by Brook Wilder
“Where.”
I told him the location. “The cops are crawling all over it right now.”
“Because of you,” Grant said to Sydney, narrowing his gaze. “Why the hell did you allow that to happen?”
“I know you don’t like the cops involved,” she replied evenly.
I was amazed at how she could keep her cool in front of him, a hint of pride flowing through my veins at her expression. She was a damn good cop.
“But I had to involve them. They can process the car and maybe pull some evidence.”
Grant looked over at me, blowing out a breath.
“Was there… was there anything in it?”
I glanced at Sydney, who gave me a small nod to share what we had seen.
“There were small amounts of blood in the driver seat. I can’t tell you if it’s hers or not.”
“Shit,” Grant swore, falling back in his seat. “She’s dead.”
“Now Grant,” Grayson said softly, laying a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. It doesn’t mean shit.”
“He’s right,” Sydney interjected. “Let us process the car.”
I watched as Grayson eyed Sydney, clearly not happy she was here or butting into the conversation. He wouldn’t say anything, probably already aware that Amy had reached out for Syd’s help, but he didn’t like it.
I didn’t like the way that made me feel.
“Double the efforts,” Grant finally said, waving a hand at us. “I don’t want any fucking stone unturned! I want Harley’s name on everyone’s lips and the merest hint of where she might be reported to me immediately.”
“I heard something,” Grayson said softly. “I was going to tell you before we were rudely interrupted.”
“What?” Grant said coldly. “What did you find out?”
I bristled. I didn’t know that Grayson was looking into the disappearance as well. I had thought that was a job specifically assigned to me.
Grayson gave me a look before his eyes moved to Sydney.
“Spit it out,” Grant demanded, impatient. “I’m waiting.”
“The cartel,” Grayson said carefully. “They have her.”
Well that wasn’t anything new.
“No shit,” Grant swore.
Grayson’s expression grew angry.
“They are holding her somewhere close. It’s a trap and they are hoping that you will come get her, so they can take their shot.”
Grant’s laugh was hollow.
“That’s never going to fucking happen. Where is this place?”
“Yeah where is it?” Sydney added, crossing her arms over her chest. “Give us something useful.”
Grayson’s eyes grew dark as he looked at Sydney, and I wanted to bash his face in for that look he was given her.
“Fuck off, cop. You shouldn’t even be here.”
“Just fucking tell us,” Grant interrupted. “Before I blow your head off.”
“I don’t know,” Grayson spit out. “But I know a kid. He knows exactly where she is.”
“Tell me his name,” I said softly, my voice laced with steel.
I was tired of the games. I wanted to find Harley and then sit down with Sydney, tell her that I did not shoot that gringo, and prove to her that I was more than just the biker she thought me to be.
“Jason,” Grayson said after a moment. “He’s at the bar on Southside. It’s where he does trafficking of drugs and shit for the cartel. If anyone knows, it would be him.”
“Let’s go,” Sydney said, turning her back to the two men as she caught my eye. “Time is wasting.”
“Find my fucking daughter,” Grant called after us as we exited the office, walking back through the clubhouse.
Hell, I wanted to find Harley, so I could end this.
“I’ll drive,” Sydney said as we walked to the truck.
I chuckled, giving her the eye as she reached out her hand for the keys.
“Are you serious?”
She pursed her lips.
“I’m not in the mood Zack. Give me the keys.”
“It’s my fucking truck.”
“Fine,” she stated, dropping her hand. “Then take me back to my jeep and I will go by myself.”
I took a step toward her, pissed off that she was treating this like nothing had happened between us.
“I thought we were going to do this together.”
She wouldn’t look at me.
“I… I can’t trust you Zack. Maybe you should back out and let the professionals handle this.”
I stared at her for a moment before grabbing her arm, ignoring her yelps as I walked over to the line of bikes that were in front of the clubhouse. Mine sat where I had left it.
“Get the hell on the bike Syd.”
She looked at me incredulously.
“What?”
“We are taking the bike,” I said, pulling out the small key.
“We are most certainly not taking the bike,” she answered as I slid the key into the ignition.
With a frustrated sigh, I trapped her against the bike, leaning in so she could see my eyes clearly.
“We are taking the bike. I’m tired of fucking around with you and this pulling rank shit. It’s time for me to do it my way, and if you want any piece of this, you will get on the bike.”
Her eyes narrowed, and I knew I had caught her attention. She was beyond pissed. Hell, she was turning me on with that look.
