The Biker's Touch - Book 2 (An Alpha Motorcycle Club Romance) (Ghosts of the Prairie Motorcycle Club) (6 page)

The image of a biker conjured an image more like the Riggers for her. It had a negative connotation, but knowing Trenton, and even Danny, the notion was completely turned around.

Trenton was so caring and so fucking hot. It wasn’t because he was off-the-hook in bed but because he was so thoughtful and tender. He was just a beautiful man.

When they dismounted, he immediately ushered her inside a tent that was cooled by a generator. He insisted on dousing her head with cool water so her hair was wet, in case she had gotten too much sun. They sat inside the tent sipping water till they felt right.

The mercy of the prairie was that the temperatures would dive, and by sundown it would be cool enough outside for a fire, which they already had going far enough away from camp so that the heat would not annoy anyone while it was still warm out.

Over the fire, they had spit roasting chicken. Jennifer knew it was going to be so incredible. She was starving for it. In the meantime, they had bowls of soup made of beans, summer squash and corn. It hit the spot. She curled up in the tent under a blanket and took a long nap.

Immediately, she went into a dream. It was a dream where she was there at the camp with the Ghosts of the Prairie, but somehow her husband had found her and snuck inside her tent.

His hand on her shoulder to wake her, Jennifer turns and stares at his angry face.

“What are you doing here?” she demands.

“I might ask you the same thing,” he says in a wicked tone. “What did they do? Pass you around and now you’re sleeping it off?”

Jennifer takes a swing at him but he catches her hand. He looks her right in the eye before slapping her hard across the face. It stings on so many levels. She is tired of taking that from him. For so many years, she hid the bruises from the occasional, but hurtful, physical outbursts.

What hurts more than the hitting is the belittlement in his voice. He is so, so smarmy, and one more time he has power over her. She tries to cry out for Trenton or anyone but he laughs.

He says, “This is a dream. And in this dream, they cannot hear you. Come.” He forces her to sit up. “Look.”

Jennifer can see outside of the tent, Trenton’s motorcycle club carrying on happily as though neither of them is there. It’s so frustrating because everything she needs is right outside the tent but she cannot connect to any of it.

Her husband smiles. “So you see, it’s just you and me. And for starters, I would like for you to sign all of these.”

He hands her a clipboard with a stack of paper, inches thick. He fists her hair so it is taut around her head. She can hardly move. If she refuses for one moment to comply, he just has to move his hand and cause her great pain.

Tears are streaming down her face as she signs the papers against her will.

“When Trenton hears about this he is going to turn this all around,” she says.

He makes fun of her and starts talking like he is about to cry too. “Oh, but Trenton isn’t real now is he? And he seems to be getting along just fine without you. And when I have my company back, there isn’t a damn thing that he can do about it.”

Jennifer tells herself that as soon as she finishes with the paperwork, he will go. She would rather live completely impoverished as she did when she was a child than to live one more day as his wife.

“Oh,” he says, “by the way, I have the kids. It will be a cold day before you see them again. I’ve already told them that you went off to jail. For life, and that they will never see you again. Mommy bye bye.”

She shoves her foot up into his bread basket. He releases an umph sound. She is surprised that she actually has some success. She can literally feel him shake her shoulder.

“Hey,” Trenton said, looking right in her eyes. “What was that?”

“What?” she asked. “I was dreaming,” she said, trembling.

“I’ll say,” he said. “I just took one in the gut from you.”

“That was you?” She sat up and almost knocked heads with him.

Jennifer wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life.

“Hey,” he asked softly. “What’s the matter?”

“I dreamt he was here,” she said, wiping her eyes.

“Who, honey?” He searched her face.

“Brill. And he said that he had the kids and I would never see them again.” She trembled.

He took her head in his warm, soft hands. “It was just a dream. Anxiety. And frankly, as much as you need to have fun, I am surprised you aren’t showing more signs of it. He’s not going take your children. He’s not going to harm you. You pull all of the strings right now. You are chief cook and bottle washer at Wayland Energy.”

She smiled feebly at him. “You’re right.”

“Um, besides, he is in jail for at least thirty days for assault and resisting arrest, and more stuff. I happen to know the district attorney in New City. He is up shit’s creek without a paddle,” assured Trenton.

“I think I will call the kids just to feel better,” she said.

“Of course baby. Want some privacy?” he asked so sweetly.

Jennifer looked at him with adoration. “Where did you come from?” she asked and kissed him gingerly.

He left the tent so that she could make her call in private. She phoned her mother and talked to each of the children. They were indeed fine. She let them know that she would probably come out and join them in a day or two, once she had some ‘me’ time and wrapped up business matters.

She felt guilty admitting she was having ‘me’ time, but what ‘me’ time it was. For the first time since she could remember, Jennifer was socializing with adults. She felt like a human being again, although a slightly guilty one.

She emerged from the tent. Trenton winked at her. He beamed at her from across the circle of friends.

“Feel better?” he asked her. Even from where she stood, she could feel the exchange of heat between them.

He arranged his legs to invite her to come sit on his lap. She nestled against him. A couple of the bikers were strumming guitars and singing. And they were really good. A table was set up filled with sides and there was a place for the chicken in the middle.

“Hope you’re hungry,” said Danny. He made her feel so welcome.

“I am,” Jennifer replied.

“You get good rest?” he asked.

“Yes, thanks,” said Jennifer.

