Stephanie Tyler - Redemption

They were deep. It had been a serious suicide attempt. I stared at her and Bish came up from behind her and said, “We’re not going to hurt you. I’m sure the LoV didn’t promise that.”

“They didn’t,” she agreed, her voice a raw tremble. “Who are you?”

“The guys who saved you.”

I tugged her along persistently. She was so damned pale and shaky and I let go of her only long enough to scoop her up into my arms. I stared at Bish and he knew what I wanted to ask. Instead, he told her, “There’s a doctor where we’re taking you.”

“They didn’t rape me,” she bit out. “But they would’ve.”

That last part was more question than anything and I nodded before settling her into the backseat behind us. Bish went back to the scene and I shut the door behind him and turned on a battery-powered fan to get the air moving.

“What’s going on?” she asked me.

Where to start? I grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to her, letting her break the seal so she wouldn’t think I was trying to drug her. She drank greedily and then said, “You don’t talk.”

I nodded.

“Can you hear at all or are you reading lips?”

I held up a finger to indicate the first and she looked at my throat like she was expecting to see a scar. Didn’t know if I was pulling her chain and I liked that she was suspicious.

At that moment, the back doors of the van opened and Bish dragged Charlie into the back of the van, already tied, gagged and unconscious, put him in a partition in the back where Jessa wouldn’t see him.

But she knew we hadn’t killed him. I wondered if she was grateful or angry.

She kept looking back toward where Bish had put Charlie.

“He’s alive,” Bish told her. “We didn’t hurt him. Much.”

“I wouldn’t care if you did.” She was so tightly wound, didn’t know if she was out of the frying pan and into the fire or not.

I told her, We won’t do what they threatened you with.

Bish took a moment before he translated, probably because he thought a constant state of fear was the best weapon. Fuck, Bish would’ve gone far in the pre-Chaos military or CIA. I didn’t even know if the latter existed to protect anymore or if spies were only out for themselves.

Kian would know. The new head of the Kill Devils was former CIA—he’d been kicked out pre-Chaos. But he was tight-mouthed. And although he and Caspar were on good terms, trusting another MC wasn’t the best idea.

Finally, Bish told her she’d be safe with us—she’d kept her eyes on mine the whole time she was waiting for Bish to translate. But even after he did, she wouldn’t relax, because she’d seen what we could do.

I’d seen what she could do too, and I should’ve handcuffed her to the door. But Bish and I were faster, so I let her sit there, her legs curled up to her chest, as Bish got into the passenger’s side and I drove away from the scene of the crime.

“What a fucking mess,” Bish muttered.

Yeah , and it’s going to get traced back to Defiance soon enough , I signed. Because even though there weren’t witnesses left—or anyone who’d seen us at the lake—Keller and the LoV knew we were in the area and that Defiance was more than capable of that level of violence.

Granted, Bish and I could save the club the problems this was going to bring them because we didn’t wear the Defiance cuts yet. It wouldn’t blow back on the MC. That was the only thing we had going for us at the moment. Whether we retained that advantage remained to be seen.

Since we hadn’t done this on behalf of Defiance, it meant that Caspar could easily hand us right over to Keller or the LoV to escape the inevitable retribution.

“He won’t do that,” Bish said. I’d been thinking out loud again, my hand flying as the other gripped the wheel.

Never know what someone will do to save their entire livelihood and the people who need him , I answered back. There wasn’t any anger in what I said—hell, Caspar’s MC fed and housed a lot of people, and to put that in jeopardy for two random hotheads who hadn’t bothered to agree to wear the club’s cuts yet...

Bish’s question to Jessa ripped me away from my worries.

“Why are you so important?” he asked her bluntly. But he knew—we both knew. The president’s son wasn’t easy to forget. Charlie Taylor had always been in the news—he dated movie stars and ran with a wild crowd. He was also being groomed for a life in politics and before the Chaos, any trouble he’d gotten into had been easily smoothed over, thanks to his family’s position and money. Since the Chaos, I hadn’t heard shit about him.

Jessa shrugged at Bish’s question but the fact that she was with the president’s son meant something.

Maybe she’s just a hanger-on , I signed. Maybe he picked her up before he got kidnapped. Then again , she was too pissed at him to have just met him. That kind of anger only comes after someone you’ve known for a long time betrays you.

“Love it when you argue with yourself,” Bish drawled, then signed to me, She’s the vice president’s daughter , when Jessa remained silent.

Shit. I didn’t glance back at her, clutched the wheel more firmly as the rain pounded the van. I didn’t know how Bish figured that one out, but it made sense. But how had the LoV gotten to them in their underground bunkers in D.C.? No matter how bad things were, the fact was they were supposed to be in bunkers, and more heavily guarded by military forces than anyone else. And not by just any military—Bish and I would never have been considered to go there.

Maybe we should just keep driving. Can’t lay this shit on Defiance’s doorstep , can we?

“Not sure we have another choice that’s as good.”

We had choices. You always did. It was just a matter of picking the best one in the moment.

In that moment, I chose the road that led to Defiance.

I’ll take you down the only road I’ve ever been down

Jessa

I looked around the black van with the tinted windows and the heavy-duty-looking doors and knew it was bulletproof. I’d ridden in enough caravans to know. But those caravans had never driven this fast, gliding in the dark with a sleekness I hadn’t known was possible in such a large vehicle.

Of course, I had no idea where we were going, but since these two had killed all the men back there, they were in more trouble than I was.

Maybe.

I glanced over into the back, but I couldn’t see Charlie. Any guilt I might’ve had was quickly overcome when I thought of how he’d been so willing to throw me away. Six months of marriage reduced to a price.

He was going to sell you.

I couldn’t repeat it to myself enough, because I still had trouble believing it was true, and I was there to see it happen. But it had , unless I woke up tomorrow in my bed in the bunker, where the women tried to pretend that this was the real world, that everything was normal, that politics were still important. That the U.S.A. still had laws that people adhered to.

I knew too much and I’d keep my mouth shut and keep playing the victim, because I was one. And maybe, maybe, they’d turn us back over to Washington and play heroes.

I really didn’t want that to happen but I didn’t know what exactly to hope for—to ask for—at this point. So instead, I hugged my knees to my chest and I stared out the front window and I asked the simplest question I could. “Who are you?”

“I’m Bishop. He’s Mathias.”

Mathias, the dark-haired angel. I rolled his name around in my mind and kept my gaze forward. Thankfully, neither man turned back to look at me, but Mathias did make limited eye contact through the rearview mirror. I didn’t know if that was because he didn’t trust me not to turn around and free Charlie, but he didn’t have to worry. There was no way I’d help Charlie.