Page 74 of Beautifully Shattered
I scoff. “Do you still get paid if I’m dead?”
His smile drops. “No. So rest assured, we ain’t gonna kill you.”
“Might play with you a little first!” some random Rebel yells from behind the guy up front.
I feel more than hear the low growl that rumbles in Ringo’s chest at that.
“Who’s paying you?” I shout, and the Rebel answers easily.
“Some fucker called Dudley Banes. A man of God, apparently.”
I stiffen.
Minister Banes is paying a motorcycle club to hunt me down and kidnap me.
“Aren’t you working for Ian Allen?” JD asks, and the Rebel shrugs.
“Allen is a fucking snake. Yeah, we’ve dealt with him, but he’s not the one writing cheques. That prick’s got his own agenda, and unless he can top two hundred grand, then he’s worth shit to us.”
“Two hundred thousand dollars,” I mutter in disbelief.
“I’ll pay you more to walk away,” Ringo calls.
“Wait. No!” I hiss, but Ringo squeezes my thigh again, a silent warning to stay quiet.
The Rebels burst out laughing.
“As tempting as that is,” the lead Rebel’s smile drops, “we don’t do business with our rivals. But I’ll gladly take your money after we have your girl and you’ve got a bullet in your skull.”
A gasp escapes me as Ringo revs the engine, and a second later we lurch forward, tearing off towards the shadowed pine forest off to the side.
Another squeal bursts out as I clutch him tighter, my body getting jostled like a rag-doll as we leave the road for grass.
I’m too scared to look back, but I can hear the roar of bikes chasing us, and I guess I have to be thankful they want me alive, otherwise I’d be riddled with bullets by now.
“Fuck!” JD and Jols yell in unison as their bike slams into a rock, nearly throwing them off. But JD wrestles it back under control, speeding up again to catch us.
“Ringo!” I cry out in panic, because shit, I don’t see a way out of this.
If they catch us, they will kill him. I know it!
“It’s okay, Angel!” he calls back. “I won’t let them have you.”
He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get thathissafety is what I’m worried about. Not my own.
It’s then that I see the flicker of flames up ahead, and I realise we’re heading back towards the first ambush and the Marx security team.
Gunfire cracks ahead, but it’s less than before, and as we draw closer to the treeline, I see the carnage that’s been left in the wake.
There are bodies. So many scattered on the ground. Still and lifeless. Most wearing Rebel cuts, but some dressed in the Marx black uniform.
We hit a bump, and I bite back my squeal this time, until I realise the bump was actually us driving over a leg, and then I squeal for a different reason.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
That was a leg. Without a body attached to it.
I need to keep it together. Now’s not the time to freak out.
