by Eve R. Hart
The thing that bothered me was what was it exactly we were missing. With there being sealed police reports and all the moving, something wasn’t adding up.
“Okay.”
As he spoke I saw him pulling up blueprints for a building. How the fuck he could do all this and so quickly, was beyond my comprehension, but I was fucking thankful for it.
He spouted off an address on the other side of town. As he did so, he pointed out what floor the apartment was on the blueprints and where it was located on that floor. Then he brought up the layout of the apartment. I pulled out my phone and took a screenshot just in case we might need it when we got there.
It was a simple floor plan. Kitchen, living room-slash-dining room area, a bedroom, and a bathroom.
Then my feet were moving. I was half tempted to jump over the balcony rail to get to my bike faster. Feet pounded on the cement stairs behind me with the same sense of urgency I had.
“Ky,” I barked as I mounted my bike. “Tell Iron. Then meet us over there. Grab who you can to follow you.”
He nodded, his feet already moving in the direction of the common area before I even finished shouting my order. I looked over at Brass and saw the same emotions filling his face that I had in mine.
“My little girl,” he said with a strained sigh.
“My love,” I said with the same understanding of how much she meant to him.
He gave me a nod and we were off, with me leading the way. Brass, B-ry, and I sped through town, making it in a third of the time it would have normally taken.
I hopped off my bike and pulled my gun from the back of my waistband. I checked the clip as Brass and B-ry did the same.
Forgoing the elevator because I was sure I could make it up the stairs faster, I ran like hell, skipping every other step. At the door to the seventh floor, I scanned the area. There wasn’t a soul around and I felt an eerie shutter make its way through my body. I walked as calmly and quietly to the door as possible. I was a big guy, but I knew how to make my steps light when needed.
With my ear against the door, I listened for any signs of life. It was quiet. Too fucking quiet.
They weren’t there. I could feel it in my gut. This was a fucking dead end.
I looked over at Brass and shook my head with a jerk. Then I kicked the door in without a second thought. Guns raised, we cleared every room in the apartment in the matter of a couple of minutes. I was right. It was empty.
“No!” I roared as I grabbed the closest thing, which happened to be a huge glass vase, and threw it against the wall. “Fuck!” I yelled as I pushed over a skinny bookshelf that held a bunch of cheap knickknacks. I knew the commotion wouldn’t go unnoticed and I wouldn’t deny that it was foolish and stupid.
I wasn’t proud of how I acted but I had to get the frustration out somehow. I felt fucking helpless right then.
Brass’ heavy hand landed on my shoulder, then he was pulling me in for a tight hug. I didn’t resist even a little as I wrapped my arms around his big frame. We needed each other’s strength right then, and there I was, falling the fuck apart.
“Guys,” B-ry called out from the bedroom just as Ky, Mouse, Lake, and a bunch of other brothers filed in through the broken door.
I straightened and headed to the bedroom.
“Look at this,” B-ry said tossing a bunch of pictures on the bed.
I saw him thumbing through some sort of journal as I moved to pick up a handful of the pictures. Ones of Gwen.
It was like I was living in some sort of stalker-serial killer movie. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been. There was no way that I missed all of this—that we all fucking had.
Pictures of Gwen taken from strange angles. It was obvious the shots had been taken without Gwen’s knowledge.
“Christ,” Mouse said as he held out a handful of darker photos. “Isn’t this from that night…” His words trailed off as I snatched one out of his hand.
It was obvious it was that night because Gwen was still wearing more makeup than normal and her hair was done up the same way it had been when she stormed out of the apartment. The night that Tara and Gwen went out. The night Gwen came home completely fucked up. Gwen was passed out on her bed, her clothes gone, only her bra and thong covering her, and her unconscious body sprawled out on top of the comforter.
It all clicked into place. The next morning she’d been wrapped up tight in the blankets, I couldn’t see anything but the top of her head. I wondered why she hadn’t said anything. But then again, she was too busy pushing me away. Telling me how much I’d hurt her. Explaining to me how our friendship would never work. I knew her well enough to know that she probably blamed herself, even if she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten that way.
The pictures slipped from my fingers as I folded over, my hands landing on my knees. I dry heaved, the feeling of whatever I had in my stomach trying its best to force itself up my throat.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brass’ boots make their way to where I was. The last thing he needed was to see those, to see his little girl like that.
“No. Don’t.” I straightened too fast and my head felt dizzy. Without taking a moment to regain myself, I pushed my body in front of his to stop him. My hand landed on his chest, firm but not pushing. “Don’t.” My soft tone conveyed all the things I couldn’t say.
Rage filled his eyes as his face turned bright red. He didn’t have to see them to understand that it was really fucking bad.
“Go through everything,” I growled. “Turn this place inside out. There has to be something—some fucking clue as to where she took Gwen.”
They all scattered. I knew we had to work quickly because there was a small chance that one of the neighbors had called the cops upon hearing all the commotion. And I couldn’t even take a chance that we would be lucky enough to get Connor on this call.
Shit.
Maybe I should call him in on this.
I knew I’d have to run it by Iron and it just wasn’t something I could stop and do right then. Every second counted and all I could think was that there had to be something here to give us a clue.
