Page 11 of Rough Choice

“Not tonight, honey; I have a headache.” Despite his attempts to keep a jovial mood, when Dhal went at him again with his fists, Kye couldn’t keep a thought inside outside of the pain. His already bruised ribs were cracking, his head was bleeding, and the lack of food and water was taking its toll. He couldn’t stop himself from losing consciousness.

* * *

Their next night on the road, Grier had finally succumbed to exhaustion. Now, while it was dark, he pulled to the back of another truck stop somewhere in Tennessee. When the back seats were down, they unrolled sleeping bags, and before Grier even climbed into his, he was passed out.

Knowing she only had a small window of opportunity, Eliana grabbed her bag and quietly exited the vehicle. Abutting the gas station was the standard convenience store, but this one also housed a twenty-four-hour diner. It was nearly vacant when she stepped inside, and the bell above the door rang delicately. The waft of diner-quality food smelled especially fragrant considering her last several meals had come out of a fast-food bag.

When she was seated and had ordered a coffee and dessert, she pulled her laptop out of her bag and plugged it in. Firing it to life, Eliana quickly pulled up her social media accounts and checked her emails, hoping to find any contact from Kye. There was nothing.

Pulling up the application that tracked her phone’s location, she was met with a message that read ‘no signal found’. Although frustrated, she wasn’t exactly surprised. She’d long suspected that Kye or Grier had taken her phone and smashed it, burned it or tossed it in the bathtub. Whatever it took to kill the signal. Even Grier was using a burner phone that he kept charging in the SUV. Though she didn’t know why. She never saw him using it or even checking it. So many times she’d wanted to reach over and try to find Kye’s number and call him. He must have read her thoughts at some point because out of the blue that afternoon he’d informed her that there were no numbers stored in the phone, and she wouldn’t be able to call anyone.

When the coffee came, Eliana was grateful for something to sip on. Hell, she was grateful to be out of the car. She was almost sure she was going to have sores on her ass from sitting so long, and she desperately needed a shower and a full meal. Without being able to resist, she pulled up the old records from Pine Hill. Having used this work computer to help her build defenses for criminals Max wanted free, there were still some documents available for her reading.

Most of it was useless jargon. Judicial loopholes she’d been able to exploit in her favor, but some of it was useful. While not directly incriminating, she wondered if any of it could be salvaged to trace back to Max or the MC. With nothing else to occupy her mind, she began reading and rereading everything she had stored. While she’d spent her youth loving everything about the courtroom, laws, and the art form of its interpretation, she now held a disdain for it. She’d seen firsthand how a murderer could walk free simply because an arresting officer didn’t say the exact right thing. It was sick.

Vowing at that moment, if she lived and they managed to get across the border to freedom, she swore to find a better way to work in the law. When she’d first decided to become a defense attorney she thought it would be to defend those who couldn’t or were unable to defend themselves. Now she realized the position was too fragile. You couldn’t always tell the bad guys from the good guys, and even if you could, it didn’t mean justice was served. Look at her present situation.

Max was a bad guy. His cronies were bad men. The criminals he’d sent her casefiles on were certainly bad men. And all of them were walking free. They didn’t have to worry about being held prisoner or spend their days looking over their shoulders. They could go anywhere they pleased. Do anything they wanted. They were free to commit the same crimes all over again.

Whereas Eliana, who believed herself to be a relatively good person, had spent the last couple of months entirely in captivity. While not a jail cell per se, it might as well have been. First, she’d been locked in her childhood home facing demons and ghosts of her past, and now she was, at times, quite literally locked in a vehicle. She wasn’t free to go anywhere and even if she didn’t manage to ditch Grier, she’d spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder. If Kye had failed their rouse, Max would never stop hunting her. Even dead, he’d find a way. She was sure of it.

No. She didn’t want any part of the song and dance that came with being a defense attorney anymore. Grier had told her they were going to Belize. Maybe there was something she could do there? Work with locals… Hell, what was she thinking? She’d never work in law again.

Sighing, she closed the lid to her laptop and pinched the bridge of her nose. She felt weary straight through to her bones. She missed Kye. He had this way of making everything seem better just by being in the room. If he was dead, she wouldn’t rest until she’d brought down every single Screaming Demon and personally locked them in cages. The local authorities might be on their payroll, most were likely too afraid to stand up to the club, but she wasn’t afraid anymore. She’d burn the place down if necessary.

What could she do from Belize? If that was really where they were going. Part of her didn’t believe it. Wasn’t it more likely Grier was playing another prank on her? He seemed to find a level of amusement in keeping her disoriented. Maybe it was revenge for her part in getting them in this mess, or maybe it was his personality to play the trickster. She hadn’t figured that out yet.

