by Lane Hart
“The sheriff’s department.”
“Son, let it go. Let her go!”
“I can’t do that,” I tell him while shaking my head. “I won’t do that.”
Grabbing my phone and my keys, I start for the door, but he continues to block my path.
“Move!” I order him.
“You’re making a mistake and asking for trouble!” my dad says. “Do you want those men to come back here and hurt us or kill you?”
“I don’t have a choice,” I grit out.
“Sure you do. Sometimes you have to think with your head and not your heart.”
“That’s the biggest load of shit I’ve ever heard,” I mutter before I shove him back out of the way so I can leave.
Evelyn is everything to me, and she’s in danger. Somehow, someway I will figure out how to save her.
It turns out that the sheriff doesn’t come into the station until around seven a.m. I found out the hard way after I sat my ass down in one of the plastic chairs in the lobby around two a.m. and waited for her, refusing to leave a message for her or to talk to any deputies. I’m going straight to the top of the chain of command for this rather than waste days or weeks getting the runaround from her staff.
I’ve called Evelyn over and over, but her phone kept going straight to voicemail until I had left so many messages for her to call me back that the mailbox is now full. Texting to get a response from her hasn’t worked either as they’ve all gone unanswered. I even called her mom, hating myself for bothering her in the middle of the night when she’s already got enough on her plate, but she didn’t answer the house phone any of the fifteen or so times I tried.
“I’m guessing you’re the one who has been waiting for me all night,” a commanding feminine voice says, startling me since I had nodded off.
“About time,” I mutter as I blink my eyes open and get to my feet in front of Jade Engle, our county’s pretty, yet hard-ass sheriff. Her auburn hair is pulled back, and she’s wearing an immaculate brown uniform while holding a cup of steaming coffee in her right hand.
“Look, kid, this isn’t the 7-Eleven,” she retorts sternly with her left hand propped on her hip, right next to the gun in her holster. “I can’t stay awake twenty-four seven to meet with any and everyone who walks in off the street. Even if I could, I have a husband and daughter at home.”
“Right. Sorry,” I mutter, tired and grouchy, snapping at her when I’m actually pissed at myself and need her help.
“Come on into my office and tell me what’s so important you had to sleep in my lobby,” she says as she leads the way, shutting the door behind me once we’re both inside. I take one of the two visitor chairs in front of her desk as she sits down in the high-back executive chair and takes a sip of her coffee. I assume she’s waiting for me to speak, so I do.
“I need to file a missing person report for Evelyn Young,” I start off.
“Okay, first, let’s start with your name.” She sits her coffee cup down to flip to a new page on the yellow legal pad in front of her before grabbing a pen to take notes.
“Cedric Crawford.”
“All right, Cedric. How old is Evelyn, and how is she related to you?”
“She’s eighteen, and we’re…friends.”
“How long has she been missing?” the sheriff asks while looking down at her note pad.
“Since last night. She’s with some deranged asshole, and I’m sure she’s in danger! I keep calling her, but she won’t answer her phone and I have no idea where he’s taken her!”
“Well,” she starts with a sigh when she puts the pen down to take another sip of her coffee. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but she’s an adult. And unless you have some sort of proof of foul play, our office doesn’t use our limited resources to track down girlfriends who don’t answer their phones.”
“It’s not like that!” I assure her. “She’s my best friend. We’ve been friends since we were ten, and this guy she’s with, he’s bad news! You need to find Evelyn and save her from those evil bastards!”
“And you don’t think she went with him of her own will?” the sheriff asks. I don’t immediately respond because I don’t want to lie to her, but at the same time, I think he’s fucked up her head. “That’s what I thought,” the sheriff says in response to my silence.
“Okay, so she didn’t exactly protest, but he did pick her up and carry her out of my house after they broke in! I know Evelyn, and she doesn’t really want to be with him. His name is Lowell, and he runs with some motorcycle gang.”
That information apparently has the sheriff perking up. “What motorcycle gang?” she demands.
“I don’t know.”
“Was he wearing a leather jacket with the sleeves cut off?”
“No, I didn’t see a leather jacket, but he was wearing a denim shirt with the sleeves cut off,” I tell her. I definitely remember that. A dude wearing double denim, jeans and jacket, always stands out.
“Do you remember seeing any patches or names on the shirt?”
“Ah, yeah, actually,” I say. “There was a card, like a big playing card on the back.”
“An Ace with a skull in the middle?” the sheriff asks.
“Yeah, I think so. How did you know?”
“I’ve heard rumors about those boys — the Dirty Aces MC, a couple of stragglers left over from the Ace of Spaces. They ended up moving out of the area after the Savage Kings took down the Aces’ bar in Wilmington.”
“I have no clue what the hell you just said,” I tell her, since honestly it sounds like a lot of poker gibberish.
“The Dirty Aces is a motorcycle club that’s now located in Carolina Beach. They used to be part of a club known for dealing meth, but it was supposedly terminated by our local MC, the Savage Kings. We had hoped the Kings had shut them down for good, stopping the drugs from coming up the coast, but they just moved and started a new charter under a new name down south.”
