Burned (Devil's Blaze MC, #2)(35)

I negotiate Katie’s jeep to the median and jump out to see what kind of f*cking mess she’s gotten into now, because I have no doubt that she’s in the middle of whatever it is.

“What’s going on here?” I ask.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to return to your vehicle. We’re trying to prevent traffic from being backed up.”

“Oh, I hear ya. It’s just that at the Waffle King in Brownville, that very f*cking truck was there, and I saw its driver force a woman into the truck with him. I tried to tell the police there. They wanted me to come in and make a report. I did, but I don’t know if they did anything about it.”

“Shit. You’re kidding me!” The officer goes off running to one of the other men there. I walk closer, expecting to get a glimpse of Katie, but I don’t see her anywhere.

“There wasn’t a woman in the truck?” I call out, and I try not to let my inner fear free. Shit, if she got herself hurt by pulling her damn stunt…

“There wasn’t anyone here,” the officer answers. “Witnesses say they saw a brunette limp out of the truck and start walking towards Casey. They reported her limping heavily and looking like she’d been in a fight.”

“David! We don’t release details of the case,” another cop says, which is kind of stupid, though probably a hundred percent true—and smart. Dumbass. For all he knows, I could be the owner of the truck.

I need to find Katie. Shit. I hope she’s okay. I start to turn away when I hear one of the cops yell.

“Hey! Sarge! Dispatch just got a call from the Angel Drop Motel, said some woman stole his rig.”

“Have one of the men go to the motel and get this guy. Tell them to treat him like a suspect. We have a witness who said this guy might have kidnapped a woman over in Brownville.”

And cue my time to leave. As much as I want to make sure that trucker gets his ass sewn up, if I have to stay around and be the motherf*cker to help do it, Katie will get away. I back away until I’m out of sight, then jump in my jeep and drive off. I take the back road and hold my breath until I find a little mom-and-pop gas station and fill up. There’s been no sign of Katie. I might have picked the wrong route. I thought driving on this back road would be the way to go, but—

I stop when I see her. She’s limping hard, walking along the side of the road. My heart squeezes in my chest.

Motherf*cking raindrops in Hell! Until this moment, I refused to acknowledge the fear I felt when I saw the eighteen-wheeler abandoned and Katie nowhere to be found. I didn’t fully believe that she had stolen the damn thing. Jesus.

I pull up beside her. The window is already down. It’s an older model jeep, so the windows zip. How she could like such a thing is beyond me. “Get in,” I order, and my voice might rival Skull’s in being cold right now.





Did I break a freaking mirror? I don’t think I’ve ever had such a continuous run of bad luck, and considering I spent most of my life being a prisoner of my father and grandfather, that’s saying something! When I think someone is finally offering me a ride, only to find Torch sitting in my jeep, I want to scream.

I look around, trying to figure out how I can get away.

“You even think about it, Katie, and so help me God, I will make sure you regret it. I have a headache from f*cking hell after getting my skull bashed in by that magazine rack, and I’m not gonna put up with anymore of your shit.”

I want to at least make a run for it, but with the agony in my leg, I know it wouldn’t do any good. “I hate you,” I grumble, then get up in the jeep. My leg protests even that small feat, and I grimace from the pain.

“The feeling is starting to be mutual,” he growls, then makes a hard U-turn, squealing my tires.

I grab ahold of the dashboard, trying to brace myself. “Will you slow down? This isn’t the Daytona Speedway!”

“Shut up, Katie.”

I don’t respond. Something about the tone of his voice tells me it wouldn’t be wise to prod him. I’ve survived knowing how far I can go. I haven’t always listened to the warning in my head, but I’m still here. I guess I should trust my instincts. Instead of going off on him like I want, I sit quietly and rub my leg. It’s cramping and I’ve been without any type of medication for a couple days. The pain is intense.

“Are you even listening to me?” asks Torch, jarring me out of my thoughts.

“I thought you told me to shut up,” I respond.

“I asked what’s wrong with your leg?”

“It hurts.”

“Jesus, does everything have to be like pulling teeth with you?”

“I’m sorry I’m not more accommodating to the man who is intent on taking away the freedom it took my whole life to gain.”

That makes him go silent. Good. He can chew on that for a little while.

“Sweetness, I know you don’t believe me, but we aren’t going to hurt you.”

“You might not be planning on it, but you will.”

“Skull deserves to see his child, Katie. Beth and he need to talk.”

“He doesn’t deserve shit. He lost that chance when he turned his back on her when she almost died. She needed him there. He decided to send her money and a nice goodbye note with a picture of him and his new woman.”