Outlaw (3 page)

She just stared at him, and he could tell she didn’t
believe him. They looked at each other a long moment, and then he shook his
head as if giving up. “Alright.”

Just then her cell phone went off. Cole glanced at
the pink phone lying on the table playing the ring tone for the theme song from
Cops.

He stared down at the screen, which was lit up with
the incoming caller’s name. It read, Dad.

Cole’s gaze cut back to her.

Holy shit.

“A cop? Your dad’s a cop?”

She looked at him, but didn’t say anything.

He stood up, running his hands through his hair.
“Holy fucking shit,” he whispered.

She watched as he paced, and then turned back to
her. “Did Chuck know?”

She shook her head.

He paced back over to the table, and leaned down
putting his palms down on the table, and lowered his head. He stood that way
silently, thinking, his eyes darting over the surface of the table.

She jumped when he slammed his palm into the table,
and cursed. Then she watched as he sat back down in the chair, and leaned back,
and looked at her. He ran his hand over his jaw slowly, and exhaled. “How the
fuck am I going to let you go, now?”

The full meaning of what he’d just said hit her. “I
won’t say anything. I promise.”

Cole smiled, “Yeah, sure. You’re not a very good
liar, Angel.”

She glared at him, her eyes narrowing. “You’re
right. It is a lie. I hope he kills all of you.”

He studied her for a moment, imagining the horrors
she’d endured. Some of the injuries were plainly visible. He could only guess
there were more that were not, both physical and emotional. Considering all
she’d been through he couldn’t really blame her for the attitude. “Yeah, I bet
you do.”

She looked away. “You’re all a bunch of animals.
Nothing but assholes who-”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” He warned in a
dangerous voice. She was giving him lip. That wasn’t something he was used to,
or willing to put up with. He saw his mistake. He’d tried to be nice to
her,
shown her some kindness, and now she thought he was
going to allow this behavior. He’d overlook it this time, because of all she’d
been through. But hell, so far she’d spit in his face, hit him, and pulled a
gun on him, and all he was trying to do was get her the hell out of here. The
last thing he was going to do was take backtalk from her. He needed to set her
straight on that right from the start. “That mouth’s gonna get you in trouble.
I don’t take lip from anyone, especially a female, do you understand?”

She nodded.

“How the hell did you come to be here? Tell me
that.”

“What difference does it make?” she snapped, turning
her head away.

Cole stared at her. She needed to learn who was in
charge here. “I asked you a question.”

She looked back at him, hearing the authoritative
tone in his voice.

He lowered his face, his eyes boring straight
through her. “Answer. Me.”

She dropped her eyes from his, unable to maintain
eye contact when he looked at her like that. She swallowed. “Two nights ago I
was down at the beach with some friends. Then later, everyone was going to this
party that one of them had heard about. When we got there, I had a drink, and
the next thing I know I’m waking up in the back of a cargo van, handcuffed. I,
I think someone put something in my drink.”

Cole frowned. “Chuck was driving the van?”

She shook her head. “No, some Asian guy was. He
drove for hours. When we finally stopped driving, he sold me to that guy.”

“Sold you?” He raised his eyebrows, questioningly.

“I saw Chuck give him some money, and then he was
pulling me out of the van. What would you call it?”

Cole put his elbows on his knees, and ran his hands
over his face. “Christ.”

“What…what are you going to do?” she asked
hesitantly.

He looked up, his eyes connecting with hers, and
then leaned back, shaking his head. “I don’t know, babe. I don’t know what the
fuck I’m gonna do with you.”

She swallowed, and started to tremble.

He studied her. “Your dad, you live with him?”

She shook her head. “No. I moved out a couple of
months ago. I…I haven’t seen him since then. We had a falling out.”

Her cell phone chimed announcing a voicemail had
been received. Cole’s eyes cut to the phone, and then to Angel. He picked it
up, and handed it to her. “Play the message for me.”

She stared back at him, but made no move to comply.

He raised his eyebrows, staring her down. “Do it,”
he ordered.

She punched in some numbers, and put it on speaker.
A man’s voice came across. “Angel, I know you’re angry, but I need to talk to
you. You can’t keep avoiding me. Call me, please. Or I’m coming out there.”

Cole stared at her a long moment. “What
jurisdiction?”

“Maricopa County.”

“Arizona?”

She nodded.

He blew out a breath. “Well, thank fuck he’s out of
state.”

There was a knock on the door.

Cole got up, and walked to the door. He unbolted it,
and opened it.

Wyatt asked him, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He glanced back at Angel. “Hey, listen. I’m
gonna
need some boots or something for her. I don’t want her
riding back down the mountain barefoot.”

Wyatt glanced at her, and then nodded. “Bozeman had
a little tent set up. Selling leather and shit. Maybe he’s still here.”

“Okay. Thanks. Oh, and the cuffs. Wouldn’t happen to
have any bolt cutters up here, would ya?” Cole asked with half a grin.

“No, but we could probably shoot the chain through,”
Wyatt suggested with an answering grin.

Cole looked back at Angel, and saw the terrified
look on her face. “Naw. That’s okay. I’ll figure it out.”

“Okay. So, I’ll see you in two weeks?”

Cole smiled. “Yeah, brother. Two weeks.”

They slapped each other on the back, and then Cole
turned to Angel. “Come on, darlin’.”

Chapter
Two

Cole took Angel by the arm, and led her out of the
clubhouse, and down the porch steps. She noticed the way the other guys there
all stepped out of Cole’s way as if they didn’t want to mess with him.