The evening drew on pleasantly. The Ghosts of the Prairie played music and hung out and told stories until it was time to turn in. Jennifer and Trenton snuggled up under the same bedroll as the fire crackled outside. Couples had their own tents so they were alone.

He made quiet love to her, kissing her to capture her cries. As their pleasure lingered, they remained entwined. Eventually they separated. He turned her back against his chest, wrapped his mammoth arms around her and they slept.

Chapter Seven

Jennifer woke in the middle of the night with the tormenting feeling that something was really wrong. It woke her out of a dead sleep and it made her need to get out of the tent.

The fire was still burning. A few Ghosts of the Prairie were still hanging out. They were quiet as she moved past them and out into the open field. There was a big black mass that her brain did not quite compute. She realized at last she was standing near enough to a bison.

“Jennifer,” Trenton called to her in a low but stern voice.

She couldn’t answer or move. She was sure that if she moved at all, the animal would charge her. She was pretty sure that was what was on Trenton’s mind as well.

“Jennifer, step backwards,” he said. She had never heard his voice so cold and stern before.

“I can’t,” she said as evenly as she could. She was too afraid that she was going to dissolve into a quivering mass.

“Danny White Feather,” Trenton called. He was trying to yell and not yell at the same time.

A moment later, Danny emerged from his tent. He laughed low.

“Okay,” he said ultra-coolly. “Hold on.”

Danny triangulated, moving in the opposite direction. He said something to the bison in a language Jennifer did not understand, and put something down on the prairie floor and casually stepped away. The bison moved towards where Danny baited him to move and away from Jennifer.

“Come on,” Danny called to Trenton and Jennifer.

Trenton lunged for Jennifer and hoisted her at her middle. He scurried with her back towards the camp.

“Did you have another bad dream?” he asked. His body was warm.

“Close enough. I woke with a sinking feeling. I can’t shake it and now I don’t get phone service,” she said.

“Okay,” said Trenton. “Would you like to ride back home? I will take you right now if you won’t be happy otherwise.”

“No, I think I want to wait until I have phone service. I just want to know my children are safe,” she said. “I don’t want to go off half-cocked.”

Trenton tried his phone, as did Danny and a few others. Trenton stood sort of close to the bison and got a signal. But then the bison ran off, far into the field joining a small herd.

“Wait,” he said. “Got it. Come here and call home.”

Jennifer dialed her parents a couple of times until they answered. Each time they didn’t answer, her panic was greater. She knew it was the middle of the night, but still, she was impatient. Finally, there was a response. Her mother clumsily fumbling on the cell phone. She had awakened her parents from a dead sleep.

Jennifer just had to know. She let her mother awaken some and asked her to please go check her children’s beds. Her mother came back to the phone in a panic. Jennifer let out a howl that shook the prairie.

Screaming for dear life around a band of valiant motorcycle club members resulted in ten or so up on their feet in an instant.

“What is it?” asked Trenton. He waved everyone else to go back to bed.

“The children,” she said, barely able to stand. “They’re missing. They are not in bed where they’re supposed to be. Somehow while my parents were asleep, Brill managed to take them.”

Trenton immediately called the sheriff’s office to see if they would check on the status of Brill Wayland’s incarceration. Whether he had been released or not. It took a while but the news was not good. It was not good at all. And without a formal separation agreement or a court document, he was entitled to have the kids in his possession if he wanted.

Jennifer tried her phone again and it miraculously finally had a few bars. She dialed her husband. He answered clear-voiced, as though he were waiting.

“Man who would have thought I’d get this kind of reception all the way out here in Devils Lake?” he remarked. Everything about him was a villain. His endless supply of smarminess. His endless supply of mean.

“Yeah, who would have thought?” said Jennifer coldly.

“What can I do you for?” Brill said. “It is kind of late.”

“You have the children,” she said acidly.

“Yes I do. I have a lovely nanny to take meticulous care of them,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I want them,” she said.

“Mm,” he replied. “Going to cost you.”

“Want the company?” she asked, though she was in no way going to beg.

“Yes I do,” he answered again. “But I also want a return on the money you stole. You return it with interest. I’ll come to an amount. Once you get that together, why, you can come and get the children. Now, it’s late. And I want to go back to bed.”

“Oh wait, Brill,” she said in a detached, cold tone. “Did you think I was going to bargain with you? I was just asking to see if you were as predictable as you always are. The only deal I’ll make with you is that I won’t kill you…slowly.”

The one thing Brill hated more than anything else, was being challenged. She had turned the tables on him. Now he was feeling his kind of rage and frustration from long distance, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do.

“You bitch!” he shouted.

She could practically feel the spit flying out of his rabid mouth.

“Temper,” she said, using his icky taunting tone. “You want to get your company back, you’ll do as I say. “

She hung up the phone. Despite playing it cool, she was lit with rage. It was as if she was in a tunnel. She could no longer hear or see anything outside a certain space.

“Hey,” Trenton said, stooping so they were face to face. “What’s up?”

“Brill has my kids and he won’t give me them back,” she said.

“Let me work on it,” he said. “I will find something in the law that we can use against him. But baby, I heard the way you handled him. You were perfect. He’s a punk. And punks hate a challenge.”

“He won’t hurt my kids, right? I didn’t just put them in danger, right?” she asked him, as if he would know.

“I don’t think so. They might be the only leverage he has against you. He likes money over anything, and those kids are worth money to him. I’m on this thing,” he promised.

“But that will take time,” she said. “Wait, I didn’t mean to say what you’re offering isn’t wonderful. I have made my problems your problems. We were out here working on my bucket list.”