by Blue, Jayne
I’d told her nothing. She knew we ended things. But I kept the secret of my father’s involvement and the visit I got paid by a member of the Devil’s Hawks to myself. I still hadn’t decided whether I could even tell Joker.
For one thing, I had no good way of contacting him. I had a new phone with a new number. Second, as much as I wanted to kill him myself, I didn’t want to put my father at further risk. I also didn’t want to play into Twomey’s hands. He wanted me in touch with Joker.
For right now, the only weapon I had against all of them was feigned indifference. It stung. The night after Twomey came, I could barely make it out of bed the next morning.
I did though. I came to work and did my job. Being with these kids was the only thing good about my life right now. And Miss Linda had just yanked that away.
“Laney,” I said, turning to her. “What about Joker?”
“I thought ... Oh, Tara. I tried to help. He needed to know that Linda was gunning for you because of him. He said he’d take care of it.”
“How?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know.
“I’m not sure.”
When she tried to put a comforting hand on me, I jerked away. It was petty of me, but I couldn’t help it. If I gave into melancholy, I didn’t think I could function at all. And I had to get through the day.
Somehow, I did. After the cornucopias, we did relays on the playground. In just a few short weeks, it would be too cold for these kids to get outside. Stabbing grief went through me as I realized I wouldn’t be here then.
When the final bell rang, warning me to start getting the kids ready for pick-up, I welcomed it and dreaded it all at once.
I couldn’t say goodbye. I hated myself for it. But I couldn’t bring myself to say something that would stress them out or make Linda’s life easier.
Maybe she’d let me send the class a card. I still had Laney to help. I knew she’d soften the blow to the class as best she could.
She took the kids who had later pick-up down the hall while I helped the rest at their cubbies. Miss Linda then walked them to the curb.
I watched Toby go. He’d given me a big hug on the way out. I didn’t know what Joker had told him yet. Whatever it was, he seemed unconcerned. It was enough he got to see me at daycare.
My stomach dropped as I watched him skip to Miss Linda’s side. A car pulled up I didn’t recognize. Toby held Linda’s hand. I couldn’t see the driver’s face but he handed Linda a folded note. Toby looked from Linda to the driver and back again.
Alarm raced through me. I left the building and walked toward Linda.
As I got closer, I could see the driver’s face. Linda had just finished reading the note. She smiled and put it in the pocket of her dress. Then she opened the back passenger door. Toby was asking her something. He looked unsure. Linda patted his back and helped him climb in the car.
“Toby!” I shouted. “Linda, wait.”
I saw the driver’s face plainly. It was Twomey. He caught me staring and a slow smile spread across his face.
He started to pull away from the curb. Miss Linda walked back to the building. I screamed for all I was worth.
“Hey! Stop! Call 911!”
He was gaining speed. The rest of the cars in the line had no idea why I was flailing my arms and running.
He would have gotten away. He was the first car in line now. The one ahead of him had pulled out of formation, turning toward the street. But that car stalled. Merciful God, it stalled.
I launched myself practically into orbit. I vaulted over the low bushes separating me from the sidewalk. I got in front of Twomey’s car and pounded on the hood.
“Let him out!” I screamed.
Toby was crying in the backseat.
“Toby, run!”
He couldn’t open the back door. Twomey must have engaged the child locks.
“Let him out, Twomey,” I said.
“Get out of the way, Tara, or I’ll run you over.”
“No!” Toby sobbed. “Don’t hurt her. Don’t hurt Mith Tara.”
Twomey slowly lifted his right hand. In it, he held another gun.
“Get in,” he said, pointing the barrel of the gun at the passenger side door.
I froze.
“Get in or I’ll shoot the kid,” he said. “I’ll take one of you, or both of you.”
“Mith Tara, I’m thcared!” Toby cried. My heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces.
I got into the car. The driver ahead of us moved out of the way, oblivious to the terror happening behind him. I barely got the door shut before Twomey floored the gas and we sped out of the parking lot.
“Keep your hands on the dashboard where I can see them,” he said. “Tell the kid to stop crying.”