“I don’t like being bossed around.”
“I know,” I said with a hollow chuckle. I knew that all too well. “Get on the bike. I won’t say it again.”
She looked over at the bike and, with a curse, slung her leg over. I did the same, ignoring her touch as she grabbed at my waist immediately. I knew that Syd hated to ride motorcycles. In fact, she was scared to death of them, but I guess the thought of being left in the dust had gotten her on mine.
Cranking the engine, I let the bike run for a second, feeling her fingers grip my belt buckle tightly. I wanted to comfort her, but something in me held back. She thought I had shot someone, killed him, that could be directly tied back to her. She must have gotten an earful from her chief this morning. That was the only thing that would explain her odd behavior.
And the fact that she was believing him over me. Was this a red flag that we might not be able to co-exist after all was said and done? I wanted Sydney and had no thoughts of letting her go this time, but there was this big rift between us. I wouldn’t ask her to give up the force, and she was not the type of person to make me give up the club.
So where did that leave us? I was scared to ask. I couldn’t lose her again, not after the previous night. There was more to this than just having Sydney in my bed. There were feelings, feelings that hadn’t gone away from the first go-round, that were tied up in this mess as well. No matter what she thought of me, I knew she cared about me.
“Are we going to go?” Sydney shouted into my ear.
I shook out of my thoughts and backed the bike out of the tight spot, positioning it in the right direction.
“Hold on!” I yelled before I gunned it down the highway.
Her hands tightened on me, but I forced myself to think of other things, like finding Harley. Sydney, and whatever was going on with us, would have to take a back seat for now. I needed to find Grant’s daughter and soon. If the cartel really had her, every hour she was in their hands was another hour that they could torture her. I wouldn’t put it past them either.
So, this kid, this informant, better have some shit for me today. I was starting to lose my patience.
Chapter Fifteen
Sydney
I hated motorcycles.
My teeth chattered against each other, and there were tears in my eyes from the tearing wind, as Zack tore down the highway, far faster than he should. My hands were starting to ache from the death grip I had on him, but I knew it was hopeless to try and get him to slow down. I was terrified that he would
hit a bump and I would go flying off the back of the bike, or that when he turned I would fall off. Each scenario ended with me on the asphalt, and I didn’t like it.
That, and my life was in his hands. One wrong move and he could end it for us both, and after today I didn’t know if I should trust him completely.
Forcing myself not to press my face into his shirt, I thought about the one and only other time I had ridden a motorcycle with Zack.
***
I hurried down the sidewalk, looking back over my shoulder to make sure that my parents weren’t watching me from the window. This was the third time this week I had told them I was going to the library, under the impression that I needed to cram for my finals.
But in reality, I was meeting Zack yet again. I wasn’t the type to lie to my parents, but the mere thought of seeing him had butterflies dancing in my stomach. After the last few weeks, I was falling in love with him and it was a scary feeling. At some point, I would have to come clean to my parents about him and hope that they would understand.
I wasn’t quite sure how they would take him.
Turning the corner, I skidded to a stop. Instead of the truck I was used to seeing, Zack was leaning against a gleaming motorcycle.
“Hey babe.”
“What’s that?” I asked instead as I approached.
“It’s my bike,” he said casually, his grin causing my heart to flip over in my chest. “I thought you might like to go for a spin.”
My inner self sighed as I took in his handsome form, the way he wore a t-shirt and jeans like they were a second skin. I knew what that body looked like under his clothes, though we had yet to actually do the deed. I knew it wouldn’t be long. I had held him off for a month or more, but a guy like Zack… he wasn’t going to wait around forever for me to get over the fact that I would be losing my virginity.
I had thought about it far more lately than I should.
But back to the present. There was a motorcycle, and Zack wanted me to ride it with him.
“I-I can’t do that.”
His grin faded, and he pushed away from the bike.
“Why not?”
I stared at the death trap.
“Do you know how many people die each day on these things? There’s nothing to keep you from eating the road… or worse!”
His grin re-appeared, and he took my face in his hands, his skin warm against mine. I sighed in happiness as he brushed his lips over mine, a featherlight kiss that did nothing but rev up my body for what was to come later.
“Come on Syd. You know I would never let anything happen to you. I’m a damn good driver with this thing, and I won’t do anything stupid, I swear.”
“I know,” I said, searching his eyes. It was hard to believe that he was all mine. “B-but I can’t Zack. I’m sorry.”
