Page 25 of Twisted Road

He could see how it might sound that way. She was intelligent, and she liked to plan in advance. Just because she had a vicious headache, it wouldn’t have stopped her from looking at their situation from every angle. That was one of the things he loved most about her. It was also one of the things that drove him nuts.

He liked that she had a brain and she used it. He didn’t like that she was so willing to put her life on the line with his.

“I know you like the idea that I’m going to be sitting around our little happy home with a gun in my hand, waiting for my hero to return.” She made a face at him. “That sounds so like me.” Before he could reply, she indicated the tree. “This would make a good trap. It’s right on the game trail. That slender tree is perfect to use. I think this is one of the ways they might access our cave.”

“Nice that you finally have admitted you think of me as your hero,” he said as he studied the game trail. She was right. He would follow that trail through the woods if he was searching for someone. It was clearly used often by larger animals and would be easy for anyone attempting to get off the mountain to traverse.

She gave him that little laugh of hers, the one that always got him right in the gut. “I think I just keep feeding your enormous ego.” She swayed, reached out a hand to him and gave him a little moue of regret. “Sorry, partner. You’re going to be on your own for this one. I need to lie down again.”

Alarm crashed through him. He needed his club to get there fast, and it had nothing to do with those coming after them and everything to do with the woman he swept into his arms and cradled against his chest.

“You like me carrying you, admit it.”

She turned her face into his throat without hesitation. “You guessed my secret. The light’s hurting my eyes.”

He hurried back to the cave, uncaring that he might be leaving tracks. He’d erase them after he got her comfortable. “You going to be able to stay awake if I leave?” That was imperative. He realized he would have to hunt the men who would be coming after them. “I can’t take the chance that my club won’t find us. We’re sitting ducks here.”

“I want you to go, Keys,” she whispered. “You have a much better chance out there than hiding out with me.”

There it was again, Lyric putting him first. She was quite capable of manipulating the situation if she believed they weren’t going to make it. She would do her best to separate them. Just like what was happening. But they had a much better chance if he was hunting the enemy.

He settled her on the sleeping bag, placed water, gun, and ammunition beside her. “I won’t be gone long. Please don’t fall asleep, Lyric.”

“I won’t. I’ll pretend I have coffee. Just the thought will keep me awake.”

“This isn’t a game.” He needed reassurance.

“As long as you’re in danger, Keys, I’m not about to fall asleep. Just get it done as fast as you can.”

He tipped her face up and went through his routine, dusting featherlight kisses on each swollen eye, the tip of her nose, and the corners of her mouth before he tasted her lips. He didn’t want it to hurt, so there was no pressure, but it was his claim on her. He didn’t know if she felt it, but he did.

“You stay alive, Wildfire.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it if for no other reason than to prove you wrong. I’ll never fit in with your family, but I told you when this was over, I’d go with you, and I will. Occasionally, it’s good for you to know you get things wrong. In any case, Caspar is close to the Lost Coast. A great place to backpack.”

He heard the resolve in her voice despite the teasing. She’d stick. He knew her better than anyone else ever would. And that was just fine with him. Lyric Johansen was a woman of her word. She would be alive and waiting for him.

“Got everything you need? You know you’ll have to do without the fire. They’ll smell it and come straight here.” He took his time putting it out, making sure very little smoke escaped when he did.

She looked around. “Best place I’ve lived in a while.”

“You never took me to your apartment. All the nights we had dinner, you always went back to the salon. Now that I think about it, I just assumed you had a little place over the salon.”

“I had a bed in the back room of the salon. I travel light. I keep a bag ready. I’m not a collector. It takes minutes to disappear. My equipment is packed up and put in storage by a friend until it’s safe to get it out.”

He knew the concept. He was always prepared to make a run for it. Every member of the club was ready. Those with wives and children were ready as well. Czar believed in always being prepared for any possibility. That rule had saved their lives many times over the years. Their backup plans had backup plans.

Keys left her reluctantly, but he didn’t look back. He needed to get things done quickly. That meant setting as many traps as possible around the small cave. If he wasn’t successful in his hunt, he wanted to ensure Lyric lived. He hiked several of the trails and left a few tracks here and there to buy time. That was what it was going to be all about. Buying enough time for his club to show up.

Once he was certain Lyric was as safe as he could make her, he hiked back to where the truck was a burned-out wreck. That would be the starting point, the place where those coming after them would first establish a presence. They would want to see for themselves what happened to their men. Keys knew Merrit and even Chester and Hank had spoken with someone from that location.

The Headed for Hell club used these mountains and the system of caves for their gun and drug running, and Code was certain they were involved in human trafficking. The club had been entrenched in the territory for years. That meant they knew the mountains and were familiar with all the back roads and trails. It would be far better to locate them, see how many, and then follow the pairs sent out to hunt for signs on the various trails. That would save him valuable time.

Keys had a built-in map in his mind. He always had. He wasn’t a man to get lost. Once he’d made a journey or he’d looked at a location, he could find his way back easily. Even in the forest, he had no trouble making his way back to the site where the Headed for Hell club members had taken them to torture and make their video to prove they had done their job.

Keys and Destroyer had established they were out of work for the moment, taking time to ride free between construction jobs. Both had impeccable paperwork: Keys was supposedly his last name, and Destroyer had been designated Riker. They portrayed themselves as hardened, used to the road, lethal if crossed and not intimidated by any of the club members. They would have made perfect recruits, but the club had passed on them.

Back home in Caspar, at their bar, a couple of Headed for Hell brothers had come in to party when they’d been in the neighborhood. Keys was playing in the band. Fortunately, Seychelle, Savage’s old lady, had come in to audition and the idiot thought he might put his hands on her. Savage had shut it down with one look, and the two had left. Keys had dodged that bullet. Neither remembered him, and he’d been careful to stay away from them.