“Emily?”
My body instinctively plastered against the ladder. The voice came from below me … It was vaguely familiar, but I was so scared I didn’t trust anything my mind was thinking right now.
“Emily? Hell.”
Deck?
The rush of emotion hit me so hard I slipped down two rungs, and the sound echoed like a drum through the tunnel.
“Emily?” Deck called.
“Y-yes. Yes, it’s me.”
“Climb down, beautiful.”
I was sobbing hysterically by the time I felt hands on my hips, and then I was being lifted and placed on my feet. I turned in Deck’s arms and collapsed into them, my cheek pressed against his chest, and my arms holding him tight around the waist. I barely knew the guy, but he was the best sight I’d seen in fifteen days.
The relief was overwhelming, like I’d been pulled from being buried alive without hope, without breath … alone with no one to trust—until now.
Deck stroked the back of my hair. “We have to move hard, Emily. You good to run?”
I nodded, sniffling.
“Matt’s here. We’re taking you home.”
“Oh God,” I cried. Matt. He’d come. Him and Deck. They hadn’t forgotten me.
I heard several more gun shots and jumped. I thought about Logan; I couldn’t help it. He had something to do with me getting out of here. Even though I’d never forgive him for what he’d done. He’d destroyed any innocence and tarnished it with mistrust and fear. He’d put me in a world that would live in my nightmares forever.
I didn’t know why Dave didn’t come with me. Logan had sounded like Dave was supposed to, but he’d opted to go back. For Logan? Did Logan need help? No, Logan was Raul’s son.
Deck squeezed my hand. “You’re safe now, Emily.”
Safe? I’d never be safe again. I knew I’d never be the same girl who walked into an illegal fighting ring and asked Sculpt to teach her how to fight. I didn’t know who I’d become or how I’d do it or where I’d even go from here.
What I did know was that I’d never forget.
2 years later
Gravel crunched beneath tires as the distinct roar of a motorcycle come barreling up the driveway toward me.
It was rare anyone came to the farm except Deck who drove his sweet black Audi with the tinted windows. It crept up the driveway so silently that I rarely noticed it. Actually, the car reminded me of Deck, mysterious, dangerous with a quiet calmness that awakened every nerve in the body. Deck had taken it upon himself to check up on me every so often ever since he and Matt had brought me back from Mexico. Georgie said it was his way, and I was “in the fold” now. Well, the fold could be a pain in the butt, and Georgie completely agreed as she’d been on Deck’s radar since he was honorably discharged from the JTF2. He’d started his own company called Unyielding Riot. I recently found out that Riot was Georgie’s brother’s call name in the JTF2.
Deck had been a huge help when I came back. He assisted with the police and FBI investigation and was with me when I had to tell them the story. Although, certain details were left out—like Sculpt’s identity. I never mentioned him; Deck’s doing and I guess mine too. Sculpt had gotten me out of there.
Deck being an ex JTF2 often worked with law enforcement on cases and therefore had some ‘friends’ which helped when I wanted nothing more than to stop talking about it. He kept the pressure off of me and dealt with most of the questions and answers. At the time, I couldn’t even recall most of what was said I was so numb to everything.
Stroking Havoc’s sleek, white neck, I felt the veins popping out under her skin. A quiver raced through her body, and she trembled. Clucking, I moved Havoc into a walk. Horses were prey animals, and when scared—they ran.
The bike’s roar closed in on us.
Havoc’s ears pricked forward and her muscles coiled like a spring.
I sunk deeper into the saddle, yet made certain I stayed relaxed. Clamping down tight on a fearful horse was like a mountain lion leaping on their back.
“Good girl, Havoc.” I urged her around so that we were facing the offending noise that still wasn’t slowing. The bike paused at the fork in the driveway, one way went to the main house, the other to the barn. It revved then came straight for the barn.
“Damn it.”
Havoc sucked in air to make a loud snorting sound.
I took my feet out of the stirrups to hop off, and at the same time the offending bike backfired.
Havoc exploded.
“Shit.” I looped my fingers in her mane as Havoc went up on her hind legs, pawing the air. My lower back hit hard against the back of the leather saddle as she came down on all fours. She took off in a mad gallop around the ring, her hind legs kicking out to the side and throwing my body off balance.
Havoc came to an abrupt halt, her nostrils flaring and sides heaving.
Then it happened.
The bike skidded to a stop in front of the barn, dust and gravel pebbles flew into the air hitting the aluminum barn wall and making a loud crackling sound like fireworks going off. Havoc’s ears went straight back, her spine arched, and both hind legs went straight up into the air as she squealed.
I careened over her head and landed smack on my ass. “Ughhh.”
I fell backward and lay in the dirt while I listened to Havoc bolt around the riding ring kicking up dust.
Undoing my chin strap, I flicked off my helmet and stared up at the ominous clouds. “What the hell.”
The gate clanged.
Footsteps.
I lay still contemplating what sort of pain I was going to cause the culprit. I’d spent months gaining Havoc’s trust and this would set me back weeks, if not months. The six other traumatized and abused rescue horses that had come with Havoc from the slaughter house had already been rehomed. I’d helped them gain their pride and confidence back, but Havoc was taking much longer. She was an alpha mare and pushing her would only make her rebel—the last reaction I wanted.