Page 14 of Twisted Road

After taking her outside to find a spot where she could relieve herself, he spent time on the head wound, cleaning it with hot water and applying antibiotics. He didn’t want to wash her hair, although it needed it. He put it in two braids to try to keep it off the wound in her head. Using butterfly stitches, he closed the gap as best he could. He wasn’t going to try to glue it. He didn’t have anything sterile enough.

Her face was a mess, but he didn’t comment on that. He didn’t have ice, but he had her hold a cold, wet rag against her eyes and cheek while he took a look at her arm. That was going to heal nicely. He knew it was sore, but unless the injury got infected, it was going to be fine. The leg worried him a little. The wound was deeper than he liked and still weeping.

“Don’t like this,” he informed her.

“I walked on it, remember? It didn’t like it, and it’s just making that known,” she said.

“Painful?” It was red and swollen around the edges.

“Nothing I can’t handle, Keys,” she assured him, but her gaze avoided his.

“I don’t like it when you lie to me, Wildfire.” Very carefully he slipped on the one flannel shirt that was dry enough to keep her warm, mindful of the wound on her arm.

“It wasn’t a lie. I didn’t say it wasn’t painful, only that I can handle it. Would you prefer me getting hysterical like I did in the coffin?”

“Babe. Really? That was different, and you had every reason to have a panic attack.”

“You didn’t. Not only were you completely calm, but you already had figured out a plan to get us out of the mess we were in. I wasn’t exactly a big help with my panic attack.”

“Seriously, Lyric? You snapped out of it fast. No one wants to wake up in a coffin with their arms pinned under them and a heavy body lying on top of them.”

He had the clothes, shoes and a new stack of firewood drying out. He handed her the water flask. “Drink. You need to stay hydrated.”

“Who’s Czar? You mentioned him several times so casually, I could tell he’s a big part of your life.”

He lifted her foot, drawing it onto his lap so he could massage her aching feet. He knew they hurt because she winced when she had first put them on the floor of their meager space.

“I have a question I’d like to ask you before I answer. That all right?”

“Of course. And you don’t have to share anything with me you don’t want to.”

He knew she’d never push him for any information. That would be important once he took her home with him to Caspar. He didn’t share that. “I told you my given name one night at the diner. Everyone thought my surname was Keys, including you. I wanted you to know the real me, and I gave you that and told you Keys meant something to me. You’ve always called me by that name, and as far as I know, you’ve never shared with anyone that my name is Lazar Alexeev. You never ever, even when we were alone, called me by my given name. Why?”

“When you told me who you were, there was reluctance in your voice. You didn’t like the name. You also didn’t want it known to the general public. I figured there must be a reason for that, so it was no one’s business.”

That was Lyric. She would take his secrets to the grave, and he would never have to ask her. Even if she was pissed at him, he knew she would never give him up. She wasn’t a gossip girl despite owning a hair salon where every customer gossiped. He knew because he frequented it.

“I belong to a motorcycle club called Torpedo Ink. Czar is the president of the club. The charter members grew up together under very dangerous circumstances. Czar saved us with his planning and his ability to keep to a code of honor. Only eighteen of us survived that hellhole, but out of it, we got a brotherhood so strong it can’t be broken. Two members are female. I think I mentioned them to you.”

“The school where you learned your assassin skills.”

He nodded and tucked her foot back into the sleeping bag before picking up the other one. “I’ve been giving you bits and pieces, mainly because I wanted you to know I could get us out of trouble. The Headed for Hell club stinks to high heaven. My club doesn’t like trafficking women and children. We especially don’t like pedophiles. Don’t look at me like I’m a good guy, baby, because I’m not. We’re a club of killers, and if we’re crossed, your time on this earth is limited.” He was brutally honest because he was taking her home with him and she needed the facts.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I know you’d never go to the cops. I think you’d endure torture and never give us up. I don’t know how, but I know that about you.”

She gave him a faint smile. “I’m the loyal type. You’re the only person I choose to be loyal to.”

“You ever going to tell me your story?”

She looked away from him. “I’m pretty certain you know I’m hiding out. On the run. I’ve been on the run for a while now. I stay in very small towns where there isn’t a lot of traffic, and I fly under the radar. When I think it isn’t safe, I pack up and leave. I can pack fast and carry most things in my backpack. If necessary, I could live off the land for a long time. Fortunately, I like my own company and don’t like clutter. Like you, I live free, and no one gets to put rules on me because I don’t exist.”

That was the most she’d ever shared about her background. She was giving him the same kind of trust he was giving to her.

“I’ll want to know more at some point down the road. For now, I’m good with what you gave me. But I told you about Czar and the club for a reason. I didn’t want you to be caught unawares when you meet everyone.”

He got her eyes. “Meet everyone?”