Broken Road Page 9

  “Baby… You’re not going to believe this.”

  Her hands shook as she passed her cell phone to Colt.

  “I heard.”

  “Our house is gone.”

  A tear streamed down her face. She was beside herself.

  “I know,” Colt said pulling Averi into his arms. “Don’t worry, though. This will be taken care of. Your uncle called. They have four guys in custody.”

  Averi let out a sigh of relief.

  “Oh, that’s good…”

  “Was Jimmy and Trent among them?” Averi said with a hopeful look upon her face.

  Colt’s heart sank.

  “No… not yet at least.”

  “I loved that house.”

  Colt pulled her in tight and she rested her head on his chest. She wanted to cry, but she refused to allow herself to because she knew that they were lucky. She wiped away the stray tear and put on a brave face. One day earlier, and they might have been dead.

  “Colt…” said Averi as she looked up in his eyes.

  “Yeah, hun?”

  “Git ‘em and get home safe.”

  “You know I will… Lock the doors”

  Leaving Averi in the bedroom, Colt ran down the stairs where, much to his surprise, he found Tim waiting by the front door with a steely gaze cemented on his face. He knew.

  “Let’s go…” Tim said as he swung open the front door.

  Beating the ground with his determined gait, anger poured out of Tim. When he didn’t hear Colt coming behind him, Tim turned around. His eyes like daggers, he said coolly, “It’s time to take care of these jerk offs once and for all. Randy is meeting us later. The Devils are stirrin’ up trouble all over the damn place.”

  “Cheyenne?”

  Tim nodded.

  Colt knew that there was no other way. There were too many of the Devils for the police to handle and when you want to take down the lawless, sometimes you have to bend the rules. As Colt got in the passenger seat, Tim hit the gas and the truck veered down the country road with the Seventy Devils headquarters in its sights.

  ***

  “I thought you knew what the fuck you’re doing?!”

  “How could you not know that they left town?!”

  “Is this a goddamn joke?! You’re covering for your brother, aren’t you?!”

  “What now?!”

  Jimmy Hearns had a furious look upon his face as he listened to the questions thrown at him for the past hour. He didn’t say anything. He kept his mouth shut and took mental note of who was running their mouths. Until one voice rang out over the rest. Mick Penn, an often silent but seasoned member of the Devils opened up his mouth.

  “When y’all gonna realize that this joker ain’t his father?! Take his money and kick him out!”

  Jimmy was surprised when he heard other voices rise up in approval. Leaning in to him, Gunnar Rhoades said, “You need to make a stand.”

  Holding his hand up, Jimmy let Gunnar know that he had the situation under control. Reaching in the back pocket of his jeans, he pulled out a semi-automatic and sent a bullet flying into Mick Penn’s eye socket.

  As he fell to the ground, Jimmy rose up with a vindictive glare in his eye.

  “Let me remind you who is in charge around here. You’re here to do my bidding… Not the other way around. Somebody clean that mess up!”

  Trent Myers, far from being an upstanding member of society, stared at Jimmy in shock. But when Jimmy turned around and glared at him, he quickly grabbed Mick’s boots and with the help of Gunnar, drug him out of the room.

  ***

  Randy stepped out of his pick-up truck at 72 Herring Way and slammed his door shut. His eyes peered around him, keeping a close watch on his surroundings. Cheyenne lived in a rough part of town, and this was Devil territory. A place that Randy was not welcome.

  The front window had been broken and now sheets of plywood covered it to prevent anyone from breaking in. The front door was badly battered. Randy could see where it was kicked in, black boot marks scuffed the surface and the one frame of the window was broken. Looking over his shoulder once more to make sure no one was approaching, Randy knocked at the door four times and waited for someone to answer.

  He was nervous. He didn’t know what he would find, but he did hope that Cheyenne was okay. Averi was right. He did love her. Too much. That is why he had put on the hard front. Randy was hurting inside and he wasn’t the type of guy that spoke about emotions freely.

