Leave a Trail Page 3

  The nightmare broke apart as soon as he had hold of his reality again. He could never remember anything about it except pain and fear, like his heart was being pulled through his ribcage. He rubbed at the spot on the right side of his chest that was still oddly dented from when his ribs had been broken. So strange to touch his own body and only feel it in his hand. It made him feel like he wasn’t quite there.

  Weasel, still whining, licked his face.

  Badger laughed a little and ruffled the fur over the top of the dog’s head. “I’m okay, buddy. I’m okay.”

  He slept in the barn at the B&B, because he couldn’t sleep anywhere else. If he slept at his parents’ house, they’d hear his nightmares. If he slept at the clubhouse, his brothers who lived there would hear him. Only here, on the floor of his office, propped up against a saddle and sleeping on and under horse blankets, were there no ears that would pry.

  Nobody knew—his parents thought he was at the clubhouse, and vice versa. Because he was livestock manager, people at the B&B expected him to be at work early, so nobody blinked when his bike or truck was parked outside early, and nobody had seemed to notice that he was parked there late, too.

  His heart still racing from the terror of his disappearing dream, Badger got up from the floor and went to his desk. It was an old desk that Lilli had picked up at an estate sale somewhere. Some of the drawers stuck, including the topmost drawer on the left-hand side. But Badger knew the secret to getting it open—and he knew the secret it contained. A small hidden compartment at the back. He opened that now and pulled out a plastic baggy of green pills. Oxy 80s.

  Tasha had never given him a dose this high. But nothing else did anything anymore. She had him on Darvocet now, which might as well be aspirin.

  This bag had cost him a fucking fortune, but he didn’t have anything else to spend money on, and he needed to buy in bulk. It wasn’t like he could run down to the street corner dealer.

  He took a dose out, crushed it, and sorted the resulting powder into a couple of narrow lines. Snorting was so much better—faster, more intense—than swallowing. Just as he was about to take it in, his personal cell pinged a text. He thought to ignore it, but it was lying screen-up on his desk, and Adrienne’s photo came up on his screen. He hadn’t talked to her in weeks. The last time had been a fucking disaster.

  She’d texted him a few times since, but he had nothing to say. He’d exposed himself far too much the last time, and he wasn’t about to do it again.

  He looked over at his phone to read the text.

  Check in, it said.

  He stared, then set his perma-rolled dollar bill down and picked up his phone to scroll through her messages he hadn’t returned.

  Three weeks ago: Been thinking about our talk. I’m worried.

  Two weeks ago: I’m here to talk or text or skype. Whenever.

  One week ago: Badge? U okay? Talked to S. so I know ur breathing. Didn’t say anything, tho, promise.

  Yesterday: U mad?

  Five minutes ago: Check in.

  Now, as he was reading through: Check in now or I tell Show.

  Fuck. One wasted phone call, and she had his balls. He’d fucked everything up. He couldn’t deal. He couldn’t. His heart was still going from that fucking nightmare, and now it was tripping over what he’d told Adrienne. If she told Show…that bitch. She’d promised she wouldn’t.

  Fucking bitch! Fucking lying bitch!

  His head and heart were going to explode both at once. He tossed his phone on the desk and did his lines.

  It was the best thing he’d ever felt. Every time, it was the best thing. A roaring rush, everything in his head going full volume all at once, his heart racing even faster, and then, like a switch, it all went away, and he was left with calm and contentment. Numbness moved up from his nose, into his brain, and through his every nerve. The nightmare was gone, the fear was gone, the pain was gone. No anger. No worry. He dropped back in his chair and smiled. Damn, that was good.

  Another text pinged—Adrienne again, of course. Badger leaned forward and grabbed his phone.

  Last chance. Calling Show right now. Waking him up. CHECK IN.

  Smiling, he texted back. Sleeping. Middle of the night u know. Im good. U good?

  After a minute, his phone rang—she was calling. He smiled at her picture filling his screen and let it ring.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Welcome to Signal Bend!

