by Esme Beal
“I eat in a lot of diners like this. Just small, family-owned places that serve simple, quality food.”
“There’s a lot of places in Snow Falls like that.”
“I don’t think I’ll stick around long enough to see all of them.”
“Right…”
I didn’t think much of what he said. But there was a feeling in my chest that I couldn’t help. A bit of sadness like I was sorry he was leaving after this was all done.
What are you thinking, Spencer?
I chuckled softly to myself then shook the thoughts out of my head.
“What’s so funny?” he said.
“Nothing. I… I was just thinking…”
Now that most of the important business was out of the way, I figured I had to address the elephant in the room.
“I remember everything,” I said. “From last night.”
“That’s impressive, considering how drunk you were.”
“I was drunk,” I said with another laugh. “But not as drunk as you think I was. I remember… everything.”
I looked into Marshall’s eyes, hoping that he would realize what I was getting at. I didn’t want to mention the moment we shared in the alley out loud. Just looking into his eyes and thinking about it was enough to make me blush.
“Do you regret anything?” he said.
“No,” I said as I shook my head softly. “I never regret anything like that. I’m a grown man.”
“Then we’re in agreement. That doesn’t have to be anything more than what it was.”
“Right. The only regret I have right now is not being there for Amy. That’s more important than anything.”
“Don’t worry, Spencer. We’ll go to the police station to look at all the patches then we’ll head to the Croc Pit to get this settled. If they’re in Snow Falls, they’ll get what’s coming to them.”
“You seem like a man of your word.”
“I am. I’ve been in foreign situations before. Snow Falls isn’t any different.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
He gave me a nod and went back to sipping on his coffee peacefully.
I went back to work on my hearty breakfast. The sense of anticipation I had for the Croc Pit was boiling in my stomach. I was one step closer to Amy. Nothing was going to stop me from seeing her again.
Chapter 7
MARSHALL
A couple of hours at the police station was more than I wanted to spend but I had to take every lead I could if I wanted to figure this thing out. Spencer and I worked together to sort through all of the information the police department. It seemed like every biker club was on record. There were so many clubs that I knew Spencer was getting overwhelmed.
I didn’t wanna give him any more trouble than he needed. We left the police station as soon as we got the chance and headed to our next destination. It was still the middle of the day but time was running out. I had to make every second count.
We arrived at the Croc Pit and I immediately knew it was the kind of place where I could get some information. All of the choppers parked out front told me that it was the right kind of crowd. I parked my ride right along with the others and got off. I took a few steps toward the Pit and realized that Spencer hadn’t moved from his spot.
“You all right?” I said.
“I’m fine. It’s just…”
The dejection in his voice was obvious. He looked down at the ground and shook his head.
“…I’m sorry,” he said.
“You’re sorry. For what?”
“I… Dammit, I should’ve recognized the patch but none of them looked like it.”
“Hey.”
I put a hand on his shoulder to help him focus.
“You can’t be mad at yourself over something like that,” I said. “It’s just like you said. Every gang patch looks the same. It’s hard to tell one club from the next. There were hundreds in that database. And there’s no telling if the punks we’re looking for are even in it.”
“I just… I’ll know it when I see it. I’m—”
“You’re mad. You’re angry. You’re frustrated. But right now you need to focus. It doesn’t matter if you recognize the patch. Somebody in that bar right there knows who we’re looking for. We have to work together on this. Just like you said.”
He looked up at me. It was a bit of a relief to see the smirk on his face.
“You’re right,” he said as he shook his head. “Let’s go talk to these people. We’ll get the information on Amy, one way or another.”
“Just try not to get me into too much trouble.”
“I think you can handle it.”
He patted me on the arm and walked toward the Croc Pit with a renewed confidence that would make you surprised he was even pissed off in the first place. It was enough to make me confident just the same. And as soon as I stepped into the bar, I realized that I was gonna need all of the confidence I had to deal with these punks.
A haze of cigar and cigarette smoke filled the air. The floor, the bar, the walls all smelled like they’d been doused in liquor. It was so dark in the room without a single beam of sunlight shining in through the windows.
If the atmosphere wasn’t enough, the crowd itself was threatening. The men all wore leather vests with the patches to show their club affiliations. Long, dirty hair. Unshaved faces. Tattoos from wrist to neck. Dusty boots that looked like they’d been on the road for days at a time. These were the kinda men who bragged about all the deeds they’d done and got away with. The women at their sides seemed to enjoy them just the same, listening and giggling with big smiles on their faces as they told their boisterous stories.
“Great,” Spencer muttered. “Everybody in this damn room is a suspect.”
“Then it looks like we’ll have to deal with them one by one.”
The dozens of bikers were all scattered around the bar. A few of them were beginning to eyeball Spencer and me but they didn’t look like they were about to do anything.
