“I don’t like rules,” Bish would reply. Now, all he said was, “You okay?” to Jessa, and only because I’d signed it to her first.
She gave a small nod, said, “I’m not used to this,” in a tight voice.
How anyone could’ve been so sheltered during what seemed like a mix of the apocalypse and the second coming of Christ, I had no idea. None. But her eyes were wide and it was like she’d never seen weather like this.
I switched on the radio again—I’d turned it down when the weather got nasty and now the Metallica CD that drove Bish crazy (and was practically embedded in there) came on full blast. She jumped for a second, but it gave her something else to concentrate on besides the way the van hydroplaned, thanks to the wind-and-water combo.
“Is this...normal?”
“Where have you been living?” Bish asked bluntly. I glared at him in the rearview and he shrugged.
“Underground. In a bunker,” she admitted. “I wasn’t allowed out much at all. These past couple of weeks have been eye opening.”
I tried to digest that. Couldn’t imagine not knowing what the Chaos had been all about, but Jessa was from an entirely different world. Even though she’d held my hand and teased me about her grandmother, she was scared, maybe as much as she’d been with the LoV.
She’d seen what I was capable of. I rarely showed my hand so early to any woman. Most of the time, they only sensed what I could do when necessary.
Everyone wanted to be protected. Admitting it seemed to be the hard part for most people, which was something I never understood. There wasn’t any shame in wanting to feel safe. On the other hand, if I felt safe for too long, I got antsy. I needed the violence and danger the way others needed air and I’d certainly gotten more than my fair share in the past hour.
We’re close, I signed and Bish translated. Then I signed only to Bish, I’ll stay with her and Bish signed back, And I’ll do the dirty work with Caspar.
Caspar was the president of the MC, and he wasn’t going to be happy about the visitors we were bringing inside. If it wasn’t storming, we’d have been explaining it to him at the gates. So actually, I’d never been more grateful for a storm in my life, since it would buy us more time. If we were lucky, evidence of the burned bodies would be washed away. Bish had rolled the cars and the bikes into the lake, and with the added wind, they might sink or get pushed farther downstream. Eventually, the LoV and mafia would miss their people, but for now, we’d made it here, barely beating the start of the worst of the hail.
Now, I pulled the van through the gate using the remote code. The guards had already taken cover underground, watching us through the camera feed. Once I got to the warehouse, where I’d park, Bish got out and opened the doors for me to drive through, and I saw how hard it was for him to hold them back against the wind. I pulled in quickly and he shut the doors behind him with a loud bang. The wind buffeted the reinforced metal and Jessa hugged herself.
The warehouse was massive. The main floor was a giant maze of rooms off the large open parking garage where the cars and bikes were worked on as well as stored during storms. There was also a basement, which led to offshoots of the tubing systems. Charlie would be locked in here with us, but several soundproofed, windowless rooms over from where I’d stay with Jessa in the garage.
The other half of the garage was for the tubing, where the giant cranes and other machines were stored. Defiance had started building their heavy equipment from salvaged spare parts of construction equipment partially destroyed from the Chaos, because they were a necessity for their tubing business. When the tubes were done, Caspar would send teams out, in separate trucks. The tubes were assembled once on-site, because they were afraid they’d be ambushed if anyone saw them along the way. People would kill for the generators alone.
The warehouse had held up well enough after the initial Chaos, Caspar told us, and had since been further fortified. But being underground was always safer, which is where the rest of Defiance was, since the compound was on lockdown.
There was a trapdoor, but bringing an outsider down into the tubes wasn’t done, not even if they were in need of medical attention. The tubes were Defiance’s last and greatest defense and letting a stranger see what exactly we had down there would be a mistake of epic proportions.
Rules were in place for a reason. Letting our guard down could harm Defiance, and that was one rule I understood.
I’d send Bish down to let Caspar know what the hell happened at the lake, but Jessa and I would have to ride out the storm here, unless something happened. Like the warehouse collapsing. In which case, I guess going underground wouldn’t matter since we’d be dead.
But for now, I was the one to distract Jessa from...everything. Including and especially the fact that Charlie was still tied up and drugged, that Bish was currently taking him out of the van and carrying him to a room where he could be tied more securely, and locked in.
Thankfully, she was too engrossed in looking at the rows of motorcycles, and the music was loud enough to mask the sounds of the van doors opening and closing.
Even though she wasn’t jumping at every sound now, she was more tense than when we were driving. Grudgingly, I pulled out the alphasmart device I hated, but Bish kept charged for situations like this.
I typed in, It’s all right. We’re prepared for this, and I showed it to her.
“Okay,” she managed. “I just don’t like storms.”
Are you ready to talk about what happened out there?
She countered with, “I want to know where I am. Defiance? Is that another gang?” I typed MC and then pointed to all the Harleys lined up around the warehouse floor. “What’s the difference between an MC and a gang?”
These days, sometimes the line was thin, but there was a difference. For one thing...motorcycles.
That got a slight smile out of her. And then she said, “The Lords are an MC too, right?”
I nodded. They’re not like Defiance.
“I want to believe you.” She glanced around. “I have to admit, I was expecting to be tied up the second we got here. Not that I’m giving you any ideas.”
I gave her a grin, mainly because I was picturing her in a far different tied-up position than she was thinking about. It must’ve shown on my face because half a second later, she blushed and gave me a shy look. “God, you’re a flirt.”
I shrugged. I really wasn’t. I just couldn’t remember ever being this blown away by any woman, the way I’d been from the first moment I’d laid eyes on her.
Bish would tell me it was because I didn’t get laid enough. He went to Kat’s—the local brothel—a lot. I couldn’t. Even though the women there were happy and willing, it was too fucking sad to me. So I got a few blowjobs from the local Defiance women during parties, but as long as I got to fight, I didn’t need a lot of sex.
But now, my blood was goddamned pumping. Jessa was too close and smelled too damned good, somehow, even through the smell of fear and blood and dirt.
“Can I...get out? Stretch my legs?” she asked and when I nodded, she did just that. While she wandered around, I set up the air mattress in the van—kept the back door half opened, because sometimes small spaces were more comforting. The motorcycle I normally stored back there was being restored by Rebel, so there was a lot more room than normal.