  The curtain rustled in the door pane and a pair of eyes stared out at Randy. Quickly, the door opened and Gina West, Cheyenne’s mother, berated him.

  “What the hell do you want?!” Gina asked.

  Not missing a beat, Randy was not fazed by her attitude.

  “Have you seen Cheyenne?”

  “I was about to ask you the same question!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “All she can seem to talk about is you… and I haven’t seen her since last night since she left the bar with Trent.”

  “With Trent.”

  “Guess she figured you weren’t ever coming back… Can’t even call her. Are you trying to drive her off the deep end?!”

  “Gina, I don’t have time for your issues and hers. When you see her tell her I was here…”

  Gina laughed in Randy’s face.

  “You know I won’t!”

  And with that she slammed the door leaving Randy standing on the sidewalk fuming and even more concerned for Cheyenne’s well-being. Gina was not the type of mother that had your back. She let her daughter walk out with a notorious drug dealer. A guy notorious for using women and discarding them when they were no longer of use to him.

  “Fucking low life,” Randy muttered as he walked back to his truck. He had two more stops to make. Randy was hoping like hell that he’d find Cheyenne. He had a bad feeling. Something was telling him that he had to act fast.

  Dropping his head into his hands, Randy muttered, “Please be okay.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cheyenne’s head pounded as her eyes slowly opened. Her face was sore, and she knew it had bruised overnight. There was a banging sound echoing through the room and she swore that she heard yelling, but she wasn’t sure if she was still dreaming or not. She wished last night was a figment of her imagination. Unfortunately, it was her reality.

  She felt unwell. Thin and stretched out like a piece of cloth pulled taut across a table, its fibers and weaving coming undone from the strain. A light shone through the battered mini blinds that hung in Trent Myers’ bedroom. His house was in shambles. There were holes in the walls where his temper had gotten the best of him. There was trash everywhere, needles, drug paraphernalia littering the carpet that hadn’t been cleaned since his mother passed away. Lord only knows what kind of things it had growing and living in the fibers. Repulsed by her surroundings, she pulled herself off the bed, thankful that she was not still tethered to the headboard.

  She didn’t see Trent anywhere. The knocking had ceased but her head had not stopped pounding. Then she heard a door open and slam shut. It had to be him. Scrambling to get dressed, Cheyenne pulled on her jeans and her white top, slipped on her shoes and hid in a corner. An odd scent attacked her sense of smell. There was a pizza box with mold growing in it, along with a hearty collection of empty beer cans that had been thrown carelessly in the corner. Cheyenne could hear Trent talking to someone. It sounded like he was on the phone. Standing perfectly still, she closed her eyes as she listened.

  “You’ll never guess who came knocking today…”

  “No. Fucking Randy. I didn’t have a chance, he left before I could…”

  The voice on the other end of the line continued.

  “It don’t matter. He came calling for Cheyenne. I have her locked in the bedroom upstairs. She’s our ticket. I bet you she knows where they are living!”

  Her mind raced as she listened to Trent’s words. Randy had come for her. There were going to use her to
get to him.

  What did they want with Randy?

  Not allowing herself another moment to mull it over, Cheyenne bolted from her corner. She tried to open the window but it was nailed shut. She could hear his footsteps approaching. Her mind was frantic, trying to think of an escape plan. Her eyes zoned in on a chair sitting at a table on the far side of the room. Not wasting time, she ran for it, clearing the trash of the seat. As she began to drag the chair across the room, she noticed something green on table. A pile of cash. Considering it a down payment for all the pain he had caused her, Cheyenne swiped it, not thinking twice. As the sound of Trent’s footsteps echoed down the second floor hallway, Cheyenne sent the chair crashing through the bedroom window. As she climbed onto the windowsill, Trent charged through the bedroom door with a crazed look in his eyes. As he went to grab her, a smile creased her face and she jumped twenty feet to the pavement below.