“So you think Evelyn could be in Carolina Beach with a meth selling motorcycle gang?” I ask. It may take a few days, but I can get a gun and then drive down there to find her. It’s only a few hours away.
“Don’t get any crazy ideas, kid,” the sheriff mutters, as if she can read my mind. “If you walk into their territory alone, you may never see your parents or your friend again. And that won’t do anyone any good.”
“I know, but I can’t just sit around and not help her!” I say, throwing up my hands in frustration.
“Then maybe you should try and figure out a way you can help her, by using your brains and not your anger,” she suggests. “Because, unfortunately, that’s not my jurisdiction, so my hands are tied. And believe me, I know how you feel. It sucks when things happen and there’s nothing we can do about it within the law. But sooner or later, karma comes back to get everyone, even the Dirty Aces. That’s one good thing about MCs like the Savage Kings. They operate outside the law, serving as a sort of checks and balance to handle the real bad guys when law enforcement can’t touch them.”
“Who are the Savage Kings?” I ask curiously.
“A group of guys in a local motorcycle club that originated here in Emerald Isle. They run things out of the Savage Asylum, a bar near the pier.”
“Are they a bunch of assholes too?” I huff.
“Sometimes,” she says with a grin. “My step-brothers are the president and vice-president.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” the sheriff says with a wave of her hand. “I wish I could help you, Cedric, really I do. If you ever see those guys here in town breaking the law, call me and I’ll come arrest them myself for breaking and entering your home.”
“Okay, I will,” I tell her
“Good luck, kid.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I mutter as I get up and walk out of her office, feeling defeated.
I’m not stupid. I know I can’t drive to Carolina Beach and just throw Evelyn into my car and bring her bac
k. If she hadn’t wanted to go with the dickhead, she wouldn’t have last night.
No, the only way to pry her out of his claws is to figure out a way to solve her real problem – having enough money to take care of her mother Rita.
So, for now, I’ll find Evelyn to make sure she’s okay; and if so, I’ll have no choice but to keep my distance until I have a better long-term plan than getting myself killed or cutting off the financial support she’s depending on from this asshole Lowell.
I’m almost out the door before another thought hits me. “Hey, Sheriff?” I ask when I turn back to face her.
“Yeah?”
“What’s a legal way to make a lot of money fast?” I ask.
“Investments,” she says without even having to think about it.
“Investments? Like in business or real estate?”
“Exactly,” she responds.
“But don’t you need a lot of money to invest?”
“Usually, yes, but not necessarily if you know the right people,” she explains. “You seem like a smart kid, Cedric. Did you just graduate from high school?”
“Yeah.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe you should go down to the Savage Asylum and talk to the Kings. They’re good guys. Mostly. They’re fiercely protective of the people they love, and they own several very lucrative businesses. The Savage Kings may be a good fit for you.”
“What do you mean a good fit for me?” I ask in confusion. “Like I should join them or something?”
“I, a sworn officer of the law, would never condone the MC officially. I just think the situation you’re in, the one your friend is in, may call for…alternative solutions. The Kings don’t trust easily. It takes years to earn their respect and loyalty. But once you have it, they take care of their own for life.”
I consider the sheriff’s words a moment before a realization dawns on me. She’s trying to tell me that if law enforcement can’t stop that fucker Lowell, then it’s probably going to take fighting fire with fire. I wonder if the Savage Kings MC have any flame throwers, because I’m probably going to need a lot of fire power to take on a group like this.
Chapter Four
Evelyn
Staring down at my left hand, I still can’t believe what I’ve done. But the black spade surrounded by a solid black band of ink is proof that I went through with it.
I’m married.
Of course Lowell couldn’t do things the old-fashioned way with a gold wedding band. He wanted us to both get tattoo rings that are permanent and can never be removed. Well, never be removed except by a laser. The fact that I’m already considering having the unsightly design erased just goes to show I wasn’t ready for this – not for marriage and certainly not Lowell as my husband.
But now it’s official. We got married on the Dirty Aces gambling cruise ship at sunset. I can’t imagine any way in which it could have been tackier or more symbolic of what I’ve gotten myself into.
I’ve made a huge gamble by being with Lowell. As the sun sets, I say goodbye to the life I had before and embrace my new one where my mother won’t have to worry about paying for the medical care she needs ever again.
Hopefully.
The one small triumph for myself that Lowell doesn’t know about is that I married him in the same white dress that Cedric took off of me last night before he made love to me. That’s one memory Lowell will never be able to take away from me. And I still have my seashell bracelet on my left wrist, a reminder of the day Cedric and I met when we were just kids, before he became my best friend.
I already miss him like crazy, and I’ve only gone a few hours without being able to talk to him or see him. He’s called and texted. That I know for sure because Lowell has my phone, and he growls every time he reads the screen. I’m honestly surprised that he hasn’t tossed it in the ocean yet. Guess he should’ve told Cedric not to call me too when he was beating the shit out of him, warning him to stay away from me and threatening to kill him if he tried.
No matter how much I want to see Cedric, I hope he doesn’t try to find me and end up getting himself hurt again. While Lowell may be a demanding jackass, taking whatever he wants from me whenever he wants it without bothering to ask, he hasn’t ever hurt me. But I have no doubt that he’ll kill Cedric out of some insecure masculine bullshit.
