Page 22 of Preacher

“I heard you, and I promise. I’ll stay in the car until Smoke gets there.”

He cupped the back of my neck and kissed me once, hard and quick. “Call me the second you see him.”

“I will.”

We left separately, him on his bike and me in my car. For the first five minutes I could see Preacher’s taillight ahead of me, then he turned toward town while I took the freight road. I called Luis to tell him I was on my way and got no answer.

The yard lights were on when I reached the yard, and Luis’s truck sat crooked beside the warehouse. I slowed as I approached because Preacher had told me not to get out, and for once I intended to listen.

Then I saw Luis on the ground beside the warehouse door.

“Shit.”

I grabbed my phone and called 911 as I pulled closer. The dispatcher answered just as I stopped the car, and I gave the address, left the line open and reached under the passenger seat for the tire iron I’d shoved there that afternoon.

Then I got out, keeping the tire iron tight in my hand. “Luis?”

He moved, and relief hit me hard enough that I nearly missed the shadow shifting near the warehouse. I spun as a man stepped out from behind the truck. Another came from the office side. Neither was Vega; both were strangers. I backed toward my car with the tire iron raised.

“Stay where you are.”

The taller man smiled without meaning it. “Ms. Curtis, we need you to sign something.”

I swung the tire iron when he came close. He caught the blow on his forearm with a curse, and I drove my knee upward hard enough to make him stagger. For one second I had space, and I turned for the car.

The second man caught me around the waist before I reached it. I drove my elbow backward, connected with something solid and heard him grunt, but his grip only tightened. The tire iron hit the dirt.

“Get off me!”

The first man recovered and grabbed my wrist. “You’ve made this much harder than it needed to be Miss Curtis.”

I twisted, kicked and managed to catch him in the shin. He swore, which was something. If they wanted me compliant, they were going to have to work for it. My phone still lay on the driver’s seat with the emergency call open. I saw the screen light up, and then the taller man saw it too. He reached inside, ended the call and threw the phone across the yard.

“You’re coming inside.”

“No.”

His hand tightened around my wrist. I looked toward the road and found nothing but an empty stretch of dirt disappearing into the dark. The man behind me started dragging me toward the warehouse, but I planted my feet and fought him every inch.

Preacher was going to come. I knew that as surely as I knew I wasn’t going to make this easy for the men holding me. Until he did, I was on my own.

CHAPTER 6

PREACHER

Iknew something was wrong before Smoke answered his phone.

Holly should have called me the second she reached Curtis Freight, but she hadn’t, and Smoke wasn’t picking up either. The knot in my gut went from irritation to something colder by the time I turned off Main Street and saw Gage’s bike coming hard from the opposite direction.

He pulled alongside me at the stop sign and shouted over the engines, “Smoke’s down by the old fuel lot. Somebody clipped his bike on the way to Holly.”

That was all I needed to understand how badly the plan had gone wrong. I swung around so hard the rear tire kicked dust. Nobody had to explain it. Vega had been bait, Smoke getting knocked off his bike part of the plan, and somebody had learned enough to split our attention and leave Holly alone. The thought of somebody putting hands on her again left room for nothing except getting to her. I pushed the bike harder.

The warehouse lights were visible long before we reached the gate. One sedan sat crooked beside Holly’s car, and a black SUV waited behind the warehouse with its engine running.

Gage saw the running SUV at the same moment I did. “Back exit.”

“Take it.”