  ***

  Randy got back in his truck, pulled his door shut and cast a venomous look out his windshield. He had knocked on Trent's door for over ten minutes, but no one came to the door. In a moment of pure rage, he balled his hands into fists and slammed them on the steering wheel. There were relationships that were difficult; filled with drama and heartache. There were relationships that were toxic, with no semblance of good in them. But then there was Randy and Cheyenne. They had a history. They knew what buttons to press with each other. They knew how to piss each other off. But no matter what, no matter what she put him through he would always be there for her... and no matter how many times Randy's rough nature pushed her away, she would always go running right back to him. Rubbing his right hand over the back of his head, the same way he always did when he was frustrated and at his wit's end, Randy tried to channel his anger. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm down. He failed. All he could see was Cheyenne's face. He wanted to escape the drama. Escape the constant fighting. But now without her, he couldn't escape the nagging feeling that what he was doing was wrong. What if Averi was right? What if she was taken advantage of? What if she had no clue what was going on? He believed in his heart that Cheyenne was a good person. He knew she was. He had seen it in action. But he simply couldn't watch her fall down the rabbit hole, anymore. It killed him. It was still killing him. He needed her in his life, but he needed to be able to trust her.

  That is when he saw it. A red blur running down Corriander Lane, Cheyenne had jumped from Trent's bedroom window and was bolting down the street. Eyes wide, he watched as the love of his life ran in fear from an as of yet unseen threat. Randy wanted to chase after her. Hold her. Tell her it would be alright. But he knew she wasn't running from just anything. He would wait until the bastard that she was running from showed his face. He wouldn't have to wait long. Less than a minute later, Trent showed his ugly face. Straddling his Harley, Trent raced after Cheyenne with his lip snarled and his mind burning with thoughts of what he would do to her to make her pay for her transgression.

  "You'll pay mother fucker. Trust that," Randy said as he slammed on the gas and catapulted the truck up Corriander lane.

  ***

  Cheyenne's breath hitched and her lungs felt like they were going to explode. Her fingers grabbed hold of a chain link fence. She pulled herself over and fell to the ground on the opposite side. Not even bothering to brush herself off, she kept going, running, dodging obstacles and putting more distance between her and Trent. He had the edge on the road, so she went off-road, running through backyards and swerving down narrow alleys where Trent couldn’t find her. She had no clue that Randy was just feet behind her trying to run Trent Myers off the road. She wouldn't allow herself the glance back out of fear that Trent would be there, ready to take her down. Swerving down a dark alley, Cheyenne had no idea that she was running towards almost certain death.

  ***

  Tim pulled his truck into the parking lot of the Seventy Devils Headquarters and came to a grinding halt. Colt looked around with a perplexed look on his face.

  “There’s nobody here!”

  “Where the hell are they?” asked Tim. The hair on his arm stood on end.

  “I don’t know. Maybe lying low. Shawn said they arrested four last night and one yesterday afternoon.”

  “Could be.”

  Colt got out of the truck and stalked around the perimeter of the building looking for any signs that anyone was in there. He peeked inside a window, but the hall was empty with only a dim light on hanging over the pool table. Colt didn’t notice the shadow of Jimmy’s hand resting on the windowsill. He didn’t see the look of hatred being cast his way… and he most certainly did not see the gun resting in Jimmy’s left hand.

  Jimmy took the safety off, careful not to move out of the shadow, but he didn’t discharge the bullet just yet. He had Colt right where he wanted him. But while Jimmy was mustering up the nerve, Colt had walked away. Out of the corner of his eye, Colt saw something, someone running fast across the gravel parking lot. A woman in a red hoodie and jeans ran as fast as she could, her sneakers beating hard against the ground. She nervously looked behind her to see if anyone was following her and when she didn’t see anyone, she kept running. Colt saw her, though and he had to do a double take.

  “Cheyenne?” he yelled calling across the parking lot hoping to gain her attention. “Cheyenne!”

  “What the hell’s gotten into her?”

  “I don’t know but she looks spooked.”

  Cheyenne wasn’t alone though. The sound of a motorcycle ripped up Corriander Lane and zipped past where Tim and Colt were parked.

