Bones walked over to me and drew a switchblade from his jeans pocket. He grabbed me by the hair, close to the nape of my neck, and pulled my head back roughly. “Listen closely, chica loca. I’m going to untie you now, and you’re going to be a good girl. You behave, no one will harm a hair on your head. You act a fool and carry on… you and I are going to have a very different conversation. Maybe you’ll find out why they call me Bones,comprendes?” I nodded as much as I could with my hair in his grip. He slowly released his hold and knelt to cut the zip ties around my ankles
“Come on, come on, come on, I’m about to burst!” Seriously, I will lose all my street cred if I pee my pants on camera! I heard the snap of the zip ties breaking and was up and running toward the stairs. Bones grabbed my arm and ran with me out of the cellar. And it really was an old cellar converted into a cell. I didn’t have time to admire the scenery as I ran toward a building in the distance screaming, “IT’S HAPPENING!” over and over. Bones wrenched the door open and basically shoved me into a small powder room. After taking the longest piss of my life and sending up prayers of gratitude to Bob, I washed my hands and exited the bathroom.
Bones stood across from the door with his tatted arms crossed over his chest, silently shaking in laughter. I raised an eyebrow in question, and Bones took a calming breath before saying, “Sorry, chica loca. I’ve never heard anyone thank God for toilet paper before.”
I brushed past him and down the hall, muttering, “Well, you obviously have never been homeless and in the throes of post-dumpster curry diarrhea.”
Bones snorted. “You got me there.” He grabbed my elbow and steered me to the left and down another hallway. The door to my right opened, and Bones towed me inside. Releasing my arm, he went to sit in the last empty chair at a long rectangular table.
At the head of the table sat Duke. To his right was Priest, and to his left was Bones. I scanned the room, recognizing Cricket, Pyro, the guy I Xena warrior kicked, and noticed a few strangers. I wasn’t sure if the royal protocol was in effect or not; I’d never met with a president in a non-murder basement capacity. I decided to play it safe and curtsy. Rising and smiling magnanimously, I gave the room a queen wave. Priest looked disgusted, Bones and Cricket looked slightly amused, and everyone else looked confused. Well, except for Duke. He just looked sad.
“Someone care to explain what’s going on?” This came from the victim of my flying ninja kick. He looked at Duke and then back at me, confusion all over his face. “Since when do we let people go after they attack the club?” Priest was doing that jaw clench–muscle tick thing again. Why is that so hot?
“Bard,” Priest said in answer, “you’re looking at the woman who killed the Southwestern Strangler.” Every eye in the room was suddenly on me. I felt like I was the new kid in school, and my teacher had just instructed me to introduce myself to the class. Or that was at least what I thought this feeling was. I had never been to school, so I was kind of going out on a limb here, metaphorically.
“Hey. Hi. Uhm, President Duke, I don’t know who the Southwestern Strangler even is, so unfortunately you have the wrong girl. The only guy I’ve killed lately was Hoodie Guy. And he had it comin’.”
Duke looked at Priest and heaved a heavy sigh. “There’s no doubt in my mind, Girl. Turns out your Hoodie Guy was a serial killer known asthe Southwestern Strangler, one Roger Slyzec by name. He’d been active for about ten years, maybe more. He’s been suspected of over a dozen murders, but the law could never get enough evidence against him. Los Cuervos have been hunting him for the past two years.”
“Oh, well he’s deader than a doornail now. Thanks for your hospitality and everything. Can Sheila and I go now?” I mean, to be honest, their hospitality left a lot to be desired. I was smacked around, almost peed my pants, and saw nary a chocolate or a pillow to place it on.
Duke cleared his throat. “Well, that’s the thing, Girl. It’s us who should be thanking you. Two years ago, my daughter Ellis went missing. Eventually, they found her body in Carson City. She had drugs in her system, sedatives, and she had been… violated. A lock of her hair was missing. The police already suspected Slyzec, but they could never get enough physical evidence to pin it on him. We’ve been trying to find him, to get justice for Ellis and all the other poor girls he hurt. We hoped we’d be the ones who ended the bastard.” Priest glared at me while Duke explained. Duke looked devastated, but Priest’s expression was one of fiery rage. I didn’t know why he looked so mad; he should be happy he no longer had to hunt Hoodie Guy. I bet his weekends just opened up! I gave Priest a thumbs-up, encouraging him to find a new hobby.
Apparently, Priest didn’t appreciate my gesture. He sneered, “You also did a piss-poor job burying a body on our land. If someone else had come across the fucker, Los Cuervos could have taken heat for his murder. The cherry on top of this shit sundae is your attack on us over a van of all things.”
I shook my head; he could never understand the bond between survivors like Sheila and me. Life dented us, but we kept rolling, turning those blemishes into beguiling facets of our effervescent personalities.
