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  Zed’s bike slowed, stopped, and went silent as he killed the engine. Christie raised her head and looked quickly around her, fearing the worst. Then she recognized where they had stopped. They were at the Ryswells’ main club house. That was the first good news of the night... maybe. They wouldn’t kill her here. They knew that the ATF was very aware of the clubhouse and the bar, which was open to the public.

  To an unsuspecting civilian, The Ryswell Roadhouse looked like just another rather large biker bar with several storage buildings attached on the back. It was known for its wild bands, raucous behavior, and readily-available women, both professional and amateur. But Christie knew that the Roadhouse was more than that. The Ryswell Roadhouse was the hub of almost every club activity, legal or illegal.

  As she got off the back of the bike, Zed turned her to face him. “Christie,” he said softly, “if things were different, I would put you back on the bike and we would head up into the mountains, to the cabin, face to face... and we would both be naked.” His face flickered between the softness she had once known and the hardness which he had shown her earlier in the desert. “...but too much has changed.”

  Christie grabbed his head and pressed her lips frantically against his mouth, hoping to catch the Zed she loved before he disappeared once again beneath the tough exterior of the leader of the Ryswell Brothers. The softness of his lips and the way that he returned her kiss told her that she had fulfilled her hope. But it was a fleeting hope, and Zed quickly pushed her away, saying gruffly, “Like I said, too much has changed.”

  He turned to two of the members who had been watching their exchange and said, “Bring her inside.” Zed then walked quickly toward the back door of the club.

  The two men grabbed her roughly by the arms. One leaned close enough to her for her to smell his foul breath and whispered, “You’re alive for only two reasons, lady cop. One is that..” He thrust his hand roughly against the front of her crotch. “We ain’t gonna throw away something that good without sampling it first.”

  They both laughed and then the foul-breathed man continued, “And the second is that Zed thinks he’s still in love with you.” They laughed again. “Once he figures out that you’re just another fuckin’ Federale, he will let us have you for a little fun and then we’ll ship you south.”

  “Like he did to Gloria,” she said bitterly.

  The other man grunted and said, “Before his time. But he’s learning what it takes to be the head of the Brothers.”

  For some reason, Christie began crying. Her situation had not changed, but the relief that it had not been Zed who had disposed of the previous agents was almost overwhelming. Especially the knowledge that it had not been him who had sent Gloria into that hell of a Mexican brothel.

  Zed’s voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts. “You two quit jacking around out here and get her inside. Or are you waiting for someone to fly over and take your fuckin’ picture?”

  As they hustled her through the doorway, she turned to Zed and said softly, “The drones aren’t flying here tonight. They’re all way south in the desert where everyone else thought the buy was going to happen. I told them I knew where you—and the guns—would be. But they wouldn’t believe me.”

  “So you went out on your own to get proof that you were right, didn’t you?” He leaned close and said in almost a whisper, “Having to always be right can cost you a lot. But you already know that, don’t you?”

  Zed turned to a rather large man in a Ryswell’s Roadhouse T-shirt that said “Security” on the front and back and said, “Leroy, put her in one of the basement rooms. Treat her right, but don’t trust her. And never forget that she’s a cop.”

  ***

  The bouncer took Christie’s hand in his own and began to lead her through the back areas of the club. For a huge man with a very rough exterior, he was surprisingly gentle. As he led her down a basement stairway he said, “Don’t worry, doll.” His voice as gentle as his touch. “I’ve got to lock you in, but they’re ok rooms. The girls used to take johns down there before the club added on the party room. Now those rooms are upstairs.”

  They had reached the bottom of the steps. There were two doors on each side of a small hallway and another door at the end. Leroy opened the first door on the right and said, “I’m going to put you in room number two.” Then he added in his soft voice, “There’s a TV and bathroom and everything.”

  As he ushered her into the room, his face suddenly changed. It became harder. “Now, don’t you go trying to escape,” he warned her. His voice had taken on a slightly menacing tone. He smiled at her again and said, “This is the nice room. But if you try to get away, I’ll have to put you in one of the other rooms.” He paused to look down the hallway. “They aren’t as nice. And they have cameras inside them, not just in the hallway.”

  His voice was now almost flat. “And each time I have to move you, I’m not as nice either.” His eyes were absolutely cold and he seemed to look completely through her as he finished with, “You really don’t want me to have to put you in room number five.”

  With that, he pulled the door closed. Christie could hear the click of two different deadbolts telling her that she was a prisoner. She looked around to examine her cell. If you ignored the fact that there were heavy bars on the narrow, basement-style windows and the reality that she might die here, it wasn’t a bad room. She checked the queen-sized bed and discovered clean, high quality sheets that matched the color of the covers and the decor of the room. A check of the bathroom revealed clean towels and personal toiletries such as one would find in a good hotel room. There was even a new toothbrush still in the store wrapper.