  The first time Adrienne passed that sign, it had been a different sign—faded and peeling, offering an anemic welcome. A year or two ago, the town had replaced that old relic, and now people driving into town got a more enthusiastic greeting—in bright colors, with exclamation points, illuminated with spotlights so that its welcome was warm even in darkness. Along the bottom of the pretty, stylized image of a quaint signal house next to a bending railroad, a smiling signalman standing beside it, were several logos: the Signal Bend Chamber of Commerce, the 4H Club, the local Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts, and the Flaming Mane of the Night Horde MC.

  A lot had changed in this little town since the first time she’d come. Shops and businesses had been built up, houses that had been abandoned had been restored and filled with families. It was still an insignificant little town, but when she’d first visited, it had shown the wounds of a losing battle, and now those wounds seemed to have healed.

  It was nearly ten o’clock on a Friday night. Adrienne had intended to stop for the night in Illinois, hours ago, but then she was so close, having already driven more than eight hundred miles over two days, and she just didn’t want to stop again.

  She hadn’t fully calculated that she’d be coming into town so late on a Friday night. She’d only been in Signal Bend half a dozen times in the past four years, but she kept in touch regularly with Shannon and Badger, and he knew that the Night Horde had parties on most Friday nights. She’d been to the clubhouse a few times, but never on a Friday night—yet she’d heard that those parties got pretty intense.

  The turn for the clubhouse came up on her right; the clubhouse was visible from the main road, which became Main Street about five hundred feet farther in. To get to Shannon and Show’s house, Adrienne would need to drive into town and turn left at the main crossroads. Without really thinking about it, she turned right, drove the short distance to the clubhouse entrance and pulled in.

  Considering the wild reputation of Horde parties, she’d expected the lot to be more crowded, but it was only about half full, mostly with bikes and trucks she recognized. She parked her yellow 1974 Beetle convertible in the closest available space. The little car rattled a little and seemed to sigh as Adrienne turned off the engine. Almost three hundred thousand miles on her, and she was getting a little tired.

  Adrienne had always thought of her car as a ‘she.’ For the first few years she’d had her, since she was sixteen, she’d called her Daisy. Then she’d gotten to know Showdown, and she couldn’t think of a car by that name anymore. But she was still a ‘she.’

  For a few seconds, Adrienne sat behind the wheel and considered whether it would be a mistake to go into the clubhouse. The club knew her, but she didn’t know about the other people who’d be in there. Show had always been adamant that a Friday party was no place for her, and she’d taken him at his word. So what would she be walking into? She was a little scared.

  But Show’s bike was in the lot. So was Badger’s. They wouldn’t let anything happen to her. And, honestly, the reason she was here in Signal Bend, only two months after her last visit, was Badger. He was being weird. More than that, he was worrying her. A lot. He’d been strange since the fall. She knew something had gone down with the club; when she’d visited in January, they’d all looked different—they’d all been different.

  She’d come around the corner upstairs one morning when the master bedroom door had been open. Show had been pulling a t-shirt on, his back to the door. His back was a horror of scars. She’d gasped—she’d almost screamed, really—and he’d turn
ed around to see her standing in the hallway with her hand over her mouth. He’d smiled sadly and said only, “It’s okay, little one. I’m okay.”

  It wasn’t just him. Len now wore an eye patch. Havoc was dead. And Shannon was pregnant. At forty-two. After always insisting that she didn’t want another child. All the Horde and their families were different in some way. She didn’t know why, only that whatever had happened was terrible.

  And Badger—he looked okay, but he was maybe more changed than any of them. They’d developed a close friendship over the past four years, talking and texting several times a month, hanging out together when she came to visit. But since the fall, he’d been like a stranger to her. They talked a lot less often, and he was different when they did. Sometimes, he was hostile. Sometimes, he was open and raw. Sometimes he was almost like he’d been. But he was mostly distant. It broke her heart.

