Page 5 of Rough Choice

“Go,” he said, but not to her. He was looking directly at Grier, their silent conversation taking place. Grier reached over, took the stump of a hand off the dash, and handed it to Kye over Eliana.

“You’ll need this,” he said and started the engine.

“Kye, no!” Eliana said and reached for her seat belt. He caught her arm and pulled her to look at him.

“I love you,” he said desperately, eyes locked on hers. She was shaking her head, words lost in her throat. “I’m right behind you. I promise.”

“Don’t send me away again; don’t do this,” she pleaded. Memories of the time he’d shipped her off this way with her father. Now he was doing it again, but this time with a man who’d already stated he had no problem killing her.

“This time, I’m coming after you,” he said, holding her face. He kissed her quickly, fiercely, and moved back to slam the door. Before she could protest again, Grier had gassed the engine, and they were speeding off, kicking up mud behind the tires.

* * *

Kye did his best to clean himself up. Sitting in the ranger’s jeep, he used rubbing-alcohol and gauze from the first aid kit to clean his face and hands. The body was stuffed in the trunk, and the grossly cut up appendage was on the seat next to him. Whether by fate or miracle, the short man had equally small hands, and although they were dirty, he hoped they looked petite enough to pass for a woman’s. Eliana’s to be precise.

Knowing he needed to swap out vehicles, it took him longer than he wanted to get back to the house and swap out the Jeep for his bike. He stashed the ranger’s vehicle in the garage where it wouldn’t be seen and collected the GPS. While inside, he stuffed the GPS, the cell phone, and Eliana’s cell he’d taken from her bag when she wasn’t paying attention, in the microwave and set the timer. The radiation was sure to kill any tracking devices that may be in place, not to mention any record of a signal.

Kye pulled his leather cut on, put the hand in a plastic bag, and brandished his helmet. Looking every bit the part of MC vice pres, he mounted his bike and sped off toward the clubhouse.

He could tell there was a full assembly. Riggs and his crew were causing mayhem at Jez’s. Hamilton’s usual crew were in the clubhouse drinking and cheering on a hockey game. Had circumstances been different, Kye would have been here right along with the rest of them. Now as he paced the clubhouse, watching with a feeling of dissidence, he felt like he was seeing the Screaming Demons with open eyes for the first time.

While most of the men seemed harmless, he could see the villains among them. They carried themselves like kings, their hands waving and beckoning for drink, food, or pussy. Kye could see the Wall Kats standing, waiting, their eyes dim and hollow. He’d never spent much time looking at them, but now he saw them. Truly saw them. Some looked like teenagers who’d gotten lost at the mall. Young and foolish and woefully unprepared for the world.

Then there were the others. Thin. Bruised. Staring at the ground while Demons monitored them. Hovered over them like pimps. In truth, that was likely what they were. How had he been so blind? How could he not have seen this? He’d been so singularly focused over the last ten years. Working to gain position and try in his own pathetic way to win Eliana over that he was completely ignorant of what was going on around him.

He’d built an empire on the backs of drug dealers, arms solicitors, and prostitution. Kye felt his stomach churning in knots. He’d thought part of him would be sad to leave the club, but at the moment he couldn’t stand to be around any of it. The whooping and hollering from the men, the moaning and groaning from the clubhouse rooms, the smell of beer, cigarettes, and gasoline was repugnant to him.

He slammed the door to Max’s office open without waiting for an invitation. To his shock, he saw Jez sitting on Max’s lap on the couch. She cast him a fleeting look of feigned surprise, and Kye returned it.

“Ever heard of knocking,” Max said coolly, and Jez subtly slipped off his lap and moved into the seat next to him.

“Here,” Kye said, without waiting. He tossed the hand onto the table in front of Max and stood glaring. Max reached forward, but instead of retrieving the bag, he picked up his brandy glass before leaning back and sipping it. “Don’t care to examine my handy work?”

“Is that meant to be a joke?” Max asked with a coughing laugh. Kye remained placid. “I know you put her in the hole,” Max said, crossing his legs. “Damned if the rain didn’t obscure the video you sent, but you did a good job of doing it within sight of the cameras. Very well thought out.” Kye couldn’t tell if his tone was patronizing or complimentary.

“Short of dragging her body in here, I didn’t want to leave any room for doubt,” Kye stated flatly. He wanted in and out and to be done with all of this. His contempt for the man in front of him tasted like vinegar in his mouth.

“You killed her?” Jez asked, playing her part well. Kye didn’t know why she’d returned, but it was probably better that she did. Too many missing people and Max was going to catch on. “That brunette lawyer you brought through the bar?”

“Yes, he killed her,” Max answered for him. “Strangled her, am I right?”

“I slit her throat, Max, you know that,” Kye said with gritted teeth. Even the idea of it made Kye’s eyes sting with tears.

“That’s right,” Max crooned. “How was that? Did she cry when she realized she’d been betrayed?”

“Yes,” Kye said quietly, remembering Eliana’s face when he’d sent her off again. “She cried and gagged on her own blood, and she died. If you don’t mind, I’ve given you enough information and proof, and you can go fuck yourself with it.”

“Ha!” Max bellowed, smile bright on his face. “That’s my boy.” Max struggled to stand. He crossed to him and placed a hand on Kye’s shoulder. “Good job, kid. You did a damn good job.”

So he was convinced. Then why was there a gleam in his eye? Kye turned when he heard the door open. Dhal stood there with a grin on his face and a gun in his hand.

It was dawn before Eliana was allowed to sit up. Grier had ordered her to sit on the floor of the SUV all night as he drove. Knowing that, despite her reeling mind, she’d drifted in and out of sleep. Her restlessness had given way to haunting dreams of shallow graves, severed body parts, and seeing Kye’s face in all of it. She had fleeting dreams of being chased by flocks of motorcycles and rattled in prison cells lined with paperwork. The droning nightmares ended when the car lurched, and she was jostled fully awake.

“Sorry,” Grier said, though his tone conveyed no remorse as she rubbed her head where she’d slammed it on the underside of the glove compartment. Eliana struggled to stretch from her position on the floor. Her back ached, her legs were asleep, and her arms felt heavy at her side. To say nothing of the lump forming on her head where she’d just hit it. “You can get up,” Grier said in the same flat tone.

“Thank God.” She sighed as she slid into the passenger seat. The blood rushed to her legs, and they tingled like needle pricks all the way to her toes. “Where are we?” she asked, looking around her. The terrain was very different from the Atlantic Northeast where they’d come from. It was flatter, and though there was some greenery, it was hardly the deciduous terrain they’d left the night before. “I know we’re going west,” she observed when Grier didn’t answer.

“Are we?” he asked in feigned ignorance. Eliana was too tired to roll her eyes, so she sighed instead.