He stepped back, dropping his hands.
“I tell you what. Let me take you just around the block. If you hate it, I will go get my truck and I will never ask you do this again.”
I bit my lip, staring at the gleaming chrome.
“Are you sure you won’t be mad if I don’t like it?”
He shook his head, reaching for the helmet that was hanging from the handle.
“Of course not. I just want to be with you, Syd.”
***
The bike slowed, and I shook out of the memory. True to his statement, he had taken me around the block, me beating on his back to take me back about one hundred yards into the ride. I had gotten off of his bike, swearing I would never do it again.
Yet here I was.
I couldn’t let him leave me, though. If this was truly a good lead, we could crack this case today. This could all be over.
Zack pulled into a parking lot and parked the bike, cutting the engine.
“See? That wasn’t so bad.”
I forced myself to peel my arms from around him.
“You really think I liked that?”
He chuckled, and I wanted to press my cheek to his strong back to feel it against my skin.
“No, but a man can always dream.”
I snorted and climbed off the bike, my legs still vibrating from the engine.
“I’m just glad it’s over.”
“You still have to get back, Syd.”
“I’ll call a cab.”
He shook his head and swung his long leg over the bike, standing before me. There was a grin on his face, and I desperately tried to fight returning it with one of my own. Inside I was torn up about the fact that he could be the man who had killed that Muertos. He hadn’t denied it, and I was scared for him. This was Zack, the guy I had loved more than anything in this entire world at one time. I shouldn’t even be questioning him for the killing, yet there was a nagging doubt that he could be that person. He wasn’t that man any longer. He was a Horseman, under the thumb of Grant Travis.
I had no bearing on him, even after last night.
A small piece of my heart withered and died as I turned from him, pretending to inspect the building before us.
“Are you sure this is the right place?”
“Yeah,” he said, walking past me. “Come on. Don’t say a word in here about you being a cop, Syd. I mean it.”
I wasn’t planning on it unless the situation warranted it.
I followed Zack toward the concrete building, noting the flashing lights that advertised the beer and liquors they served. I would give my right arm for a stiff drink right now, something to take the edge off and make me forget for a while.
After this case was solved, I was going on vacation. Especially if Zack was found to be part of that murder. I wouldn’t be able to deal with it.
The interior smelled of stale smoke and body odor, only a few people inside the dimly lit bar. There was some sort of soccer game on the TV behind the bar, with a tired-looking bartender wiping out his glasses in front of it. Zack walked right up to the bar, not even glancing at the rest of his surroundings.
“Where’s Jason?”
I tapped my fingers against my arm as I surveyed our surroundings for us, noting the exits and the number of people inside. The odds were in our favor.
A tall, skinny guy in the back stood, and I knew immediately that it was Jason.
“Got him,” I said under my breath as I started toward the back.
We locked eyes and he ran for the exit door, slamming into it and disappearing.
I swore and took off running, slamming into the door as well and finding myself outside. Not waiting for Zack, I drew my gun and crept around the building. The corner was a large blind spot, and if I wasn’t careful, I could be walking into a trap.
Easing alongside the building, I took in a breath and walked out, my gun out in front of me. Zack was there, with Jason jacked up against the building. The kid’s feet were dangling several feet in the air and I holstered my gun. There was an upside to having a muscle with me.
“Where’s Harley Travis?” he growled as the kid squirmed against his hold. “Your life depends on your answers.”
“I-I don’t know!” Jason wailed, clawing at Zack’s hands around his neck. “You’re hurting me!”
“Good,” Zack replied, his eyes on the informant. “Tell me what I need to know, and I might let you go.”
“Zack,” I warned as Jason’s face turned red.
Zack ignored me and before I knew it, he was slamming Jason against the wall, the kid’s head bouncing violently on the concrete brick.
“Tell me!” he shouted, as blood started to appear on the whitewashed wall behind Jason.
“Zack!” I shouted, laying a hand on his arm. “Let him go.”
“Fuck off,” Zack growled not looking at me and doing it again, Jason barely making a sound this time.
I was stunned. There was a wild look about him, reminding me of the last time I had seen him like this. Pulling my gun, I pointed it at his head, my heart tearing in two.
“You have to let him go, Zack.”
“Did you just p
ull a gun on me Syd?” he asked in a low voice.
“I did,” I said, my hand not shaking surprisingly. “Now let him go.”