The possibility of going to Belize again, especially after so much agony the last several months, seemed euphoric. Her second summer at Harvard she’d gone to Belize over spring break with her girlfriends. Lyndsey’s uncle was an international pilot, and he’d hooked them up with his timeshare. It was a beautiful cabana nestled right along a public section of beach. The city had been alive with tourists when she was there, and the whole week had been nonstop sunshine, mojitos, and wide-open ocean.

Eliana found herself smiling at the memory. She could hardly remember what it was like to be so carefree, but it seemed just a little bit closer at the moment. It had taken some convincing from her friends to get her to go out dancing their second night there, but Eliana remembered the red dress she’d worn and how she’d danced until her flipflop broke. She could still hear the laughter and the samba music that had resounded from the four-man band. They’d stayed at a bonfire all night until the sun came up and had to sleep until noon.

Eliana’s eyes snapped open. She remembered something. When she’d been at the beach club where there was music and dancing, she’d seen something. Although admittedly slightly inebriated at the time, she’d still been triggered into a memory. When she and Lyndsey had gone to the bathroom together, they’d had to use a portable restroom outside and walked past a long line of parked Vespas and mopeds. Among them had been a Harley Davidson with chopper handles. Even at the time, Eliana had thought it unusual. She doubted any of the patrons in Belize could afford the expensive motorcycle, let alone leave it parked in the open.

As she’d stared at it, Eliana’s mind had wandered back to Kye and his stupid motorcycle club. The sight of it and the memory of her former boyfriend had put her into a slightly depressed mood she’d then buried under two more alcoholic beverages. Never having confided in Lyndsey who Kye was, not for a few more years anyway, she hadn’t said anything.

Now, looking back, Eliana wondered… had it been Kye there in Belize? He’d admitted to keeping tabs on her. Even Max had said Kye made regular trips down to Cambridge over the years to check up on her. Had Kye known she was going on that trip? Had he followed her to Belize? The idea of it made her head swim. Her spring vacation there had been, and still was, one of the happiest times of her life. Now it seemed more than ironic they were headed back that direction.

She wouldn’t put it past Kye to orchestrate this entire thing. That was the way he was. Always in the rafters, always behind the scenes pulling strings and guiding her life like some puppet master or guardian angel. In her heart, she’d wanted to return to the beautiful, warm location. Was there going there now a final act of kindness from Kye? Had he done his best to secure her happiness by sending her here?

More importantly… how could she ever be happy in beautiful Belize without Kye?

Eliana’s hair was tinged with gold as she lay sprawled on her stomach in the sunshine. In the distance, she could hear the rush of the ocean. Waves lapped at the shore, and seagulls cawed in a soothing manner. Her skin was kissed bronze with tan, and her eyes were blissfully closed. Lying with her back to him, he trailed a finger along the bare skin. It was warm to his touch, but he saw her shiver and small goosebumps appear. Her white bikini stood in contrast against her flushed skin, and she rolled her head to face him. Eyes still closed, she smiled.

He leaned forward and caught her mouth in a sweet kiss. Yet the moment he pulled away, she grabbed him by the back of the neck and rolled him on top of her to deepen the embrace. The feel of her underneath him made him hard. Her body seemed equally receptive as she snaked her legs around his waist. Her moans in his mouth sent shockwaves of desire through him, and he couldn’t stop himself from grinding against her. The feel of the sand beneath his hands and her writhing body was bliss. Pure bliss.

“Come on now, wake up.” A splash of cold water on his face was more welcome than a slap, but being pulled from his exquisite dream sure felt like one. Opening his eyes, he saw Max standing in front of him.

“I prefer Dhal,” he croaked, and Max grinned.

“I hear you two have been spending a lot of time together,” Max noted as he spun the metal chair around and straddled it. Draping his hands over the back, Max stared at him for a long, quiet moment. Kye did his best to meet his eyes, but he could hardly keep his feet underneath him, and either his right eye was swollen shut or it had fallen out. Kye wasn’t quite sure.

“Well, you know, never too late to make a new friend,” Kye managed to say. The pipe over his head had been leaking for the last several hours, and the filthy water that dripped from it made the cement floor slick.

“A smartass to the last,” Max observed with a chuckle. “I’d be proud if I wasn’t so damn disappointed in you.”

“I could say the same for you, Max,” Kye said and gave up trying to stand. He settled for dangling, his shoulders popping painfully in their sockets.

“How is that?” Max asked, folding his hands.