I knew too much and I’d keep my mouth shut and keep playing the victim, because I was one. And maybe, maybe, they’d turn us back over to Washington and play heroes.
I really didn’t want that to happen but I didn’t know what exactly to hope for—to ask for—at this point. So instead, I hugged my knees to my chest and I stared out the front window and I asked the simplest question I could. “Who are you?”
“I’m Bishop. He’s Mathias.”
Mathias, the dark-haired angel. I rolled his name around in my mind and kept my gaze forward. Thankfully, neither man turned back to look at me, but Mathias did make limited eye contact through the rearview mirror. I didn’t know if that was because he didn’t trust me not to turn around and free Charlie, but he didn’t have to worry. There was no way I’d help Charlie.
It was dark inside the back of the van, and that made me ultimately embrace it, letting it cover me like a warm blanket.
Charlie hadn’t moved at all. That didn’t mean he wasn’t awake and I wondered what he’d say if I answered all the questions Mathias and Bishop asked.
He’d have you arrested. Which was better than him trying to sell me.
My belly was a tight knot, especially as I realized how close I’d been to being sold... “Who would that man have sold me to?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.
Bishop and Mathias kept their eyes straight ahead, but Mathias put a hand up and signed and, after a beat, Bishop translated. Keller typically sells the women he gets to the Albanian mafia. In Albania. Because you’re important...
“I’m going to be sick. Please pull over.”
They didn’t—not right away—and I held a hand over my mouth and tried to keep the bile down. These were suspicious men who no doubt thought I was trying to escape. “Please,” I managed and Mathias jerked the van to a stop.
I lunged for the door and Mathias was next to me, holding my hair and rubbing my back, a silent presence far stronger than any words could’ve been.
When I finished getting sick, he handed me a towel and water. He pulled the bottle from my lips when I started gulping. And finally, he handed me a piece of peppermint candy, the kind my grandmother used to keep in a dish on her dining room table. There were always butterscotch candies in there too, but the signature red-and-white candies were my favorites. Grandma always used to sneak them to me, then say, “You and me, Jessa, we’re so alike.”
We were, right down to our names. I thought about what she’d tell me now, how strong she’d had to be growing up and I knew that she was rooting for me. That she’d guide me, if I’d let her.
I’d never believed in that before, but I needed something to believe in out here, in the desolate world where everything I’d once known had changed. And even though I hadn’t liked my life before the Chaos, at least it had been the devil I knew.
Now, there were far too many devils and not enough angels. The man next to me was definitely a mix of both and my cheeks heated as I realized I’d been staring at him, studying him. He gave me a small grin, like he knew, like he was used to women staring at him that way, and I let him help me up off the dirt and back into the van.
Mathias finally unwrapped the candy for me and held it in front of my lips until I took it from him. The peppermint flooded my mouth, a comfort and a practicality for the nausea and the nasty taste in my mouth all at once. When he helped me back to the van, he put me into the passenger’s seat. Bishop was sitting where I’d been.
“Sitting up front makes you less carsick,” Bishop offered, even though we all knew that carsickness hadn’t been the only issue. But the more space I could put between me and Charlie, the better. I kept waiting for Mathias to tie my hands but he didn’t. When I drifted off to sleep, I thought maybe they’d drugged me with the water. The more likely culprit was the slow rock of the van, the radio, my head resting on the seat that was already in a perfect semi-reclined position.
For all I knew, these guys worked for my parents and were bringing me back to them. When I caught myself praying that wasn’t the case, I knew there were a lot of things I needed to figure out, and fast.
I woke, screaming and kicking. It only took a few moments to realize that I wasn’t gagged or in chains, the way I’d spent most of the past two weeks, at the LoV’s mercy.
Mathias was the first one to come into focus. He was signing to Bishop’s voice. You’re all right, Jessa. Take a breath.
I did. And I realized I was holding Mathias’s hand, his palm warm in mine. Holding it like we were lovers, like he was my lifeline, my fingers curled through his. I stared at our hands, fisted together, and I wondered if I’d ever understand any of this.
It’s a crazy time for everyone.
Bishop’s voice, Mathias’s free hand signing. I stared into Mathias’s dark eyes and I saw more understanding there than I ever had. “My grandmother would’ve reconsidered her stance on men for you.”
Bishop laughed—it had been a long time since I’d heard a real laugh—and he translated as Mathias signed, Grandmothers aren’t really my type, but I’m guessing there’s a compliment in there somewhere.
“Definitely.” I was flirting with the violent angel in leather. Flirting. After I’d thrown up in front of him. After everything, I still felt the taut butterfly nerves in my belly. And despite everything, I liked it.
He looked like the other bikers, thanks to his tattoos, and there was a leather jacket on the seat next to me, although it didn’t have the name of any biker club on the back of his jacket. Granted, he drove a van and not a bike, but he had that air about him. Less vengeful and outwardly cruel, but he hadn’t shied away from violence.
Neither had I. What was happening to me? Were two weeks enough to turn me from a pampered girl into a fighter, or had she always been there, waiting for the right time?
My grandmother liked to say that necessity was the mother of invention. Until this moment, I’d never truly understood what that meant.
Finally, Mathias clicked on the radio and slid a CD in and “Enter Sandman” came on, loud, pounding music surrounding us.
It was a song about exit lights and never-never land that was terrifying and poetic all at once. I realized how much I’d missed music, having been without it for the past weeks. I absorbed the beat as I watched Mathias’s long fingers play along the wheel, tapping and strumming like he was creating the music. Like he was singing with his hands. He wore several heavy-looking silver rings on each hand. I couldn’t make out all the designs but there was the obligatory skull and his long fingers, doing inappropriate, mesmerizing things to my nervous system.
Chapter Four
You’re a mystery, always runnin’ wild
Mathias
The storm came on faster than I’d anticipated—you’d think I’d have taken shit like storms coming up out of nowhere into consideration, and normally it wouldn’t matter. Bish and I would park, hunker down and wait it out. But we had the president’s son and the VP’s daughter and we couldn’t take chances with either of them, even if I was ready to throw Charlie out of the van to fend for himself.
I didn’t slow down. The van charged through the rain and hail and the only concession I made was to put on the headlights I rarely used. Bish was sitting up between the seats watching the road with me, my right hand, my second pair of eyes. Jessa was tense as fuck.
She’d held it together really well, but that shit wouldn’t last long. She’d started to get quiet, which meant she was thinking too much. Men were dangerous when they got quiet, but quiet women could be the kiss of death, like a bomb with no way to detonate, Bish used to say and I’d argue back that there were ways. It’s just that each one was different. Each woman came with her own set of rules.