He cursed again. He had to have Absinthe file papers immediately, but after this fiasco, persuading her to use him as her lawyer, and to trust Torpedo Ink—and Ice—was not going to be easy. He couldn’t take the time to stop until they were miles from the scene, and even then, he would prefer to keep going so they couldn’t be seen at all. He would wait until they were at the clubhouse before he texted Czar and Steele to come as well so they could put a plan in place if and when the cops came sniffing around.
They kept to the back roads, moving slowly. Once, a car came along, but he heard it before it got to them, so he pulled into deeper shadows and angled the bike away from the road so the license plate couldn’t be seen easily. The moment the car was a good distance away, they were back on the road, traveling toward Caspar.
The sun had climbed into the sky by the time he made it into Caspar and their clubhouse. Soleil was off the bike without help, backing away from him, wrapping her arms around her body and looking around her as if she might make a run for it. Ice gave her a few moments to make up her mind, pretending to tinker with his bike before sliding off. He looked at her. She’d been crying. He didn’t blame her. The scene must have been shocking to her.
“Soleil.” He used his gentlest voice and held out his hand to her. “Let’s go inside. We’ll get some coffee and warm up.”
She held up her hand. “I need to think. I have to get past panic and think.”
“You can do that inside where it’s warm.” He stepped closer to her, using a very subtle glide he’d perfected when he was a boy, learning to kill. He could inch within striking distance and his prey never realized he had done so until it was too late.
Soleil looked so pale her skin was nearly translucent. Her eyes were wide with shock, giving the illusion that they were too big for her face.
She looked at the clubhouse and then around the grounds. One hand crept protectively to her throat. He wanted her to come to him for protection.
“Baby, I know you’re scared. That was a very violent and scary, fucked-up mess. It happened so fast. We were on the main highway where anyone could have come by at any moment.” He couldn’t help glancing up to the highway, not that Savage or Absinthe would come that way. Like Ice, they would use the old logging roads to make their way home.
“Just come inside with me and we’ll talk it out.” He inched closer, seeming not to move. He didn’t want her running. He wanted—even needed—her trust. He didn’t deserve it. They’d spent a month together, and most of the time he’d related to her through sex. He was afraid to talk too much to her about himself, to give too much of his life away. He should have, though. He should have done more than just have sex with her at every turn; he should have given her something solid to hold on to.
“I’m not going anywhere, Ice.” She took a deep breath and ran her hands down her thighs, rubbing up and down as if to warm herself. “I just need to walk around for a few minutes and sort things out in my mind before I’m inside, where I might have more trouble breathing.”
She meant before she felt trapped and unable to run if she needed to, Ice was certain. She was still trembling so hard he was afraid she might fall. In the distance, coming from the north, he heard the sound of pipes. Even fainter, coming from the south, on Highway 1, he heard more. Soleil heard them too, and panic set on her face.
Reaper was the first to arrive, coming in from a back road north of the property. Anya was on the back of the bike. As soon as the bike was parked, Anya jumped off and went straight to Soleil as if she didn’t notice that Soleil was close to running.
“Honey. How terrible. Ice texted us about the men who were after you. I know what that feels like.” She threw her arms around Soleil and hugged her close. “You’re shaking.” She glared at Ice. “She needs to be inside, where it’s warm.”
Soleil immediately shook her head. She wasn’t the type of woman to let someone else—especially Ice—take the blame. “Ice wanted me inside, I just couldn’t breathe.”
Anya ran her hands up and down Soleil’s arms as if to warm her. “I overheard things I shouldn’t have at my work, and the next thing I know, my roommate is dead and I’m on the run. That’s how I ended up here, in Caspar. They were looking for a bartender.” She took a couple of steps toward the clubhouse, her hand still on Soleil’s arm.