My shaky hand tore open drawers and rifled through clothes not giving a fuck what kind of mess I was leaving in my wake. There had to be at least ten of us here and if there was a clue or an answer, we were going to find it.
“There are pages and pages written in here,” B-ry said and I didn’t have to turn my head to know that he was still looking at the journal. “Everything little thing is like…documented. This is fucking sick.”
I couldn’t agree with him more. It was, and now my Gwen was paying the price. I almost asked what it specifically said but as I thought better of it, I kept my mouth closed and kept moving along. If I knew what was in there I might break. If it said anything about the things she planned to do to Gwen, I just might fucking lose it.
I heard him thumb through the pages at a fast rate and I knew he’d given up on reading it in detail. It must have been that bad. Then the heavy thump of it hitting the desk next to him signaled that he hadn’t found anything.
“Hey,” Lake called making my head whip in his direction. “Look at this.”
He handed over a photo from the massive pile on the bed. I don’t know how he stomached looking through all that shit. I grabbed it with much hesitation because I wasn’t sure if I could handle seeing what he might have found.
“There’s more.” He continued to pass them on after he’d gotten a good look at them.
Each picture was of a different angle of some abandoned building. Only it was all shots of the inside of the place. My eyes squinted, trying to pull something out of them that would give me a clue as to where it was. These pictures were void of Gwen, which made me think that they had to have been taken with purpose.
The photos had a darkness to them, making it hard to make out anything in the background. They were the kind of shots that could have been called art and lined the walls in some gallery. They
oddly captured the depressed, abandoned building perfectly. If I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn they were taken by someone who knew what they were doing, and not some psychopath scoping out a place to bring their sick fantasies to life.
“Hold up,” Sketch said in my ear, his head practically resting on my shoulder. His hand moved around me to snatch one of the pictures I’d been holding.
“You know this?” I asked, my tone short and I hoped he understood that my anger and frustration wasn’t aimed at him.
“Murphy’s church,” he mumbled as he grabbed the stack of photos out of my hand and flipped through them. “I used to crash there from time to time.” His face held a dark, lost look as he talked.
I knew Sketch had been in and out of foster care in his youth. Some of those times while he was out, he lived on the streets. That was about as much as my knowledge of his past went but it didn’t really surprise me that he knew the place given his background.
“Down off of Seventh Street, behind that old school that’s been half demolished.” He was moving out of the room before he even finished spouting out the words.
I was vaguely aware of where he was talking about. Before we had our set up, I’d spent many hours driving the streets of this city trying to find a place for the club. The state of the school was something that wasn’t easily forgotten.
The only thing was, it was back on the other side of town. It was closer to the compound than where we were.
“I’ll call, Iron,” Fitz called out, stepping away from the doorway. I gave him an appreciative head jerk as I flew past him.
We filed out of the apartment with lightning speed. Once outside, I scanned the area. I didn’t see lights or hear sirens in the distance and I looked up and thanked my lucky stars for a fraction of a second before I hopped on my bike.
“Knight,” Brass called just before I took off. “This isn’t on you.” His eyes pinned me to make his point. I didn’t agree with him, but appreciated the words anyway. “Head in the fucking game. We are going to get her back.”
With that, he took off and I fell into line behind him. Sketch led the way because he knew exactly where the fuck we were going.
I just prayed we weren’t too late.
I needed hope.
I needed to see her smile again.
I needed to hear her tell me she was okay.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Gwen
I swore I heard the faint, distant sound of motorcycle engines, but I was so disoriented that I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or not.
I closed my eyes and hoped it would be over soon.
“Oh, look at that!” she squealed with delight. “I didn’t even have to send him a picture. Well, sorry about all that, Gwenie. Please forgive me.”
I heard the telltale sound of duct tape and a moment later, I felt the cold strip press firmly against my mouth.
“Shhh. Not a word. We wouldn’t want to kill the surprise, right?”
Her evil giggle rang out and I tried my damnedest to fight the dizziness that was threatening to pull me under.
She retreated out of my line of sight and I wondered if she’d left the room altogether. I closed my eyes, forcing my ears to track any sort of movement, but the place had gone creepily quiet.
Fear shot up my spine. Every part of my body struggled against the duct tape that rendered me helpless. The hairs and skin ripped as I frantically moved around. The tape over my mouth dulled my scream to nothing more than a muffled moan.
That was when it hit me. The damn spring or whatever that had been poking me. I flopped about until I was sitting up. With awkward movements, I twisted around so I could see what and where it was.
Oh, thank God.
It had been a spring and I could see the pointed end jutting out. I dove for it, turning in the process. I did my best to hold it still with the tips of my fingers as I worked the tape back and forth against the sharp end. I had no idea if I was getting anywhere until I felt one end tear and become loose. I worked faster and before I knew it, I was able to rip my wrists free.
I figured since I was able to do such a thing that Tara must have left the room. I scanned the area just to be sure and when I didn’t see anything, I moved to release my ankles. Taking in a deep breath and holding it in, I rolled my lips between my teeth as much as I could and pulled at the tape over my mouth with a quick jerk. It was all I could do to trap the scream of pain in my throat.