Twomey kept one hand on the wheel, the other with a firm grip on the gun jammed into my side.
“Toby,” I said. “It’s okay. We’re both going to be okay.”
“Where are we going?” Toby asked.
“Just taking a little drive,” Twomey answered. “I told you, I’m a friend of your dad’s.”
“Exactly what are you hoping to accomplish with this?” I said through gritted teeth.
Twomey didn’t answer. He just kept on driving.
I paid attention. He headed immediately out of Lincolnshire, hitting I-75 as soon as he could. He was going so fast. He was going way too fast.
“Slow down!” I said. “You got me. You got Toby. What good is it going to do if you kill us all in a wreck?”
Twomey didn’t answer. He had his satellite radio tuned to classic rock. An AC/DC song came on and he sang along, badly, at the top of his lungs.
Mercifully, he only drove for forty minutes, turning off at a little roadside motel. I’d passed by this one a thousand times. It didn’t have a good reputation.
Twomey pulled into a stop. “We’re gonna get out now,” he said. “And you’re gonna pick the kid up. Walk in front of me down to Room 15. Got it? You try to run. You try to do anything stupid, the kid gets a bullet.”
“Mith Tara?” Toby said.
“Shh,” I said. “It’s okay, buddy. We’re gonna play a little game. We’ll watch some TV or something until your dad gets here.”
“Good,” Twomey whispered. “Keep him from freaking out.”
I wondered who would keep me from freaking out.
I did as Twomey said. With his gun in my lower back. I went around to the side of the car and opened Toby’s door. He climbed into my arms and cried against my shoulder.
“I’ve got you,” I said. “I promise I’ll never let you go.”
We walked to Room 15. Twomey keyed in the door. It was a sparse room with just one king-sized bed. He had me put Toby on it and turn on the TV. I found the cartoon channel. Toby eyed me with suspicion, but he knew enough to keep still and not cause trouble. Twomey opened the fridge and tossed a few candy bars and a soft drink on the bed. Toby had no interest in eating. He grabbed a pillow and clutched it to his chest.
“Miss Tara and I are gonna talk,” he said. “You stay here and stay quiet.”
“Mith Tara?” he asked.
“It’s okay,” I said. There was a phone on the nightstand. God. Would Toby be smart enough to call for help if I left the room? I doubted he even knew how to use a landline. Still, it was a shot of hope.
One Twomey quickly dashed as led me out. He ripped the cord out of the wall with such force he broke the little plastic plug at the end of it.
He shut the door behind us.
“You’re out of your mind,” I said. “What the hell is this going to accomplish? You take a club member’s kid? They’re going to come after you, Twomey. Hard. Whatever cooperation you thought you had with my dad is out the window too. He may have his issues, but one phone call and now you’ve got the feds after you too. They take care of their own. Just like the club does.”
Twomey smiled. “Oh, I’m counting on it, princess. Now walk.”
He grabbed me by the arm and put his gun
into my back. I stumbled forward as he led me back to the car.
“No!” I shouted. “I’m not leaving Toby.”
“You’re doing exactly what I say.”
Panic set in. I knew in my heart if I let Twomey take me somewhere else, the chances of me surviving until tomorrow shrank. Worse still, it would leave Toby utterly defenseless.
I did the only thing I could. I drew in a breath and let out a scream.
Twomey shoved me to the ground. He pressed his boot into my back, forcing the air from my lungs. I flailed, trying to kick, scratch, bite, anything. But he was too big. Too strong.
Finally, he dragged me up by my hair. He shoved me toward the car. I punched at him. I got close enough to sink my teeth into his arm.
“Son of a bitch!” Twomey yelled.
Then he cocked his fist. I ducked before the first blow fell across my cheek.
I wasn’t fast enough to duck the second. Pain exploded at the back of my head as Twomey hit me with the butt of the gun.
I went down. The sky was upside down. I lurched to the side as Twomey picked me up.
I remember falling out of his arms. I remember the smell of gasoline. I remember a heavy thunk as Twomey closed the lid of the trunk with me inside.
