Page 12 of Vengeance

"You have no idea what I'll do,” Bowie said.

Vengeance met his gaze without hesitation. "If I fail Chloe, you won’t have to find me. I’ll be dead.” Bowie stared at him for several long seconds before reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a worn brass key attached to a faded leather tag. Without another word, he tossed it at Vengeance.

"The address is written on the back." He looked down and saw that the house was in Hidden Valley, outside of Marlinton, West Virginia. He knew the place. It was so isolated that most people had probably never heard of it.

"Leave tonight," Bowie ordered. "No phones, no credit cards, no social media, and no contact unless absolutely necessary."

Vengeance nodded. "I'll get her there."

Bowie took one threatening step forward until only inches separated them. "If my daughter comes home with so much as a scratch—” His voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "I'll finish what Savage started with the Dragons." Vengeance didn't flinch because there was something Bowie didn't know. If Dante found Chloe first, there wouldn't be enough left of the Dragons or the Black Veil Syndicate for Bowie to avenge. Because Vengeance would burn his father's entire empire to the ground before he let Dante put his hands on Chloe again.

The ride out of Huntsville felt like the longest of Vengeance's life. He checked his mirrors every few seconds, and neither of them spoke a word. Bowie had insisted on sending four Royal Bastards with them until they reached the interstate. After that, they would split off in different directions to muddy the trail. It was smart. Unfortunately, he knew that it probably wouldn't be enough.

The sun had disappeared hours before they crossed into Tennessee. Chloe hadn't spoken since they'd left Savage Hell. She sat behind him on the Harley, her gloved hands gripping the grab bar instead of his waist. She didn't trust him. Hell, he couldn't blame her.

Every time they stopped for gas, she climbed off the bike without looking at him—without saying a word. She kept her distance while he paid cash and filled the tank because using a credit card would make them traceable. He was doing things exactly the way Bowie wanted it. But then again, that was easy because it was the way that Vengeance had lived most of his adult life.

By midnight, they'd crossed into Kentucky. He pulled off onto an old logging road, shutting off the motorcycle beneath a canopy of trees. The sudden silence felt unnerving. Chloe climbed off. "Why are we stopping?"

"Because we've been followed since Tennessee,” Vengeance said.

Her eyes widened as she quickly looked around. "What?"

He walked around the motorcycle, pulling a flashlight from one of the saddlebags. "Relax."

"Relax?" she hissed. "You just said we're being followed."

"Were,” he breathed. “I said that they were following us.”

"So, they aren’t anymore?” she asked.

"No, they are, but they're about three minutes ahead of us now,” he said.

She stared at him. "How can you possibly know that?"

He crouched beside the gravel road and looked up at her. "They're amateurs." He noticed the tire tracks and knew that they had come this way.

"What do you mean by amateurs?" she asked.

"They don't know how to hide very well,” he said.

He pointed toward the road. "See that?"

She leaned closer. "I don't see anything."

"The gravel,” he said.

"It's gravel,” she grumbled, staring at the road.

"It shouldn't be piled up like that." She frowned, and he sighed. "Somebody came through here too fast."

"Oh,” she breathed.

"They're rushing to get ahead of us. It’s why I noticed them in the first place,” he said.

"You can tell all that from some piled-up gravel?” she asked.

He nodded. "They're anxious, or stupid—probably both."