“Look around,” I said. “Try not to draw too much attention to yourself.”
“I think it’s already too late for that.”
“Mind your own business. Look at the patches. See if anything rings a bell. Don’t engage with any of these people.”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it. You think I want to deal with any of these punks?”
“I’ll be at the bar. I’ll talk to the bartender and see if he knows anything. I’m here if you need me.”
I gave him a smile to reassure him. Spencer smirked back at me. He was still as headstrong as ever. Even though I’d only just met him less than a day ago, I already got the sense that he was capable of taking care of himself.
Spencer started walking around the bar, nonchalantly observing the crowd. I headed to an empty spot at the bar and waited until the bartender finally gave me some attention.
“What are you havin’?” the scruffy old bartender said.
“Not drinking tonight.”
“No room in this place for people who ain’t drinkin’. Get the fuck out—”
“Fine,” I grumbled. “Gimme a beer.”
The bartender eyeballed me as he pulled up a bottle from underneath the counter. He kept his eyes locked on me as he popped the cap off.
“Not from around here,” he said as he shoved the bottle in front of me.
“What makes you say that?”
“Besides that look on your face? I know everybody who walks through that door.”
“I was just looking for a place to spend my free time.”
“People don’t spend their free time in the Croc Pit.”
“Is that right? And what do they do here?”
He narrowed his gaze at me. I smiled back at him, not bothering to hide my intentions. Everybody in this place had information. The bartender wasn’t an exception.
“You a cop?” he said.
“If I was a cop, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to come to a place like this all by myself.”
“Don’t make you a genius either.”
“I’m looking for information.”
“Information, huh? Of course. And what kind of information are you looking for, friend?”
“You hear about the abduction? Little girl in the papers got taken from the shelter on Broadway.”
“Heard about it. Anybody with ears knows about that.”
“The ones responsible for that might be right here in this bar.”
“How do you figure?”
“It was a biker club who did it.”
“Hmm… Interestin’ theory. Lemme give you a bit of free advice…”
He leaned forward and spoke to me like he didn’t want anybody else to hear even though it was already so damn loud in the place.
“…Don’t go barkin’ up the wrong tree. Might be the last thing you ever do.”
I’d heard it all before. All of the threats and intimidation and warnings never stopped me before. It wasn’t about to stop me now.
“What do you know?”
I said it as bluntly as I could. The bartender looked at me, the corner of his lips curling into a smirk. His belly jiggled when he started to chuckle.
“I don’t know anythin’,” he said as he shook his head. “And if you knew anythin’, you’d stop askin’ so many questions.”
The bartender left me before I could question him any further. There was nothing I could do to get him to stop. When guys were too scared, nothing short of a gun to their head could get them to say anything.
I held back my frustration and took a sip of my beer.
I looked at the man next to me. Long, messy hair. Beard was the same. I could smell all the smoke and dirt on his leather vest. He looked just as much of a suspect as anybody else in the room.
I looked him up and down then turned my attention back to my beer. It was already too late though.
“You need some help?” he said.
“Nah,” I replied. “I don’t need any help.”
“Are you sure about that? Because you’re looking at me like I can help you out.”
“You can’t help me out.”
“What’s wrong? You don’t think I’m good enough to help you out?”
The biker was with two of his friends and I’d gotten the attention from the both of them.
Great.
I sighed softly through my nose and took another sip of beer. I could deal with a man like him. His friends, too. It wasn’t anything new to me. The problem was I hadn’t even begun questioning anybody when it looked like I was already gonna have to step outside.
“You just gonna stand there and ignore me?” the man said.
“Yes,” I said as I scanned the crowd for Spencer. “I’m just gonna stand here and mind my own business.”
“It’s too late for that. You’re already in my business.”
I wasn’t paying much attention to him when I noticed Spencer. His eyes were wide as he pushed his way through everybody to get to me.
“It’s him,” he whispered in my ear. “It’s one of them anyway.”
“What? Where?”
“Over there.”
Spencer looked in the direction near the entrance to the club.
“That guy. Standing by himself.”
There was a lone biker leaning up against the wall. His beard was thick. His long hair covered most of his face, so I couldn’t get a clear look at him.
“Are you sure?” I said.
“I’m sure. His patch… I remember it clearly now. He’s one of the guys.”
I dropped my beer on the bar and took a step toward the stranger at the entrance. As soon as I did, I felt a hand on my arm.
“Hey!” the man standing next to me was still there even though I’d forgotten him. “Where do you think you’re goin’? I’m not done talkin’ to you.”
I defiantly pulled my arm free from him.
“Not now,” I said.
I gritted my teeth and looked away from him.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” the man barked.
He was so loud that it started to get some attention from everybody else in the bar. Including the stranger next to the entrance. He raised his head up. Through his messy hair, I was able to look him right in the eye. Even from a distance, he knew that I was looking right at him. As soon as he spotted me, he headed for the exit and left the bar.