Then the world disappeared and I fell into the blackest of holes.
Chapter Twenty-One
Joker
“Slow down!”
I screamed it into the phone. Nicole’s words came out in an unbroken stream of panic. Brax took the phone from me. He listened to his wife. A second later, Brax slowly closed his eyes and that’s when my stomach dropped. “We need to get over to the daycare,” Brax said.
“Nicole says when she went to pick up Toby, Tara’s friend Laney was hysterical. Somebody showed up, gave the owner a note and she put Toby into his car.”
I couldn’t see straight. Fire and fury bled through my veins.
“Tara got into the car with him,” Brax said.
“Tara was with this asshole?” I said.
Brax’s expression was grim. He shot a look to Colt and Kellan at the table.
“Goddammit. Out with it!”
Brax took a breath. “It doesn’t sound like she went willingly. Laney saw her throw herself in front of the car first.”
I don’t remember what Colt said. He gave an order. I was already running for the door. My brothers fell in step behind me. We raced to our rides.
“The rest of you mount up too,” Kellan called back. Three of the prospects sat at the bar. We were all riding together. We were going in force.
As tail gunner, I usually brought up the rear and kept a lookout for the pack. Today, I rode in front with Colt on point. This was my kid. My war if it came to it.
Toby. God. If anything happened to him …
And Tara. Was she hurt? Had she known what would happen?
We broke every speed limit and made it to the daycare in less than ten minutes. The cops were already there. I saw Tara’s friend Laney talking to one of them. She was sobbing. The second she saw the M.C. ride up, she broke away and ran toward me.
“Joker!” she screamed.
I caught her by the arms. “Where are they? What happened?”
She shook her head. “She tried to stop him. It was some guy. I saw a tattoo on his neck. Couldn’t make it out. Bald. He was driving a tan Lincoln. I couldn’t make out the plates. Michigan though. It happened so fast.”
“Mr. Smith.” One of the Lincolnshire P.D. detectives headed my way. “We have some questions to ask you.”
“The hell you will,” I said. I shot a look to Colt. There was no way I was going to sit around here and waste time with the cops. I couldn’t even trust they weren’t behind this.
“Fuck off,” I told the detective. “Stay outta my way.”
“Joker,” Colt snapped. “I got this.”
He and Kellan went shoulder to shoulder and blocked the cop from getting any closer to Laney or me.
“I think the guy had a gun,” Laney said. “I tried to get to them. I ran after the car.”
“How the hell do you let my son get into a car with a stranger?” My voice echoed. Miss Linda stood on the sidewalk. I touched Laney’s shoulder and charged toward the older woman.
I jabbed a finger in her face. “I sent you a list. You know who he’s allowed to leave with. You just put him in some car?”
“We’re handling the questioning here, Mr. Smith,” the detective said. “Our priority is getting your son back for you.”
Brax was there. He grabbed me by the shoulders. I took a swing.
“Not here,” he shouted. “Not this way.”
I went mad. Berserk. They all expected me to stand here answering stupid questions and wasting time. I heard tires screech behind me.
An older man got out. It took me a beat before recognition slammed in my brain. Gavin Kimball. Tara’s old man. Colt’s investigator had shown me a picture of him.
Brax saw him too. He was of the same mind. We closed ranks and blocked Kimball from getting through the circle.
Brax got to him first. He grabbed a fistful of Kimball’s shirt and threw him back against his car.
“You do this?” Brax hissed.
Kimball’s mouth dropped. “No, man. Jesus. I heard it on the scanner. I came to check on my daughter.”
I glanced back at Colt and Kellan. Colt gave me a slow nod that told me they would field shit with the cops. He made a gesture with two fingers. E.J., Torch, and Brax were with me.
We backed Kimball up. The probies pulled up in a van driven by Mac. Before the cops could intervene, we threw him inside.
“Drive!” I yelled.
Mac put the van in gear and drove out of the parking lot. He went far enough so we were sure none of the cops were following, then I ordered them to pull into an alley.