  At least she was in a gilded cage.

  A test of the television set revealed that there was no cable, but it could pull in most of the Las Vegas stations. She leaned back against the headboard of the bed and soon fell fast asleep.

  ***

  When the knocking at the door awakened her, it took her a moment to remember where she was. There was no clock in the room and the television was in the middle of some infomercial, so it gave her no clue as to the time. She could see that there was no light at the window and hear the sound of very loud music that was still drifting down from the bar, but that only told her that it wasn’t yet morning.

  “Are you decent?” The voice was Zed’s.

  “Come in,” Christie called out, and the door opened slowly.

  Zed waited until the door had swung open sufficiently for him to see that she was seated on the bed and then he entered. He took a key from his pocket and locked the door behind him. Then he walked over to stand in front of Christie and said, “Leroy’s sitting guard on the other side of that door, so don’t get any bright ideas about knocking me out and stealing my key.”

  “I’m not that stupid,” she answered.

  “How stupid are you?” he replied as he sat in a chair next to the bed. “Did you tell anyone what you were doing or where you were going?”

  “Does it make a difference?” she countered. “Sooner or later they’re going to catch you in the act of either buying or selling your illegal guns. How do you get the automatic stuff into the country, anyway? That’s the big question no one’s been able to figure out. We’ve intercepted some of your shipments going south. They’re all foreign made. If you sell them, you have to buy them from somewhere.” She gave a nervous laugh, “High capacity assault weapons don’t just appear out of thin air.”

  “Nothing appears out of thin air,” Zed responded softly. “And nothing disappears into thin air. Even after six years, it just keeps popping up.”

  “I was talking about guns,” Christie said.

  “I wasn’t,” answered Zed.

  “I want to put a stop to this flow of illegal weapons out of Nevada,” Christie said emphatically.

  “More than anything else?” Zed asked.

  “Do you mean more than us?” she answered. “Do I love my job more than I love you?”

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sp; Zed stared silently into her eyes waiting for her to answer her own question. He had stood up from the chair and she had risen from the bed. They slowly moved toward each other in silence. Their faces were just inches apart when finally, she tearfully answered, “I thought I did.”

  Christie wiped her eyes with the edge of her hand and said in a shuddering voice, “But I was wrong. Even if your men hadn’t caught me, I would never have turned the video over to my boss. If they had ordered me, I would have had to, but nobody even knew I was there. I was going to just go back home and... and...” Christie fell silent, holding back the sobs which wanted to erupt from within her.

  “And do what?” Zed asked.

  She screamed, “Get drunk! Eat a gallon of chocolate ice cream! Cry! I don’t know!” She beat her fists softly against Zed’s chest and allowed the sobs to flow with her words, “All I know is that I left something wonderful six years ago and things can never go back to what they once were.”

  Zed pulled her into his chest and trapped her arms between them. “Some things haven’t changed,” he said and then he placed his mouth on hers. It wasn’t really a kiss. Their lips were pressed together. His mouth was slightly open, but it was as if he were staying at the edge of an actual kiss and leaving the final decision to her.

  Christie would never know for sure if it was her mind or her body which made the final decision as she pushed her mouth more tightly against Zed’s and slid her tongue forward to lick the edge of his lips.

  He had asked and she had answered “yes”. An intense heat immediately boiled up within both of them as they clawed at each other’s clothing. Christie could vaguely remember pulling the covers from the bed as they fell back onto the pale blue sheets.

  Zed’s lips burned across her skin as his mouth sought out her breasts. His hands stroked fire into her legs and back as they roamed across her body. She tried to pull him into herself, but he held back and continued to drive her farther and farther into the hottest flames at the center of the fire of her passion. Finally, his mouth returned to hers and he forcefully kissed her as his substantial member slid into her body.

  Six years it had been since she’d had a man. She had dated a few times, but had not gone beyond some kissing and petting. She knew that some of the people in the office called her “Agent Tease” or “The Ice Queen,” but neither name was true. It wasn’t that she was cold or cruel, it was that none of them had been Zed.

  Tonight it was Zed, and her body was responding with a fire that could melt an entire ice kingdom. She bucked and threw herself upward to meet to meet his thrusts. If she never got out of this captivity, at least she would have this one night with Zed. Her career—her life itself—might be forfeit, but nothing would ever be able to take this moment away from her.

  With a long, loud, guttural moan, she climaxed, shaking and shuddering under Zed’s continued movement. Soon he, with a much quieter groan, erupted within her.

  ***

  They lay intertwined on the bed, sweating and breathing heavily. Then Christie’s facade of strength began to crumble and she started sobbing softly.

  “What’s wrong?” Zed asked, pulling her over onto his chest.