I sighed, praying to Bob for patience, and explained, “I don’t mean to interrupt your sermon, Priest, but you and me need to get a few things straight. First of all, I don’t appreciate your tone regarding my best bitch, Sheila. You don’t know how long she was stuck with that Slyzec monster, and I shudder to think of the things she witnessed. We made it out of there together, and she’s mine now. Second, I know how to bury someone so they stay buried. It’s really not that hard. Even you could doit. Second subsection A, Ichoseto bury him in a shallow grave because Ihopedthe coyotes would get after him and turn him into literal shit because that’s the least of what he deserved. In summary, fix your face. Your Honor.” I turned to Duke, “I rest my case.”
Priest narrowed his eyes at me and opened his mouth, but before he could congratulate me on my breathtaking defense, Duke interrupted. “I think we’re getting off topic. Girl, Los Cuervos MC owes you a debt of gratitude. If you ever need help, come to the clubhouse or any of our places of business and tell them you need to see Duke. We won’t forget what you’ve done for our family. Now, Bones will take you to get cleaned up and fed, then someone will take you and Sheila home. Where do you live?”
“Well, I was living in my first favorite alleyway in Reno. It’s behind this little Greek restaurant and a pawn shop. Creepy Steve tried to snag my primo spot by the dumpster, but I threatened to cut off his thumbs, so he backed off. And I’d have done it, too. My garbage kitties like to have enrichment time in that dumpster. Now that I have Sheila, though, I guess the world is our oyster. Maybe we’ll go on a road trip!”
A frown turned Duke’s lips down in the corners. “So you’re homeless? And you plan to live in your van?”
Priest snickered cruelly. “Just look at her, prez. Of course, she’s fucking homeless. She’s batshit crazy, and she looks it. I say we let her go. She’s not our problem.” Rude. I looked down at my clothes. I mean, they weren't the best or the cleanest, that was true. To be fair, I was almost fuckingabducted, so I felt like I deserved a pass on the rat’s nest my hair was imitating. And I couldn’t help that my face was mangled. His asshat friend smacked me around.
“Wow.” I slow clapped. “All that from a man of the cloth? You try living in an alleyway and getting abducted by a killer and tell me exactly how effortlessly beautiful YOU look.”
“For fuck’s sake!” Priest snarled, standing up so quickly his chair was shoved backward. “My name is Priest. I’m not A PRIEST.”
“ENOUGH.” Duke was standing now too. “I didn’t ask for your damn opinion, Priest. Keep running that mouth and see what happens.” He looked at me and softened his tone. “You got any family, Girl? Someone we can call to come collect you?”
I didn’t have any family, exceptthefamily… and I definitely didn’t want them coming tocollectme. My heart started to beat rapidly, and my palms were beginning to sweat. My panic must have shown on my face, a moment of weakness I regretted when Priest sneered.
“Uh-oh, prez, looks like you struck a nerve. Dumpster-diving Barbie doesn’t want you to call Daddy to come fetch her. What’s wrong? Did you drop out of college, or did you just snort your allowance up your nose, and you’re afraid he’ll find out?” Priest looked at me like he hated me; I could have been dog shit on his shoe, judging by the look on his face as he tore strips off me with his eyes. I knew that look. Uncle Roark gave me that look every time I angered him. It was the look that preceded pain. I could feel the blood draining out of my face, and my heart felt like it was trying to run away from its home in my chest.
“You,” I started, but my choppy breathing kept me from being able to get the panicked words out of my mouth. My thoughts flew through my mind like frantic birds, terrified and desperate to get free from the cage of my mind. “I…no. I can’t—” I felt like I was trying to sip air through a straw when what I needed was to chug that shit. I couldn’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. “You don’t know…I can’t…” I heard a high-pitched noise ringing in my ears. Blackness ate at my vision, and I was vaguely aware that for the second time in as many days, I was getting ripped from consciousness. It wasn’t nearly as pretty this time.
Chapter 4
The Girl
I came to lying on a table or cot of some kind. I slowly blinked my eyes, trying to remember how I got here. I felt hazy like I did after I experienced my first flu. Once the worst was over and I was on the mend, my body felt like it was moving underwater, and every small movement cost more energy than it should. Weak, wobbly…hazy. I slowly began to sit up when I was startled by a hand on my shoulder.
Instinctively, I grabbed the offending hand and bent it backward toward the wrist. I turned my shoulder so I could throat-punch whoever thought it was a good idea to touch me. Before my fist made contact, a voice I recognized called out, “Chica loca, you’re okay! No one is going to hurt you. Let Ratched go. Estas segura aqui.” I let go of Ratched, whoever he was, and looked at Bones standing in the doorway.
“What happened?” I looked from Bones, who had entered the room and sat in a chair near the bed on which I was lying, to the new guy who was massaging his wrist. I realized that I had seen him before, in thechurch room. He was one of the men seated at the table. Ratched cleared his throat.