He led her over to a table with a canopy tent over
it. There was an older man with long gray hair and a gray beard selling stuff.
He was packing it up to leave when he turned, and saw them.

“Cole! How ya been?”

“Fine. How ya doin’, Boze?” Cole nodded to him.

“Getting by. You need something? I got some real
nice stuff,” the old man offered nodding toward the table.

Cole glanced down, his eyes running over the
assortment, but not finding what he was looking for. “Got any boots that’d fit
the lady here?”

Boze eyed her up and down, noticing the cuffs. His
eyes cut back to Cole, but he knew better than to question him. “Yeah, yeah,
sure. I think I do.” He turned, and shuffled through some boxes, finally
pulling one out, and setting it on the table. “Try these.”

Cole pulled them out of the box, and bent to pull
them on her. He slid his hand up her calf, lifting her leg to slide one boot
on.

She touched his shoulder with her cuffed hands,
trying to keep her balance.

He glanced up at her. He hoped she couldn’t see the
effect she was having on him. The touch of her bare leg had sent a ribbon of
desire shooting through him. Here he was squatting down next to the long,
beautiful length of her bare legs, his eyes about level with her crotch, of
course sex was running through his mind. But that didn’t mean he wanted her to
see it. She was scared enough as it was. “Does it fit?”

Angel put her weight on it, testing. She nodded.

Cole bent, and slid the other one on, then stood up,
and turned to Bozeman. “How much?”

“Hundred.”

Cole pulled the money he’d gotten from Chuck out of
his hip pocket, and peeled off a hundred dollar bill, tossing it on the table.
“Thanks, man.”

“Yeah, sure. Take care of yourself, Cole,” Bozeman
replied.

Cole nodded, and led Angel across the grounds toward
the long drive that stretched down to the road. They walked along the line of
bikes parked there. Stopping in front of one of them, he turned, and looked
back at her, his eyes dropping down to her cuffed hands.

As she watched, his hand moved to his side, and in
the darkness she saw a flash of silver as he pulled a knife from the sheath at
his hip. Angel took a step back, her eyes on the knife. It had a large, wicked
looking blade. She thought it might be a Bowie knife, but she wasn’t sure. Her
mouth went dry as she wondered what he was going to do with it.

She watched as he lifted his flannel shirt out of
the way, and sliced about a two inch wide piece all the way across the front of
his white undershirt hem. Then he cut the piece of fabric in two sections, and
put the knife back in its sheath.

He looked up at her. “Come here.”

She hesitated a moment, and then took a timid step
toward him.

He reached for her cuffed hands, and slid a piece of
the soft, cotton tee shirt under the metal on each of her wrists.

She looked up at him as he worked at it, noticing
the way the light from the bonfire highlighted the blonde of his hair. She also
noticed how gentle his hands were as he touched her.

He looked up into her eyes. “That better?”

She was again struck by how blue his eyes were, and
how long his lashes were. He’d asked her a question, was waiting for her
answer. She nodded.

He turned, and reached for his helmet, taking it off
the handlebar where it dangled by a strap from the handgrip. Stepping back over
to her, he put it on her head, buckling the strap under her chin. Then he threw
his leg over
the his
bike, and patted the seat behind
him. “Come on, darlin’.”

She stepped over to the bike, slid her leg over the
seat, and sat.

He glanced back at her, and realized that she wasn’t
going to be able to put her arms around him with the cuffs on. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked naively, wondering if
she’d done something wrong.

“I’ve got no back rest.”

She stared at him blankly, not understanding.

“You’re going to fall off, if you can’t hold on.”

“Oh.”

He thought a moment, then said, “Put your hands over
my head.”

She lifted her arms as high as she could, and he
ducked down a bit until she got them over his head. Then he pulled her arms
forward, and slipped one arm and shoulder through the circle of her arms, and
then the other. He slid her arms down around his waist. “You okay?”

“Yes.”

He looked over his shoulder at her. “Put your hands
up under my shirt. It’ll keep ‘em warm.”

She did as he said, and he felt the cold bite of the
metal against his stomach. “Shit, that’s cold.”

A small smile formed on her lips.

He didn’t miss it. He returned it. “Okay, darlin’.
You ready?”

She nodded.

He started the bike, slid a pair of riding glasses
and gloves on, and pulled out.

They headed down the mountain.

It was a
three hour
ride
back, and the temperature was dropping rapidly. What had been a warm day was
turning into a chilly night. He felt her tuck in behind him, trying to stay out
of the wind.

They rode for about an hour on the deserted, two
lane highway. Cole took them down out of the mountains, and started across the
flat desert lands before he finally pulled over, and stopped on the side of the
road.

He could feel her trembling.

He twisted slightly to look back at her over his
left shoulder, and frowned when he saw her teeth chattering as she shook with
cold. “You okay?” As she tried to nod, he pulled the glove off his left hand,
and reaching back, he ran his hand over her bare thigh.

It was ice cold.

“Fuck, baby. I’m sorry. You must be freezing.”

Cole slipped his hands down under her cuffed wrists,
and lifted them up and over his head. Then he got off the bike, and helped her
off.

She stood there, shaking.

“You ain’t gonna make it. We got two more hours to
ride, and you’re freezing to death.”

Angel watched as he pulled his cell phone out, and
flipped it open, looking at it.

“No service.”

She looked at him, wondering what the plan was.

He took a deep breath, and blew it out. “I guess we
spend the night here, and head back in the morning after it warms up.”

“H-here?” she asked, looking around. They were in
the middle of nowhere. It was desolate, desert scrub brush for as far as she
could see in the silvery moonlight.