  “You mean besides the fact that I am a prisoner here and the rest of the Ryswells want me dead?”

  “Yeah, besides that,” Zed answered with a chuckle. This was the old Zed. Maybe the new, harder Zed would reappear as soon as he stepped back out that door, but right now it was the old Zed that was cradling her and letting her cry.

  Zed waited for her to answer his original question. He was very good at waiting people out. Christie’s sobs finally stopped and she said softly, “This just isn’t right. I’m a federal agent. You’re a gunrunner.”

  Zed took a deep breath and said slowly, “I told you that it can cost you a lot if you always have to be right.”

  “It has already cost me a lot,” she said sadly. “What happens now?”

  “Do you mean, am I going to kill you?” He asked in reply. “Am I going to ship you south to some friends of the Ryswell Brothers on the other side of the border?”

  This time it was Christie who waited for Zed to answer his own question.

  “No, I am not going to kill you. And I won’t give you to the club so they can have their fun and send you south. But I don’t think that the fellow members of the club will stand for me letting a federal agent go if she is just going to report everything to her superiors.”

  Christie pressed her head against Zed’s chest and said very softly, “Then that doesn’t give you much choice, does it? If you can’t let me go, what other options do you have?”

  “It’s not me who has to make a choice,” he replied. “It’s you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t let a federal agent go,” he explained, “IF she is just going to report everything to her superiors.” Zed stroked her back gently for a moment before continuing. “But if she didn’t report anything to her superiors... in fact, if she reported TO US what her superiors were planning, that would be a totally different matter.”

  “I can’t betray my badge,” Christie answered. “I swore to bring evil people to justice. I keep my promises.”

  “I’m not asking you to totally betray your badge and stop bringing evil people to justice. I’m just asking you to be our drone flying over the ATF. You will report only to me, and all you have to do is let me know what is happening. All I want is information about their plans concerning me. I promise you that I will never ask you to do anything directly against any of your fellow agents. And I keep my promises, too.”

  Zed waited patiently for Christie to answer. His hand continued to softly stoke her back in the extended silence. It was quiet in the room for many minutes. Finally she spoke. “Make love to me.”

  “What?” he asked.

  Christie turned her head so that she could stare directly into Zed’s eyes. “Make love to me. Let me be totally yours and you be totally mine once more before I answer. That way if I... or you... or the club... or... just make love to me like we’re all by ourselves up at the cabin. Then I’ll know that you love me no matter what. “

  Zed continued to softly stroke her back, but now it was different. What he was doing wasn’t different. His hand was moving in the same way across the same path, but Christie’s response was different. It was as if her body was drawing heat... love... life from Zed as he slowly swept his hand from her shoulders down to the beginning of the swell of her buttocks.

  She moaned softly and Zed brought his other hand up to stroke the side of her breast. There was a sharp intake of breath as he brushed across her swollen nipple. They had just made love a few moments ago, but that had been a frantic need for each other. This was different. This wasn’t need. This was desire.

  The difference between need and desire is like the difference between a warm bonfire and a raging inferno. One would warm you, but could consume you, the other would certainly do both. Christie luxuriated in the warm bonfire which flowed from Zed’s hands into her body. And as that warmth spread throughout her body, her own fires began to grow hotter and hotter.

  “Say it,” she breathed heavily. “Please say it.”

  Zed struggled to ask, “What?”

  “That you love me,” she panted. “I want to hear you say it, Zed.”

  Zed pushed slightly on her shoulder to roll her over onto her back. He positioned himself above her and lowered himself until the tip of his penis was just parting the petals of her sex. And then he said, “Yes, Christie, I love you. I always have... I always will.”

  It had probably been Zed’s plan to slowly enter her, but before he could move, Christie arched herself up to meet him and impaled herself on his manhood. The bonfire was now an inferno as desire and need, fear and hope, love and lust all boiled up together within them both. Driven by the heat of the flames, they thrust their bodies against each other with such force that there was a real risk of them toppling from the bed.

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sp; They both continued for many minutes as if their lives depended upon them staying in that glorious moment of ecstasy just before climax. Finally, before the fires could totally consume them, they peaked and lay panting on the now-sodden sheets.

  When their breathing had finally returned more or less to normal, Christie asked, “Now what?”

  “We need to get you back to your gun and your car before somebody finds them,” Zed said quickly.

  “I rode my bike,” she answered.

  He looked at her, slightly startled, and she continued. “You don’t think I got a car all the way out into those hills, do you?”

  “Whatever,” he snapped, and then laughed slightly to relieve the tension that his curt remark had suddenly created. “Car or bike, we need to get you back out there so you can show up at work tomorrow like nothing’s happened. If your office thinks you went missing, and then you just show up, they’ll suspect something.”