  Adrienne was a little in love with Badger. Maybe fifty percent in love with him. But he didn’t feel that way about her, so she didn’t let herself get any further than the crush stage. She’d tried to make something happen a few times, and they’d made out a few times, but he always set her away right about the time she thought they’d go further than just kissing. He only wanted to be friends. She’d rather be friends than nothing, so she’d stopped trying to make it more than that. She knew it was true that he didn’t want more, because he wasn’t jealous. He didn’t mind when she was dating. In fact, he’d talked her through a rough breakup a year or so ago. He’d talked her through a couple of breakups, actually. She’d been dumped a lot. She didn’t really meet guys’ expectations.

  She and Badger, though, were buds. He was her best friend, really—which was probably sad, since they lived a thousand miles apart and she had this massive crush on him. But he was easy to talk to, and he didn’t just chat about nonsense like the girls she was supposed to be besties with. They talked about things that mattered—at least the things that mattered to them, to each other. Over the years, he’d learned more about her than anyone. Probably more even than her family. And she thought the same was true about how she knew him.

  But other than those few kisses, the closest they got physically was sitting together watching horror movies in Show and Shannon’s living room, when she’d bury her face in his arm or his chest during the scary parts. She made sure to be ‘scared’ pretty often.

  When she’d visited in January, he wouldn’t touch her at all. Not even a friendly hug. Heck, not even a handshake. She’d been in town for four days, and she’d seen him one time, and they had not touched even in passing. She’d left heartbroken, thinking that he didn’t even want to be friends any longer.

  And then, a couple of weeks later, he’d called her. Sobbing—and very clearly wasted out of his head. He’d been almost impossible to understand, but he’d rambled on about nightmares and pain and blood and…Adrienne had thought he’d had some kind of hallucination, because half the things she’d been able to make out from his garbled ravings had been too horrific to be real—too nightmarish even to be nightmares.

  Except when she took into account Show’s back. And Len’s eye. And Havoc. And Badger, who was just…broken.

  He’d seemed to come out of his fit a little at the end of the call. Panicking about what he’d disclosed, he’d sworn her to secrecy. Not sure exactly what secrets he’d revealed, she’d promised not to say anything to anyone. And she hadn’t. But then he’d cut contact completely. Until last week, when she’d threatened to tell Show. At least then, she’d gotten a text back.

  Something was really wrong. And even though he’d pulled away—or maybe because he’d pulled away—Adrienne couldn’t just sit in her father’s house in New Paltz, New York and wonder. She had to know. Without breaking her promise, she had only one option: see for herself. So here she was, getting out of her car in the Night Horde clubhouse lot.

  The night air was chilly and a little damp on this March night, so there were only a few people milling around outside, none of whom she recognized. They all watched her go in, though, their curiosity whetted. She smiled at their stares and opened the door.

  The room was redolent with sounds of country music and chatter, and the smell of weed, cigarettes, and booze. Except for the country music, it wasn’t that different from the few frat parties she’d attended at Columbia. Stopping just inside the door, she took it all in. Not a bad crowd, though not really a wild one. Some people were playing video games. Others were playing pool. Everybody was drinking. A couple of girls were dancing in a vaguely sexy and clearly drunk way. But the scene felt a lot more subdued than she’d been expecting. Show was standing at the bar, his back to her. Len stood next to him, and he saw Adrienne. He cocked his head and said something to Show, who turned around, his brows raised in surprise.

  Then Show grinned and walked over. “Hey, little one.” He bent down and folded her up in his massive arms. It was like being hugged by Mt. Everest. “What’re you doing here? Not supposed to be in until tomorrow, right?”

  Still snugged into his chest, she hugged him back as hard as she could. He wasn’t her father—she had a wonderful father already—but she’d come to really love this giant, gentle man. When she’d first met him, he’d beat a man unconscious practically right in front of her, but he didn’t scare her even a little. “I didn’t want to stop again. Motels give me the creepies.”

  He set her back and looked down at her. “Well, I’m glad to see you. Shannon’s not here, though, hon. She’s at home.”

  “Is she still feeling gross?”

  “Not so bad as she was. Just tired a lot. She’s probably sleeping, but I can give her a call and let her know you’re in early.”

  “No—no. Let her sleep. Can I hang here for a little? Is Badge around?”

