Ransom (Dead Man's Ink Series Book 3) (24 page)

I wait twenty minutes; it feels like an eternity. I’d give them even longer, but Cade points out the red and blue flashing lights approaching down the distant fire road leading to the farmhouse and it really is time for us to go. All six of us run over the back fields, heading toward the bikes we left stashed there. Alan makes noise about staying, talking to the cops, explaining to them what happened. It’s only when his daughter tells him how that will pan out for the rest of us that he gives in and runs.
 

We’re about three hundred meters from the bikes when the loud, crashing sound of another explosion tears through the early hours of the morning. We all stop, mouths hanging open as the farmhouse goes up in flames. Wood detonates in every direction, rocketing straight up into the air, and the night sky is alive with fire and smoke.
 

“You set your charges,” Cade says, staring back over his shoulder at the inferno.
 

I don’t say anything. Just nod. It had to be this way. We couldn’t allow the cops to match our DNA with blood spilled at the scene. They’d have found evidence of every single one of us inside that house. We’d all have been fucked.
 

The police lights soon blend in with the warm glow cast off by the burning building, and we move on. The sound of our motorcycle engines rumbling into life is blotted out by the roar and crackle of the fire at our back.
 

I carry Sophia’s father on the back of my bike as we head back to the compound, and no one stops us. We travel across the desert, aching in our bones, tired and exhausted, and as the miles pass us by and the stars wheel overhead, I do something I haven’t done in a very long time.
 

I pray.
 

I thank the higher powers of the universe, whomever they might be, that we all made it through tonight safely. I show my eternal gratitude for the fact that the woman I love wasn’t hurt, and that she didn’t lose her father. Beyond that, my mind is empty and my heart is full.
 

Sophia is safe.
 

The club is safe.
 

That’s all that really matters.

******

I know something’s up as soon the compound gates peel back and I see Danny sitting on the steps to the clubhouse, waiting for us. He looks just as tired as we do, which is worrying since things here should have been quiet compared to what just went down on the other side of Freemantle. There’s blood in the dirt. Blood on the ground by the barn.

Cade sees it, too. He’s tensed, his hands gripped into tight fists at his sides as he jumps off his bike and hurries over to Danny. “What’s wrong? What happened?” he demands.
 

Danny cracks his knuckles, shaking his head. “Shay,” he says. “Shay went crazy after you left. She said…”

“She said what?” Cade
 

“She said she was going to show you what a mistake you made tonight. She was so angry. No one could stop her.”

Carnie’s off his bike and standing in front of Danny now, his arms wrapped tightly around his body. “What did she do, man? What did she do?”

“She shot Fatty in the fucking head, man. She went down into the barn, and she…” Dread passes over Danny’s face. “She let her out,” he whispers.
“She set Maria Rosa free.”

EPILOGUE

REBEL

We should have killed Maria Rosa a long time ago. Cade told me over and over again how sure she was that she was going to get out of the basement,
so
fucking sure, and I didn’t listen. I mean, why the fuck would I? The door to her cell was an inch thick. She was injured for a long time. How
could
she escape? I should have known better. I should have seen Shay’s betrayal coming a mile off as well. She’s been simmering for months, quietly and sometimes not so quietly mad over Sophia’s presence in the compound. There are steps that should have been taken a long time ago, and now a Widow Maker is dead, and a psychotically dangerous woman is on the loose.
 

Two days have passed since the farmhouse. I thought we’d have some tearful phone calls back to Seattle, where the Doc and Sophia both told their family they were fine, that they were both alive and well, but that hasn’t happened. Sophia’s mom is away on some church retreat in the wilds of Alaska, so she doesn’t even know Alan was missing. As for Soph’s sister, Sloane is so entrenched in her studies that it’s normal for her to be MIA most of the time anyway. So it goes that after some long, painful discussions, Sophia has come to a difficult decision, and once again she’s making sacrifices for the club.
 

I hug her to me, throwing my arm around her shoulder as we walk down the hill toward the clubhouse. Night is all round us, pressing in from all sides, endless and eternal. There are no clouds, but the stars seem to be strangely absent, too. Everything is blackness—a strange, heavy kind of night.
 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I kiss Sophia on top of her crown, holding her to me. She’s shivering a little despite the warm breeze, which teases at her hair, lifting strands, sending them whirling up around her head.
 

She takes a deep breath and then lets it out slowly. “Maybe,” she says. “Maybe not. I thought this would be over by now. I just thought…”

“You can pick up the phone, you know. All you have to do is pick up the phone and call them. No one in the club will think badly of you for it. You know that, right?”

She nods, biting her lip. “I do. But this kind of makes sense in a way. I just can’t believe my dad agreed to it. He’s always played everything by the book. He’s a conformist. He’s never broken a law in his life. The fact that he’s about to lie to the cops…a DEA agent, at that…” She shakes her head, stunned. “I never thought he’d do this. Never in a million years.”

