Page 31 of Roughstock
Jagger pushed his bike faster, keeping up with me as we got out of the congestion of Rapid City and closer to the ranch and clubhouse. Way up the road, I could see a trail of brake lights and a large vehicle that turned quickly into the gravel lot of the clubhouse. One by one, the lights turned with it, and when we got to the entrance, I saw Phantom speaking to someone through the driver’s side window of the van.
Skidding my bike into the lot, I didn’t even set the kick stand as I jumped off and sprinted to the van. I shoved Phantom to the side, and as soon as Cheyenne saw me, she flung the door open and practically jumped into my arms with tears streaming down her face.
I wrapped my arms around her as she cried into my shoulder, whispering, “You’re safe, darlin’. I’ve got you.”
Looking into the van, I saw a young girl with a baseball bat gripped tightly in her hands. Her eyes were locked on Cheyenne, and when Warhol attempted to open her door, she yelled, “Stay away from me!”
Her words broke the trance Cheyenne was in, and she dropped down, pushed me away, and sprinted back inside the van. She spoke to the woman and carefully took the bat from her, then she nodded to Warhol.
The woman’s eyes were wide open but filled with tears as she watched Warhol open the door and offer her a hand. Imoved closer to the open driver’s door and heard Cheyenne say, “It’s okay, Liz. This is my friend, Matt, and he’s going to help you. I promise, you’re safe.”
Liz trembled as she reached her hand out to Warhol, allowing him to help her out of the van. Cheyenne gave Liz a nod before she turned and started to climb back out of the van. Her eyes were filled with pain as she looked up at me and said, “We have to make sure she’s okay, Trent.”
Cheyenne never called me by my name in front of the brothers, so I knew this was serious. Pulling her close to me, her eyes tracked away from me, and when I followed her line of sight, I watched as Warhol helped Liz inside.
“Let’s get inside so you can tell me what happened and how you got away from them.”
“I think . . . I think I killed them,” she said, and her eyes filled with tears. I gave Phantom and Jagger a look.
They gave me the same look, silently agreeing there was no way she was going down for killing her kidnappers.
Carefully, I walked with her into the clubhouse and all eyes were immediately on us. There were a few of the older brothers who couldn’t join us in the search, and the others who were on the road looking were either on their way back or already here.
Cheyenne looked around, and when she saw Liz, she started to move away from me, but I wasn’t letting her out of my sight for the foreseeable future. Maybe not ever.
When we got close to the booth where Liz and Warhol were sitting, Cheyenne slid in beside Liz. No one was speaking in the clubhouse, and I wanted to give them some privacy, so I interjected before Cheyenne saidanything.
“Why don’t we go into my office? You’ll be more comfortable there, and you’ll have more privacy.”
Cheyenne looked at me and nodded before sliding back out, keeping hold of Liz’s hand as she stood. Together, the women walked through the sea of badass bikers who were smiling down at them in awe. I moved ahead to unlock the door and walked inside to turn the lights on.
Warhol stood in the open doorway as I looked at Cheyenne and Liz, who had taken a seat on the leather couch along the side wall. “Is it okay if a few of my men join us, so we can make sure there’s not still a threat?”
“Liz, is that okay?” Cheyenne asked, and she gave a quick nod.
Warhol raised his hand behind him, then Phantom and Jagger joined us before Warhol closed the door. Music started, and I was grateful the brothers were trying to give the ladies some privacy. But knowing them, they were all ready for war and were just waiting for the word on where we were riding out to.
I walked to the mini fridge beside my desk and grabbed two bottles of water, handing them to the ladies. Then, I took a seat and let my ol’ lady lead the conversation.
“I’m going to tell what I saw so the guys have something to go on, then I need to ask you some questions. Are you good with that?” Cheyenne asked, and Liz nodded as she took a deep swallow from the bottle.
Listening to Cheyenne recount her ordeal, I was grateful she was industrious and nothing bad happened to her. I’d hoped the same for Liz, and when Cheyenne got to the end, where she nearly ran Raven and Jigsaw off the road, I couldsee her exhale some of the fear that seemed to still be coursing through her veins.
She reached over and took Liz’s hand into hers and asked, “Can you tell me where they took you from?”
“I was visiting some friends in Pierre and was at a gas station when the van pulled up beside me and someone yanked me inside. I tried to fight, but they . . . tied me up and pointed a gun at me, saying I was the perfect bait.” Her eyes cast down and then she looked up at Cheyenne before adding, “I’m so sorry I brought you into this.”
Cheyenne reached over and pulled the woman into a hug. “None of this is your fault, and I don’t want you to blame yourself. The blame belongs to those men who took us and the man who made them do it.”
“What man?” I asked, standing from my seat to lean on the edge of the desk.
“When they locked us in the room, I could hear them speaking through the door. They said the man who was going to pay them for us had to give a good faith effort to look for me before he could get to the house to get us.”
Jagger’s eyes grew wide, and he leaned closer as I asked, “Did you hear them say a name, wildcat?”
She closed her eyes, and when she looked at me, she said something that made no sense. “They said his name was Blindspot, or at least, that’s what it sounded like.”
Warhol looked confused and Jagger seemed irritated, but Phantom stood from his chair and wrenched the door open. The women jumped at his sudden move, and I raced to the door to see him stalking through the clubhouse, looking around. He focused on someone, and the brothers parted likethe sea as he moved to them and pulled them from their chair by the front of their cut.