“Marshall!” Spencer said. “He’s getting away!”
“Shit,” I muttered.
I walked forward and the big biker next to me put his arms on me.
“Let him go!” Spencer shouted.
Spencer jumped on the man’s arms and pulled him off of me. The man responded by slugging Spencer right in the gut, crumpling him onto the floor.
“Stupid Omega,” he muttered.
I took a knee down next to Spencer.
“Are you all right?” I said.
His mouth hung open as he tried to catch his breath.
“Go… Before… Before he gets away,” he gasped.
I stopped thinking. I jumped back up to my feet and pushed my way through the crowd. As soon as I got outside, there was no sign of him. There was only the sound of exhaust in the distance but I couldn’t tell which direction it was.
“Dammit…”
Before I could let my frustration get the best of me, the door suddenly boomed open behind me. Spencer stumbled out and fell back onto his knees.
“Spencer!”
I helped him up from the ground. Just as I got him back up to his feet, the biker who had a problem with me and his two friends stepped out. Some of the other men and women who’d been watching the whole time came out with big smiles on their faces like they were ready to enjoy a show.
“I don’t like it when strangers come to the Pit and start disrespecting me,” he said.
“Fine. I’ll leave right now.”
“Oh, no. I can’t let you just walk away. Not until you’ve learned your lesson. It’s time for you to show some respect!”
He swung at me without warning. But he was so slow that I was able to move out of the way. I countered with a hard right hand into his stomach. It was enough to make him fall down to one knee.
“Marshall! Look out!”
Spencer’s warning was followed by the other two men collapsing on me. I moved back just before they could tackle me. Another right hand slammed into one of their faces and sent him reeling backward. I ignored the chants and cheers of the crowd gathering around me.
The last man standing, his eyes red and his face full of anger, charged at me. I cracked him right on the side of the head and he slumped on the floor in a heap.
“Listen here,” the punk on one knee said as he pointed his index finger at me. “I’m not through with you—”
He suddenly popped up to his feet and wrapped his arms around me. I went flying through the air until landing on my back with him on top of me, a hard thud ringing in my head.
“Marshall!”
The crowd cheered but it was lost on me. The wind had been knocked out of me and my head was in a daze.
“Now I got you where I want you, motherfucker!”
The punk on top of me slammed a fist right into my temple. My eyes rolled back in my head. I could feel the blood trickling on my face.
“Marshall!”
Spencer’s voice brought me back to my senses.
I can’t… Not today…
I regained my composure just in time to see the large fist headed right at me. I rolled my head out of the way and it slammed into the pavement underneath me. The big biker howled in pain. It was the second I needed to push him off of me.
One last hard right hand across his chin put an end to the commotion for good.
“All right, all right, all right! That’s enough!”
The bartender stepped through the crowd that had gathered and put his hands up.
“You’ve had your fun,” the bartender said. “Everybody back inside and back to drinkin�
�. And you… You’d best be on your way.”
I couldn’t argue with him. I just stood there and watched as everybody else headed back into the Croc Pit.
“I guess we won’t be questioning anybody else in there,” I sighed.
“Marshall…”
I turned toward the only man in the parking lot standing with me. Spencer put his hand up to my cheek and caressed the side of my face.
“You’re bleeding,” he said.
“Not the first time.”
“Come on. We should go take care of that.”
“I don’t have much time to bleed. That punk got away.”
“It’s okay. I know who it is.”
“You do?”
“I couldn’t remember the patch before. But I remembered it as soon as I saw it, clear as day.”
“Then who—”
“The Bleeding Hearts. I’m sure of it. They’re the ones who took Amy.”
Chapter 8
SPENCER
“You’re lucky.”
“Lucky? If this is lucky, I don’t want to see what un-lucky is.”
“Funny. It’s a good thing you kept your sense of humor about all of this. Still, you’re fortunate that you won’t need any stitches for this. Especially for a nasty blow to the head. You might want to head to the hospital to check for anything worse.”
“I’m fine—”
“But… I’m sure you don’t have time for something like that.”
“Thanks for understanding.”
Marshall gave Noah a wink.
Noah wiped away the blood from the wound and bandaged it. He had the kind of delicate touch you would expect from an Omega who spent most of his time volunteering at a homeless shelter. People could say whatever they wanted to about Snow Falls and the Southern Block but I knew Noah was one person I could always trust.
“How is he doing?” I said.
“He’ll be fine,” Noah said. “The wound should heal up nicely in a few days.”
“That’s good to hear,” I sighed. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a brand new man,” Marshall said.
I leaned up against the wall and stared at Marshall. Despite everything that happened, he was still smiling at me like nothing was wrong. It was the kind of reassurance I needed at the moment. I chuckled softly to myself and put my head down.