go and hunt Bill down right now and crush him with his bare hands, but, instead, he answers me in a gruff voice. “Tell him you found some papers givin’ a location, and on that paper, was a name. He’ll go on the hunt, might even give him a lead, but it won’t be enough to ever fuckin’ get near this club.”

Swallowing, I nod, pulling out my phone to write it down.

“Hit me.”

Western rattles off a location, a name and some other information about a safety deposit box. I write it all down, and then nod. “I’m sorry to have interrupted.”

“Heard you defended my boy tonight,” Colt calls as I turn to walk away.

I pause, looking back at him.

“Those police officers are just as much in on this as Bill. I have no doubt they are behind this attack. I wasn’t going to let them take him anywhere.”

Colt’s face softens, just a touch. That’s hard going, considering he always looks terrifying.

“Appreciate it.”

Warmth floods me, but I simply nod and turn, walking off into the darkness to give Bill his false information.

I can’t help but wonder, though ...

Where does this information lead?

How is the club involved?

And am I willing to find out?

~*~*~*~

THE TIGHTENING AROUNDmy throat has the air from my lungs unable to escape. Fighting, I attempt to push away the heavy hands around my neck, stopping the life from being drawn into my body. Desperately clawing, darkness threatens to take over as I croakily scream out, wanting him to stop, to let me go. My screams break off into garbled gasps as little by little, the word disappears from me.

I’m screaming.

I don’t realize it until I come to and reality slowly trickles back in. What I thought was a nightmare, isn’t. I’m lying in bed, a bed I came back to and fell asleep on last night, and there are hands around my throat, squeezing so hard that my vision blurs and patches of dark and light dance before me.

He’s strangling me.

“Western!” I scream, my voice garbled and broken.

I kick and squirm, clawing at his hands, trying to pull them off me, but he’s too strong, too big.

“Western!” I wail again gasping as the air begins to rapidly run out.

I’m going to die if he doesn’t stop.

Second by second, my life is fading from me. Soon, I’ll black out and I might not wake up. Desperate and frantic, I do the only thing I can think of. I bring my knee up and slam him in the groin. He jerks, bellows, and then suddenly the pressure from around my neck releases and he topples off me. I turn, scrambling off the bed, tears rolling down my cheeks as my feet hit the floor. My vision blurs and, before I know it, I’m on the ground, my head spinning. The air isn’t coming back into my body fast enough.

Gasping, I bring my hands to my neck and sob as the situation sinks in.

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