“You son of a bitch,” I hissed. Brax and Torch had Kimball pinned against the seat.
“You go after my kid?”
Kimball put his hands up. “You need to listen to me. This wasn’t me.”
“You bugged Tara’s phone,” Brax said. “We know all about it.”
“Yes!” he shouted. “I fed intel to a contact with the Devil’s Hawks. Tara didn’t know anything about it. I tried to keep her safe from this. They want to bring your club down, man. Hard. But you have to believe me, Tara wasn’t supposed to know. You’re the one that fucked things up. When you took her phone and ran it through forensics.”
The guy’s leap of logic boggled my mind. I didn’t give a damn.
“Who?” I said. I grabbed him by the collar. Kimball’s eyes went wide. He saw the rage in mine.
“I’ll kill you,” I said. “I’ll crush your fucking windpipe right here. Who are you working with? Davis?”
His lips trembled. “No. No, man. Not Davis. My contact with the Hawks is a guy named Twomey. Sal Twomey. He’s the only one I’ve met with. I swear to God. If he’s feeding intel to the cops, that’s not my part of it.”
“Bald guy,” I said. “Neck tattoo?”
Kimball nodded.
“Where’s he staying?” I asked. “And if you fuck with me …”
“We met at a motel off 75 in Monroe,” he said. “I saw him there as recently as last night. You gotta believe me. I didn’t authorize any move against your kid.”
“No,” I said. “You just bugged Tara’s phone so they picked up all the personal information they needed. Your friend Twomey behind my ex trying to make trouble?”
Kimball closed his eyes. “I gave him access. That’s all. That was my debt. The rest …”
I couldn’t keep my cool another second. While Torch and Brax kept Kimball still, I punched him in the face. His nose exploded. Blood poured down his chin. But he took the hit.
He sputtered and spit blood. “Off exit 17.”
I made eye contact with Mac. He nodded understanding and pulled out the alley, and floored it.
* * *
We made the Lakeside Motel in thir
ty minutes. Brax called the rest of the crew. By the time Mac pulled into a spot, I could already hear the rumbling thunder of a dozen Harleys heading up the expressway.
“Don’t let him move!” I yelled to the prospects. I didn’t want to take the chance that Kimball called out any kind of a warning.
Colt and Kellan pulled up alongside the van and dismounted just as I was about to charge into the lobby.
“Stop!” Colt yelled.
“Prez, get out of my way. It’s my kid!”
“I know that!” Colt yelled back. It took Kellan, Brax, Torch, and E.J. to hold me back. I thrashed in their grip. A red haze clouded my vision.
“It could be an ambush!” Colt shouted. “Think, man!”
I couldn’t. I could only see Toby’s little face. He’d be terrified. And Tara. God. Sal Twomey was the Devil’s Hawks enforcer. If his mission was to grab my kid and she got in his way …
The only hope I had for Tara’s safety was that Twomey knew she was Gavin Kimball’s daughter. No way he could kill her without the approval of his prez. I only hoped we could find them in time.
Drawn by the commotion, the motel manager came outside.
“What’s all the ruckus?” he asked. He was an old guy. Seventy at least. He walked with a shuffling gait and had an honest-to-God pocket protector in his shirt.
“You gotta room rented to a guy named Sal Twomey?” Colt asked. “Neck tats. Bald. He rides with the Hawks. You know that club?”
The manager’s eyes narrowed. “Look, I don’t want any trouble.”
“You’ll have a ton of it if you don’t answer the fucking question!” I shouted.
“Joker?” Torch said. “What did that Laney say he was driving?”
“Tan Lincoln,” Kellan answered. I looked over my shoulder. Torch pointed to a tan Lincoln at the end of the lot.
Brax ordered the others to let me go. Every one of us drew down.
Kellan put a finger to his lips, ordering the manager to keep his mouth shut. We surrounded the car. E.J. came to my side.
“Manager says he’s staying in Room 15.”
I looked inside the car and my heart turned to dust. Toby’s backpack lay on the floor.