  He looked around, and Adrienne could see his hesitation. He didn’t want her here. But when he turned back to her, he was smiling. “Sure. Don’t wander much. I’ll be heading out in an hour or so, and I’ll follow you home. Sound good?”

  “Yeah. Sounds great. Is Badge here?”

  Again, there was some hesitation. “Think so, yeah. You want a drink? Beer?” He put his huge hand on her back and pushed her gently but with determination toward the bar. She let him, because she got it. Badger didn’t want to see her, and Show knew it, somehow. She’d always gotten the impression that he wasn’t thrilled with their friendship, but not in any kind of aggressive way. He didn’t get between them; it was more like he just preferred her away from the club. Maybe that was all his hesitation tonight was—her first time in the clubhouse during a party, coming in and surprising him, made Show just generally reluctant. But it felt like more.

  “A beer for the lady, Double A.”

  Double A, wearing a Prospect kutte, poured her a beer from a tap. He was pretty cute, and when he smiled as he handed her the glass, he was gorgeous. She smiled back, but then his eyes shifted to Show, and his smile disappeared. As she took a drink, she turned to see Show glaring at him. So maybe his weird vibe truly was just him not really wanting her in the clubhouse after all.

  For a while, she sat between Show and Len, drinking her beer and chatting about her drive, her father and brothers, Shannon, the house Len was building—a lot of aimless chitchat, but nice. This was not at all the party she’d expected to walk in on. There was no sign of Badger yet; maybe Show had been wrong, and he wasn’t around after all.

  Nearing the time that he wanted to leave, Show headed off to the bathroom. Then she happened to look down the bar, and she saw Badger walking into the Hall.

  To Len, she said, “Excuse me,” then turned and slid off her stool. Badger saw her as she took a couple of steps in his direction. He stopped, surprised, and stared at her.

  He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes, and he stood with a slight hunch of his shoulders. It was subtle, but she’d noticed it in January, too. Even so, he was beautiful. He had amazing hair—long and thick, dark auburn—and a full beard that felt really wonderful
on her mouth. And he had the most fantastic eyes of anyone ever. Pale green. Like seafoam green. He was tall and thin, but strong, with great definition in his arms. She’d seen his chest once, when he showed her his tattoo there, and he was defined there, too. She bet he looked wonderful naked. It made her blush to think it.

  Still blushing, she smiled and said, “Hi, Badge. Surprise!”

  He said nothing, just stared. Then he backed off a couple of steps and turned toward the couches arranged in one large corner of the room. There was a really pretty blonde girl leaning on a wall, talking to a couple of other pretty girls. Adrienne stood where she was and watched Badger grab the blonde by the arm and lead her to one of the couches. He sat, pulling the girl down in front of him, until she was kneeling between his legs. With barely a pause, she started opening his jeans. Badge put his hand on her head and leaned back on the couch, his eyes closed.

  Adrienne felt sick, but she couldn’t stop staring. She stood there like a fool and watched the blonde pull Badger’s dick out—right there in the middle of everything—and then stick it in her mouth.

  Her stomach rolled dangerously.

  They were just friends—if that. He barely talked to her anymore. She had no business feeling like she did, but that didn’t change anything. It hurt. A lot.

  A hand went around her arm, and she jumped. “Come on, doll. Come finish your beer. Show’ll be out in a second.”

  “I don’t want it.” She could not look away. Badger’s hand clenched in the blonde’s hair as she bobbed up and down on him.

  Adrienne had never even done that to anybody, and there Badger was, getting it done in public. Nobody else even seemed to notice.

  “Adrienne. Come on. This way.” Len pulled harder and put his other arm around her shoulders, forcing her to put her back to the scene on the couch. He led her back to the bar and sat her down on the stool.

  “Not what it looks like, darlin’.”

  She made herself shrug. She didn’t know Len very well, so she didn’t know why he thought he could talk about this with her, or why he thought she’d care who was sucking Badger’s dick. But she knew he was trying to be nice. “It’s exactly what it looks like, but it’s not my business. We’re just friends. Maybe not even that anymore.” If that was true, then why had she just driven her forty-four-year-old car more than a thousand miles in two days?