Promised Ride by Joanna Wilson Page A

motion to indicate the members of the club who were gathered around her.
     
    Christie could feel the anger and hurt and bitterness that boiled out of Zed with each word. Memories flooded over her. She remembered that last night... the lovemaking... the argument... the yelling... the crying. After they had made love for that final time, she had told him that she was leaving the Ryswell Brothers... and him. She was going to better herself before she was dragged down into the Ryswell cesspool with him. She was going to become a police officer. No, better than that, she was going to become a federal agent.
     
    That night, she begged Zed to leave with her, but he refused. “I will always love you,” she said as she clung tightly to him that night. “I will never forget you,” she promised him. Through tears, she begged him one final time to abandon becoming further involved with the Ryswells and to leave with her.
     
    When he still would not leave the club he had so recently joined, she emphatically repeated her promises one final time. “I promise that I will always love you and will never forget you. I promise I will come back to you someday.” Then, just before she left, she said, “Promise me, Zed...”
     
    She never completed the sentence. Like so many things in their relationship, it remained unfinished between them. She’d stared silently into his eyes, which were filled with pain. Then she’d turned and walked out the door.
     
    That was six years ago. Now it was he who stood before her, staring silently into her eyes.
     
    “Strip!” he said gruffly.
     
    “What?” she exclaimed, her eyes widening.
     
    Turning to the man who still had the revolver pointed at her, he ordered, “If she is wearing a wire, or if she is not naked in sixty seconds, shoot her!”
     
    Christie could not believe the hatred she could now hear in Zed’s voice.
     
    He turned to face her once again and said, “Gun first. Pull the clip and empty the chamber, then set it on the rock in front of you.”
     
    Christie reached around to the small of her back and removed the Glock 22 from her holster. She carefully released the clip and let it drop to the ground, then jacked the shell out of the chamber. Leaving the single shell and the clip on the ground, she set the weapon on a large rock alongside the path on which she stood.
     
    “Now the holster”
     
    She undid her pistol belt and set it with the weapon.
     
    “Phone,” instructed Zed. “And remove the battery.”
     
    Soon her phone and its battery were lying on the rock alongside her empty Glock.
     
    “Now strip!’
     
    She fumbled with the buttons to her blouse. “If you need help...” Zed said ominously, and she hurried to remove it. “Just set it there with the gun,” he ordered.
     
    Christie reached down and untied her shoes and stepped out of them. She could feel herself turning red as she slid her jeans down her legs. She set them on the rock with her blouse and stood in her bra and panties before the men who surrounded her.
     
    She was a beautiful woman. Christie had always had a nice body, and the physical training and exercise required by her job had toned that body to perfection. She was proud of her appearance, and under different circumstances, would probably have flexed her stomach muscles to show off her womanly six-pack abs.
     
    “Strip means naked,” said Zed. “You have fifteen seconds left.”
     
    Turning an even deeper shade of red, she quickly unclasped her bra and set it on the rock. Her panties followed shortly thereafter. Standing now totally naked within the circle of men she attempted a smile and tried to say cheerfully, “See, no wire. I’m not wearing anything.”
     
    “Put the body finder with the gun,” Zed said softly.
     
    Christie’s smile disappeared and she tried to feign a lack of understanding. “I don’t know what you mean,” she replied.
     
    He said slowly, “Do you want me... or perhaps David here, to take it