Jesse’s distracted for a moment and looks at his companion. “What, that bitch should just get in the car. This should be simple.”
I pull my Glock from my waistband and point it at Jesse. “What should be simple?” I spit between clenched jaws.
“Mrs. Hayes is joining us for a chat,” the soldier says.
“Mrs. Hayes isn’t going anywhere with you at all.” I nod to Layne to tell her that she should come to me. Meanwhile, Paxton has his gun pointed at the soldier. “Hop on the back, Lay,” I say and she does as I ask.
Before these guys can even respond, I push my bike back, open the throttle and ride off. Pax follows me and it doesn’t take long before the first bullet flies past us.
Damn! Thank God the street is practically deserted. I twist my upper body, point my Glock in the direction the bullet is coming from and fire several times. As soon as we whiz around the corner, I turn back and focus on the road. What the fuck do they want from her? Does she know something after all? Hasn’t she been honest with me?
I set course for the Renegades’ compound when she suddenly shouts over my shoulder, “Rebel! I have to pick up Rebel!”
“Shit!” I exclaim, frustrated. “Where are we supposed to go?”
Layne shows me the way to a bungalow in the middle of one of Folsom’s residential neighborhoods, and a few doors down we stop. She dismounts and looks at me. “Will you wait for me?”
“Of course.” I nod.
She shivers, but then she straightens her back and strides toward the house with a determined look.
“What the fuck was that, Ky?” Pax’s face is contorted in pain.
I just shrug. Fortunately, it’s not long before Layne reappears with Rebel’s hand in hers. “This is Kyler, Reb. We’re going with him for a while, so I want you to sit on the back of his bike.”
“On the front,” I correct her and open an arm so Rebel can get on it.
Layne lifts her daughter and puts her between my legs. She presses a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you in a minute.” The tremor in her voice is back. Without looking at me, she walks to Paxton.
I start the engine and drive home. Dad’s going to be pissed off, but I don’t care. Without our intervention, Layne would’ve been kidnapped, and we don’t know what those guys planned for her.Areplanning.
The gates of our compound loom before me and relief surges through me. My heart rate finally slows down slightly and the adrenaline slowly leaves my body. It doesn’t take long for us to drive in, and I park my Indian in her regular spot next to the stairs. I throw my leg over the saddle and then lift Rebel off my bike.
“Hey, Shorts.” I bend through my knees and sweep a blond strand of hair behind her ear. I open my helmet and remove it from my head.
A smile appears on her face.
“I’m Kyler.” I extend my hand to her, which she takes and shakes.
“Rebel,” she whispers.
“Come on, let’s go see if your mother’s here yet.” I hold out my hand, in which she puts hers. A strange feeling of satisfaction courses through me.
After I straighten myself, we walk toward the other bikes. Layne is just getting off my little brother’s dark green Chief. She’s scanning the grounds, and then, spotting us, a smilegraces her lips as she approaches. Even though she walks fast, her unusual steps reveal that she’s holding herself back from running, to keep Rebel in the dark about what just happened.
As soon as she reaches Rebel, her arms come around the girl and she pulls her daughter close. “Did you have fun? At Piper’s and on the bike?”
Rebels puts her face in her mother’s neck and nods. The girl tells about a movie she watched with her friend. Luckily, she hasn’t got a clue what’s going on.
The entire scene warms my broken heart. It’s exactly like I always imagined Layne would be as a mother. People always say that the love for a child is unconditional and incomparable. I see that bond right in front of me and still can’t fully comprehend what it must be like. Shorts isn’t my daughter, obviously. I quickly rub over Layne’s arm and then I walk away.
Pax is standing next to his Indian and studies his arm. “Goddamn it,” he curses.
“What?” I frown and turn him around. Immediately I notice the blood covering his arm. He stumbles and grabs the saddle of his Indian. Before I can react, Layne’s fingers close around his wrist.
“Come with me,” she commands him, and drags him to the stairs which lead to my apartment. “Ky, open the door. I need tweezers, alcohol, a lighter, a needle, and thread.”
Jesus, is she… I only notice I stopped when Layne calls out “now!”