  Trent Myers chased behind Cheyenne straddling the back of his Harley. He had Cheyenne in his sights, and under no circumstances was he going to allow her to get away. Cheyenne ran, out of breath but determined to get away. She ran like a bat out of hell, jumping a chain link fence and bolting down an alleyway until she sped out of sight. Colt and Tim calmly watched the action, until they saw someone familiar speeding after Trent.

  "Shit."

  Randy's truck was going ninety miles an hour up tiny Corriander Lane, creeping up on Trent's bike. He was right on his ass. Colt took one look at Randy's face and said to Tim, "Better call 5-0. The shit just hit the fan."

  "C'mon..." Tim said putting his keys back in the ignition, but by the time they had reached the stop light, Randy and Trent were long gone.

  ***

  “Hello?” Averi asked.

  There was silence on the line, all except for the low gasp of breathing on the other end. The caller ID said private.

  “Hello?” Averi asked again.

  The person on the other end didn’t say a word, but they laughed. It was a cold sound and goosebumps developed across her skin.

  “Who is this?”

  Click.

  “Ave, who’s on the phone?” Shelly asked with a concerned look on her face.

  Gulping as she hung up the phone, Averi responded, “Must have been a wrong number.”

  ***

  “C’mon son of a bitch!” Randy yelled winding through the streets of South Oakeley.

  He was right on Trent’s ass. It looked like Randy was trying to run Trent off the road. Hell, he probably was.

  “Pull over!”

  Trent didn’t respond, continuing to weave through the back roads, not giving a damn who got hurt in the process. Randy’s truck was not meant to barrel up tiny streets such as these. The thought did not occur to him though as he chased down the guy who had preyed on Cheyenne since they were in high school.

  Trent kept his eyes on the road ahead of him, trying to plan out his next move. Randy was right behind him, and he knew his reputation well. If given the opportunity, Randy wouldn’t hesitate to put him out of commission. Zipping down Farringer Street, Trent’s bike screeched, careening out of control with a Black Ford F-150 in the way. Tim’s truck had blocked his path. Trent skidded off his bike, sending him flying to the ground landing under Tim’s truck. The only part not under the belly of the Truck was his head. Trent watch
ed as Colt’s boot stomped the ground just inches from his feet. Pulling him up by his collar, Colt slammed him against the hood of the trunk.

  “What did I tell you about leaving the women in this town alone?!”

  “I haven’t gone near Averi!”

  “I know, because you’d be fucking dead.”

  “Get off of me!”

  Randy brought his vehicle to a stop and walked over to where Colt had Trent gripped up against the truck. Randy tapped Colt’s arm letting him know he could let him go, but before Trent could let out a sigh of relief, he sent a fist flying for his nose. The same nose that he had broken twice before.

  “Fuck!” Trent yelled as blood gushed from his nose, dripping over his mouth, chin and the ground below.

  “What did you do to her?!” Randy screamed.

  Trent laughed through his pain. He wasn’t going to give Randy the benefit of having the upper hand.

  “Motherfucker!” Randy screamed as he rammed his elbow into Trent’s mouth. “Stay the hell away from her!”

  Trent kicked him off, sending Randy flying backwards. This only pissed him off further.

  “Trust me. She’s mine. She’ll want what I have. She’ll be going through withdraw soon enough,” Trent said with a callous tone to his voice.

  “Not if I have anything to do with it,” Randy insisted.

  “She’s not yours. Not anymore.”

  “The last time I checked she is a person. A grown woman. Not a fucking possession. Her parents might not care what happens to her. You might not care about what happens to her… but if she is hurt, so help me God, Trent. You’ll be a dead man.”

  Randy let Trent’s jacket go as he backed away. “I’m not joking. If you’ve hurt her… touched her in a way she didn’t allow… I’ll fucking put a bullet in your brain.”

  Trent skulked off, running towards the street corner and retreating down Monument Avenue. He left his bike in shambles in the middle of the street. As they watched him leave, Colt grabbed Randy’s attention.