“Where the fuck did you go?” Lowell asks when he jerks on the handful of my long hair he’s holding at the back of my head and jerks my face around so that I’m looking at him. It’s hard to pretend he’s Cedric when he’s so rough with me or when he makes me look at his face when his cock is being shoved deep inside of me. On my hands and knees staring down at the tattoo on my hand, it was much easier to imagine the man behind me was someone else.
“I’m here. I’m right here,” I assure him.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, like the self-conscious man he is.
“You,” I lie. “How generous you are and how lucky I am to be yours.”
“Then why can’t I hear you being grateful for me and my dick?”
“I-I’ll try harder,” I promise him. I’m relieved when he lets my hair go and pulls his cock out of me with a grunt. Watching him over my shoulder, he climbs off the bed naked and strolls over to the bathroom, coming back a moment later with something in his clenched fists.
“Open your mouth,” he demands. When I do, he places a yellow pill on my tongue and then slams my jaw closed so that I have to swallow whatever drug he just gave me. I’m certain it wasn’t a multivitamin or some other over-the-counter pill.
When he lets me open my mouth again, I ask, “What was that?”
“Just a little X to help you enjoy yourself,” he says before he mounts me again.
And gradually, while Lowell has his way with me, I do start to relax as a comforting sensation wraps around me, like being in Cedric’s arms again. It’s how I felt when he kissed me and touched me, warming me up from the depths of my soul.
Happiness.
No, it’s more than happiness.
I’m truly euphoric for only the second time in my life.
Chapter Five
Cedric
It took me several months of hanging around the Savage Asylum, watching and waiting before Reece and Maddox finally said I had made the cut to potentially prospect with the Savage Kings MC. Potentially being the keyword.
The sheriff wasn’t lying. These guys don’t trust lightly, and I can’t say I blame them. But there’s a major difference I’ve noticed between the Kings and the Aces – the Kings are legit badasses on the east coast, with a ton of businesses and charters, while the Aces seem…shady.
Whenever I’m not at the Kings’ bar, I’ve been in Carolina Beach, watching the Dirty Aces’ clubhouse. At least, I assume it’s where they hang out, and it’s right below the apartment where Evelyn and Lowell are living. She hardly leaves the building; and when she does, it’s to go see her mother, who lives in an apartment nearby. And that asshole is always with her. At least Ev doesn’t look like she’s been physically hurt, at least not as far as I can tell, since I’ve had to keep my distance. She does seem tired and sad, which I fucking hate to see.
It didn’t take a detective to find their marriage license at the county register of deeds a few weeks after the night he took her from my house. I wanted to throw up after I saw it typed in black and white, but what’s done is done.
I watch and wait from my car one Sunday afternoon for Evelyn and Lowell to leave her mother Rita’s apartment. As soon as they ride off on his crotch rocket down the street, I grab my gift for Rita from the passenger seat and finally climb out of my car to jog over to the first-floor apartment. I’ve strolled up and down the hallways before today with a hoodie covering most of my face, looking for security cameras, but so far, I haven’t seen a single one. Already, I know one thing for certain – Lowell is sloppy and careless.
After a quick knock on the door, Rita answers in her long housecoat and
purple slippers, her dark hair cut short nowadays because she probably doesn’t have the energy to fool with it.
“Cedric?” Her jaw drops in in surprise. Her skin has a yellowish hue and her face looks like it’s aged years in the span of a few brutal months because of her failing kidneys.
“Hey, sorry to just drop by…”
“What? No! Come in, come in!” she urges, shuffling her feet backward to let me in. “You just missed Evelyn! I know she would’ve loved to see you.”
Yeah, but her husband definitely wouldn’t have loved seeing me. He seems like the type who takes great joy in hurting others. In a way, I think I get his protectiveness. Sort of. If Evelyn was my wife, I would be jealous of every man who looks at her because she’s so damn beautiful.
“Actually, could you maybe not tell Ev I stopped by?” I ask as I follow Rita into the living room where she has a romantic comedy paused on the flat screen.
“But, why wouldn’t I tell her?” she asks when she takes a seat in her plush recliner and I lower myself onto the edge of the sofa.
“Evelyn’s, ah, husband doesn’t like me and doesn’t want me talking to her now that they’re…married,” I explain.
The words husband and married taste grittier than sand in my mouth. Fuck, I hate saying that shit aloud, making it even more real than the court document.
“How could Lowell not like you? You’re the sweetest boy I know!”
And there’s that goddamn word that I hate yet again – sweet.
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “I don’t want to cause Evelyn any problems,” I say, when what I mean is that I don’t want to die at the young age of eighteen. My parents would be devastated. “But is it okay if I come by to see you maybe every few weeks?” I ask Rita. I hold up my offering, “I brought you your favorite – strawberry cheesecake.”
Not only is Carolina Beach too far a drive for me to keep making every single day, but I’m not sure if I can keep seeing Evelyn from afar knowing I can’t touch her or talk to her. And even worse, having to see her with him, knowing he does both of those things whenever the hell he wants.