Page 30 of Roughstock
She moved away from me as I started working on the middle hinge. Liz came back and said, “They’re across the street, drinking.”
“That will keep them busy until we can get out of here,” I reasoned as I was able to press the metal from the buckle into the palm of my hand and push the pin out of the hinge.
The door had one more hinge, and it was the hardest one to remove. I worried they would come back before I got it out, but somehow, luck was on my side. The last hinge pushed out and I tossed it to the side before standing up. Liz looked terrified as I tugged on the doorknob a few times, wedging the buckle against the other side using leverage. With concentrated effort, the edge opened a sliver.
“Help me,” I instructed, and she shoved her tiny fingers into the crack and pulled with all her might.
The door came open and the foul stench hit my nose again as I stepped out in front of her. Liz had her hand on my back as we took careful steps out of the room, unsure when our kidnappers would return. I leaned over and picked up the bat and gripped it tightly in my hands as we got closer to the door we entered the house through.
“I saw him leave the keys in the van, so unless he grabbed them, that’s our way out.”
“Are . . . are you sure?” she asked, as her head swiveled around, keeping an eye on what was going on around us.
I picked up the knife and gave her the bat as I explained, “We either do this, or suffer whatever fate those two assholes have planned for us. And I don’t like that at all. So, we make a break for it, or die trying.”
She straightened her spine and gripped the bat over her shoulder, ready to swing as we kept getting closer to the garage door. I placed my hand on the knob and listened to see if we could hear the men and their raucous laughter echoed through the house.
Carefully, I opened the door and peeked my head out to see if the garage door was still closed. With one thing going our way tonight, I helped get Liz out of the house, and with slow, quiet movements, we got into the van. The keys were still hanging from the ignition, and I said a silent prayer to the universe that it would crank on the first try.
I looked over at Liz in the passenger’s seat and said, “Buckle up and hold on.”
She nodded and strapped the seatbelt around herself before giving me a nod. The bat was across her lap, and she took it into her hands as I took a moment to calm down. My hands were shaking when I reached out and turned the key, bringing the loud motor to life.
“Hang on,” I said as I put the van in reverse.
Stomping on the gas pedal, the van flew backward, crashing through the garage door and out into the driveway. Immediately, I heard the men yelling as I glanced in the rear-view mirror. They were coming right for us, along with the three men they’d been drinking with, so I closed my eyes as I pressed thegas harder.
I felt a huge thump before the van rolled over something and I yelled to Liz, “Close your eyes!”
She did as I instructed as I kept going backward. I knew I’d hit at least three of them before the tires hit the road, and with as much speed as I could, I put the van in drive and romped on the accelerator, rocketing us away from our kidnappers.
Liz was sobbing with the bat still gripped in her hands. I didn’t recognize this part of Rapid City, and it took me a few minutes of driving to recognize the community of Box Elder, near the military base. Taking the highway entrance around a large, sweeping curve, I floored it, wanting to put as much distance between us and them as possible.
I needed to call Trent to let him know what’s going on, but I was terrified to stop until I saw the Royal Bastards clubhouse.If there was any place where we’d be safe, it was with the Bastards.
But after hearing the men’s conversation through the door, I wasn’t positive the Bastards were safe anymore either.
Chapter 18
Roughstock
We hit the streets of Rapid City, looking for the black van that took Cheyenne, but so far, we hadn’t found any trace of it. I was on the west side of town, rolling up and down streets, hoping for some luck. I’d called Cheyenne’s uncle, and after a brief moment of stunned silence, he said he would get some of the men who worked on his farm and start heading our way.
There were no guarantees, so I wanted everyone who could to be looking for her. Phantom led a group east to see if they were headed out of town, and he was set to check in with me in a few minutes. I noticed Jagger glance at me as I rolled through a stop sign and kept moving. If I didn’t keep looking, the thoughts of what she was enduring invaded my head.
We were heading toward the downtown area when Jagger held up his hand, motioning for me to stop. Pulling into a parking spot near one of the vintage clothing stores, I cut the motor as he spoke with someone on his headset.
His eyes grew wide, and he snapped his head in my direction as he said, “We’re on the way.”
“What? Did they find her?” I barked.
“Jigsaw and Raven were leaving Box Elder when they were nearly sideswiped by a black van. They tore off after it and found Cheyenne driving with some girl. She refused to pull over and is hauling ass to the clubhouse.”
“Are they still with her?” I yelled as we cranked our bikes. I drove up onto the sidewalk in front of me and turned back onto the street.
“They’re running front and back and have called other brothers to join them,” Jagger yelled as we shot down the road.
My heart was racing and my palms were sweaty as we flew through town. Red lights weren’t going to keep me from my wildcat, so we used parking lots, sidewalks, and lane splitting to move through the little bit of traffic still out this late.