“Gwen,” Sketch’s voice whispered from somewhere behind me. Since I’d only seen Tara come in and out through the one entrance, I had no idea how he’d gotten in here. Not that I gave a crap right then. He was there and I wasn’t sure if I felt relieved or terrified. We still weren’t safe and he had no idea about her plans. “Where the fuck is she?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered, my eyes scanning the room frantically. “Where is Knight? She’s going to kill him. We have to save him.”
“Shit,” he whispered harshly as his eyes raked over my battered body. He pulled off his cut and then his t-shirt. Before I knew it, he was sliding his shirt over my head. “He’s going to skin her when he sees what she did to you. I wouldn’t worry, if I were you. Come on, we have to get out of here.”
He whipped out his phone after he put his cut back on. His eyes barely looked at the screen as he typed something out. I guessed he was letting someone know he’d found me.
“No, I’m not leaving him. And my dad. And the brothers. I can’t just leave. I have to save them.” I all but begged even though I knew it was pointless as well as stupid.
“Gwen,” he said in a tone that was not one to argue with. “Your ankles are bleeding. Can you walk?”
“I think so,” I said as I pushed my way to stand. Everything was sore and stiff but other than that, I could function.
“Baby,” Knight’s voice called out just as he rounded the corner into the room. “Fuck!” he roared the moment he laid eyes on me.
Then his feet were carrying him to me with lightning speed and I all but fell into his arms the second he was close enough. I breathed in his scent feeling safe as it wrapped around me.
I saw a flash of movement over his shoulder. Wild eyes and blonde hair sprinted towards Knight and I couldn’t even open my mouth to get the words out to warn him. With all my strength, I pushed him to the side. He stumbled out of the way right as the knife she was wielding sliced down, narrowly missing his shoulder.
Before I could blink, Knight and Sketch had their guns trained on her.
“Wait. Don’t!” I screamed.
Mouse came out of nowhere and took her down to the ground, rendering her helpless as he yanked the knife out of her hand and tossed it across the room.
“Gwen?” Knight asked, his voice vibrating with anger.
“She needs help, Knight,” I said honestly.
Did I want her dead for what she’d put us all through? Yes, maybe a little. But I also knew that I didn’t want any of this on their shoulders, especially Knight’s.
“What she did was wrong and insane, don’t get me wrong. But she’s sick and I have to believe that there is something that can be done. This can’t be the end for her.”
For some reason that I couldn’t begin to explain, it meant a lot to me that she got the help that she obviously needed. Sure, I was mad and hurt and a million other emotions, but I couldn’t stand by and let it end like this.
My dad came barreling into the room and in a split second, I was crushed against his chest. I held on to him for a long while until he was ready to pull away, which he did with reluctance, I could tell.
“You okay?” His gruff voice held a tinge of sadness.
“I’m fine,” I assured him. “Just a little sore.”
“Let’s get you to the hospital.”
I didn’t want to go to the hospital but I also knew it was pointless to fight it.
“What about her?” my dad asked, looking directly at Knight.
“Gwen wants her
to get help. I’ll call someone.” He let out a frustrated sigh, clearly not agreeing with my request but giving in to it. “Connor. Yeah. Got a situation.”
Knight’s eyes didn’t leave mine as he carried on his conversation. It was clear that whoever he was talking to was someone that would be able to handle it from here on out. He hung up, his eyes shifting over to my dad’s as he gave him a chin jerk. I took that to mean it was done.
“Aww, Mouse, I’m flattered, really,” Tara’s voice filled the room making all of us turn to look at her. She was still currently pinned under Mouse and barely attempting to wiggle free. “But do you really think this is the time or place to get a hard-on? A little bit weird, if you ask me.”
“It’s my gun, you crazy bitch.” Mouse bit out, unamused. “Fucking hell. Prospect!” he called out and two guys I recognized, but wasn’t familiar with, stepped up and took over for Mouse.
He walked away shaking his head as he brushed himself off.
“Let’s go out front. Connor is sending an ambulance for you,” Knight said, pulling me into his arms and holding me with a gentle tightness. Like he didn’t want to let me go but he was trying his best not to hurt me.
“Wait,” I said as my steps halted. “My necklace.” I started to turn back to face Tara but Knight’s grip on me tightened.
“I’ll get it,” Sketch said from behind me.
I walked away, not giving Tara a single last look. I didn’t care if I ever saw her again. In fact, I hoped I never did. I might not be as forgiving in the future. I knew Knight wouldn’t be.
Knight didn’t let go of my hand as the paramedics looked me over then loaded me up, and the moment I was settled in, he leaned down and kissed me like I couldn’t believe. I felt everything in that kiss—how scared he’d been, how much he loved me, and how he wouldn’t ever let me go.
Dad hopped on his bike and I watched him out of the back window the entire ride to the hospital.
The doctors confirmed that nothing was broken, that I was really banged up and would heal in a week or so. I knew all of this and I bit my tongue at telling them ‘I told you so.’ I didn’t need to go to the hospital but I knew better than to argue with them.