I’m more than a little surprised too, but then again I know exactly what Alan’s going through. I know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for this woman, no matter how drastic or complicated it seemed. The morning after the farmhouse, Lowell came to the compound, and this time she had a warrant. She ripped the place apart. Thanks to Shay, there were no weapons on the property, and no hysterical Columbians locked in the basement. Lowell went away frustrated and furious, promising to figure out exactly what part we played in Hector Ramirez’s demise, along with our involvement in the transportation of weed and cocaine. As soon as she walked out of the door, Cade said we needed someone on the inside. Someone who could tell us what she was up to. How close she was getting. And Alan Romera put up his hand.
 

“I’ll tell her Alexis called me, asking for money. I’ll tell her I know she’s with you and that I think she’s being held against her will. If she thinks I’m in communication with my daughter, she’ll be in touch with me regularly. I’ll feed her information. She’ll tell me what she knows, too, surely?”

Soph looks around at Cade first and then back at me. “If she thinks I’m here against my will, she’ll come after you.”

I smile, trying to reassure her. “And maybe she does. But you just tell her the truth. That you
want
to be here. She won’t be able to disprove that. We alter a few of the details relating to
how
you came to be here, maybe, but other than that…”

She nods. She squeezes her father’s hand, tears in her eyes. “What are you going to tell Sloane? Mom?” she whispers. Her voice is thick; I can hear the ache in it. I can feel perfectly well how badly she wants her mom and her sister back in her life, and it damn near kills me.
 

Alan’s eyes shine brightly, too. He places a perfunctory kiss on his daughter’s head and then squeezes her hand back. “I can’t tell them this, pumpkin. I can’t lie to
them
. Not if I can avoid it. So maybe I just don’t tell them anything. Maybe that’s for the best. I’ll be there for them. I’ll take care of them and support them. And when the time comes, we can tell them absolutely everything together. It will be better that way.”

I can see in her eyes that Sophia doesn’t believe this. She knows there’s no other way of allowing her father to help, though, which he is determined to do. “Okay. Okay, so I guess that’s it, then.”

And so the plan was set into motion. Alan called the DEA this morning and told Lowell Sophia had contacted him, asking for money. Lowell took the bait immediately. Alan had to leave right away to get back to Seattle, where he’d arranged to meet up with Denise, which had the added bonus of forcing her out of New Mexico as well. It’s temporary, of course. She’ll be back with a vengeance.
 

The goodbye Sophia shared with her father was heartbreaking. The fact that he knows she’s alive and safe, and he can contact her when he wants is of some comfort to her, though. She seems sombre but less panicked than she has been of late.
 

Raphael is gone. Hector is dead. Justice has been served for my uncle. For Leah. For Bron. For the pain and suffering that Sophia endured. We may be left walking a tightrope with the DEA, but our future is looking a lot less fragile than it did a month ago. Everyone can feel it.
 

Loud music and laughter spills from the clubhouse doors as Danny reels drunk out into the night. He staggers off toward the barn, mumbling something about fresh air. Sophia and I hover outside the building for a moment, arms around each other, listening to the raucous shouting and revelry taking place inside. I think about the black bag I had Cade hide under the bar earlier—the bag with my tattoo gun neatly packed away inside, and the black ink I plan on marking this beautiful, brave, wonderful woman with in just a few hours. She has no idea what’s about to happen, of course. She has no idea that I’m about to make her drink a foul, disgusting bottle of whiskey and make her lie down for me so I can tattoo her, making her a full, official member of the Widow Maker’s MC.
 

I wrestle with the smile that wants to spread across my face as she looks up at me, her eyes wide and clear. “You look like you’re up to no good,” she tells me, tucking her hands on the inside of my t-shirt. “You’ve got that look on your face. It’s making me nervous.”

I kiss the end of her nose, sighing. “Well. Y’know. You can always call Kansas.”

She won’t, though. I know her inside and out, and she knows me. We were born for each other. Our futures hold pain and suffering, there’s no doubt about it, but the joy and the beauty of what we will experience as we share our lives with one another outweighs the hurt. It will all be worth it. I can see it now, and so can she. I can tell by the way she’s looking at me.
 

“Still want to marry me?” I whisper into her ear.
 

She makes a soft, subtle sighing sound at the back of her throat. “I still want to marry you, Louis James Aubertin the third. In spite of everything.
Because
of everything, I still want to be your wife.”

“Good. Then let’s go inside. I have this bottle of scotch I want you to try.”

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Callie Hart is a bagel eating, coffee drinking, romance addict. She can recite lines from the Notebook by heart. She lives on a ridiculously high floor in a way-too expensive building with her fiancé and their pet goldfish, Neptune. Rogue is the first instalment in her Dead Man’s Ink trilogy. Book three will be coming out soon!
 

Her Blood & Roses series has over two thousand five star reviews, and features a dark hero and a kickass heroine. Book one, Deviant, is FREE right now!
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