Page 35 of Rough Ride

“You deserve to know everything before you make your decision.” She was about to ask for clarification, but his answer came before she could ask. He placed his hand on the gun and slid it toward her. Eliana looked at it, now within her reach, and she had to place a hand on the back of the barstool to steady herself.

“You… you wan-want me to kill myself?” she questioned, and her heart slammed inside her chest. Grier looked at her with a mixture of sympathy and consternation. He nodded once. “No. No!” she proclaimed loudly. “I’m not going to kill myself so your little club can survive.”

“I’m not asking you to save the club,” Grier said over her tirade. “I’m asking you to save Kye. It won’t be long until he’s in Max’s office. He won’t walk out of there. We both know that. But if I pick up this phone,” he continued to explain as he removed his cell phone, “and I tell Max that you’re dead already. Send him a picture of your lifeless body, then Kye is spared the decision. Kye won’t die. You won’t be killing yourself— you’ll be saving his life.”

A short sob burst from Eliana’s mouth, and she nearly doubled over the back of the stool. The weight of his words was heavy, and she felt them. She knew Kye would do it. Kye would let Max kill him before he’d let anything happen to her. He’d promised as much a hundred times. She wanted to protect him too. Was this how to do it? Wasn’t there another way? She ran a hand over her face. Even if there had been another plan, they were out of time.

Grier, at this moment, was checking his watch. How long had it been since Kye left? Was he already in the office? At this very moment, Kye could be on his knees with a gun to his head, being forced to agree to murder her or die. She sobbed again when she thought of it and knew Kye would die. Without knowing it, he’d walked out the door, and she’d never see him again. Their first night together would be their last.

“You love him,” Grier said, coming around to her side of the counter and hesitantly placing a hand on her shoulder. “If you love him, you have to do this. You have to do it now. Before Kye gets to the compound.”

Her hand was shaking as she reached for the gun. Grier stepped aside and let her take it. It was heavier than she imagined. She’d never fired a gun before; the metal was cold. The fleeting thought of turning the gun on Grier and killing him instead crossed her mind, but what would that solve? She’d be free, but Kye would be dead.

“Tell him…” she choked out as she looked at Grier. “T-tell him… tell him I love him,” she pleaded, and Grier nodded. He took another step back. Placing the barrel end against her temple she took a steadying breath and gave Grier one last look before squeezing her eyes shut…

…and pulled the trigger.

Bang.

It was difficult to drive his bike with all the knots in his stomach. Kye was mentally kicking himself for allowing his cell phone battery to die. He’d been so engrossed with Eliana and their steamy night that he had completely lost himself and forgotten about the delicate situation they were in. Both he and Eliana were under the proverbial microscope, and his lapse in judgment would cost them. Assuming he could talk his way out of it, at the very least Max would bolster security at the house. There was no way around that.

The roads were still rain-soaked from the onslaught of rain they’d had these last several days, and the black clouds on the horizon foreshadowed another stormy night. The unpaved road that led to the clubhouse was all mud puddles and loose gravel to the point Kye considered walking. He braved it, however, and by the time he pulled into the courtyard and to the parking lot, his pants were soaked from the knee down and the visor of his helmet was caked.

The impending storm was nothing compared to the rumbling of onlookers. Something was going down. Kye could taste it in the air, and all eyes were on him as he crossed the yard toward the main building. He’d listened to the increasingly irate voicemails that had been left on his phone from the night before, seen the text messages. Max was in a mood, and when that happened, everyone was on edge.

Although he knew he should hurry, Kye couldn’t escape the dread that overwhelmed him, and he trekked slowly through the wreck room, past the gym equipment, the TV screens and into the back hallway. His boots left muddy footprints behind him, and the rubber squeaked on the tile floors.

When he reached the lobby waiting room that led to Max’s office, he was morose, if not surprised, to see the increase in security. In addition to Dhal’s four-man team, there were two others placed at the door and another near the entrance to Max’s office. Dhal greeted him with a snarl.

“Picked a fine time to disappear,” the gruff man said, both hands resting on the pistols on his hips.

“I didn’t disappear; I was working. Not that my business has fuck-all to do with you,” Kye said confidently.

“You think you’re any better than the rest of the lot out there?” Dhal asked, stepping into Kye’s face. “Think Max won’t personally order your balls in a jar to decorate his office if you piss him off? You’re nothing.”

“You need to spend less time thinking about my balls and more time shining your shoes,” Kye said darkly. “First thing I do when I’m in charge is kick your useless ass to the curb.”

“We’ll see about that,” Dhal challenged and snapped his fingers to the guard at the door. “Let him in.”

The man at the door to Max’s office wordlessly turned the knob and swung the door in. Kye entered, fully aware that Dhal was at his back, and he heard the door shut behind him. Max was seated in his armchair and an enforcer stood at his back brandishing an automatic rifle. From the look of Max, he didn’t need to question the reason for all the attention.

“Nice of you to grace us with your presence,” Max croaked. His voice was only slightly smoother than the sound of breaking glass, and he had to hold a handkerchief to his mouth. The man must have suffered a minor stroke. While the right side of his face still held the strength to glare, the left side was partially paralyzed.

“Max,” Kye said, rushing forward. He must have moved too quickly because the man behind the chair flinched. “God, I had no idea…”

“Save your pity,” Max said holding a hand up. “Never thought I’d live to feel so fucking decrepit,” he grumbled as he stood. On top of the slacking face, he now brandished a limp. “You wanna tell me where the fuck you’ve been? I swear to God, if you tell me you spent the last twelve hours in pussy town, Yaakov is going to put a bullet in your head.” Kye glanced at the tall man behind the desk.

“It was a stupid mistake,” Kye said, looking back at Max. “I didn’t go dark on purpose; cell phone went to shit on me that’s all.”

“Mmhmm,” Max said, unconvinced.

“Check the tower records if you need, Max. I was in the same location. It’s just that my battery died.”

“You think I give two fucks about your cell phone?” Max asked, and Kye had to admit, in his haste he should have thought of a better excuse. “We’re on the final stretch of a legacy, the end of the Max Strong dynasty, and where is my right hand? My protégé? Balls deep in his high school sweetheart!”

“That’s not exactly…”

“Don’t lie to me, boy,” Max said sternly, and Kye clamped his mouth shut. Looking minutes from death and the man still intimidated him. “I want to know where we stand. Tell me once and for all where your loyalties lie.”