‘Fuck yeahs’ and ‘bet your fucking ass we do’ fly around the table as brothers vocalise their agreement, and Grumbler cracks his knuckles.
“Right,” I step up. “Slick and I’ll go question the girlfriend. If Thompson is there we’ll bring him back. That means we both need trucks of some sort?” Snake nods to show he’s got that sorted. “If we find anythin’ else we’ll keep in touch.”
“We’ve got your ass, Brother. Soon as any of us know anythin’ we’ll share the news.” He assigns various brothers to accompany me and Slick, Mouse offers to go with Snake as Alex and the boy know him, then the prez picks up the gavel. “Anyone else got anythin’ they wanna say? Okay, brothers, get out of here and go do what ya got to do.”
As I walk out, Slick pulls me aside. “Wasn’t sure of the support we were gonna get here. Not after they sent Buster our way.”
That thought had occurred to me. Buster had transferred to the Tucson chapter and all but raped Wraith’s old lady. Of course, he’s no longer alive to tell the tale. Some of the San D boys have no reason to love us, but I hadn’t picked up on that vibe around the table. Thank fuck.
Without wasting any more time, we go to our bikes. Apart from Slick, Lost and Tinder are coming with us, as well Snips and Smoker. Poke is going along with Snake and Mouse, along with a couple more of their boys. Two trucks are already waiting for us, each being driven by a prospect. Prepared as we can be, we peel out of the lot and once more retrace our steps back through the city.
We don’t try to be quiet as we thunder up to the house. Knowing the loud pipes will have announced our arrival, I send Tinder and Snips around the back so no one gets out that way, and then approach the front door, which flies open before I raise my hand to knock. Thank fuck Tyler didn’t take his mama’s message to heart.
For a second I just stand there open-mouthed as the boy leaps into my arms. It takes me a second to realise tears are falling down his cheeks and he’s hanging onto me as though his life depended on it.
After disentangling myself from his tight hold, I lean back so I can see into his face. “Where’s yer mom?” While I’m waiting for an answer, I look behind him. Slick pushes past and goes inside.
“Daddy took her away. I don’t think she wanted to go, Dart.” He sobs out the words. “She was crying. I saw him hit her.” My arms automatically squeeze him, trying to give him comfort, while inside I’m burning with rage. Thompson dared hurt her? And in front of the boy?
Slick emerges from a back room, his hand curled around the girlfriend’s arm. He’s being none to gentle, but I don’t give a damn.
“Where the fuck is Thompson?” I hiss through my teeth, not wanting to yell and upset Tyler any more than he already is. “And where’s he taken Alex, his wife?”
Her eyes are flicking around in horror. “Please get out of my house. Tyler. Come here, son.”
Tyler only holds on to me tighter.
“Please.” She sounds panicked. “He left the boy with me. Said we were going to be looking after him now. Please, just go. I won’t call the cops if you leave now. But you’ve got to leave Tyler here.”
She won’t be calling the cops anyway. A polite conversation won’t cut it now I know Thompson’s started hurting Alex. And we can’t leave her here, we can’t afford for her or one of his pals to get him word we’re looking for him.
I exchange a few glances with Slick, a chin jerk over my shoulder, he lifts his head in return. “Prospect,” I yell, letting Tyler down, but keeping hold of his hand. As the prospect approaches, I hold out my other hand for his keys and chuck him mine in return. I don’t trust anyone else to drive the truck, not with both Tyler and the woman on board.
Slick’s already got her hands bound behind her, and for good measure puts a gag in her mouth. She may well be innocent in all this, but I’m taking no chances, and I don’t want her mouthing off in front of the boy. As we’re putting her in the truck, Lost emerges from the house shaking his head. I know he’s been searching. There wasn’t any doubt in my mind, but we had to make sure. Tyler is right, his mom isn’t here.
“Hey, Brother. Grumbler and I will stay on for a bit. Search for any paperwork that might give away another location.”
Nodding my thanks, I turn to Tyler. “Hey, little man. You’re going to sit up front with me, okay?” I wink at him. “But don’t tell your mom.” It’s a little bit of normality, a small reassurance he’ll be seeing her again. That’s all he needs to climb confidently in and allow me to fasten the seat belt. Illegal, I know, but I’ve not got much choice. I’m not leaving him in the back with a woman I don’t trust. She’s already damned in my mind by her association with that bastard.
Tyler’s sitting wide-eyed. “Are you taking me to Mom?”
Now how the fuck do I answer that? “You’ll see her soon, buddy. You’ll see her soon.” I’m crossing my fingers, hoping that’s the truth.
I risk another glance at him, seeing his bottom lip trembling, but fuck me, he’s trying to be brave. The brothers returning to the clubhouse with me start their bikes, and we pull away, and Tyler goes quiet as we navigate the San Diego traffic then drive out of the city and up to the clubhouse. As I’m pulling up the handbrake my phone rings.
“Yeah.”
“Snake, what did you find?”
“Fuck.” I bang my fist on the steering wheel. Alex wasn’t there, and Thompson’s clearly not taking her there to resume their married life. All her clothes are trashed, and things that obviously belonged to her, hairdryer and such, have been smashed. That’s not the action of a loving husband who wants his wife back. Like we left Lost and Grumbler, a couple of Snake’s boys are staying behind to search through his stuff. Mouse is apparently dismantling the computer he found in the study to bring it back to the clubhouse.
As I help Tyler out of his seat and put him gently on the ground, the one thought going around my head is, Alex, where the fuck has that bastard taken you?
Chapter 13
Alex
He won’t tell me what he’s done with Tyler. I’m going out of my mind worrying about where he might be, and who’s looking after him.
When we arrived in San Diego Ron took me back to our house and left Tyler in the car while he dragged me inside then handcuffed me to the bed. I was crying, begging him to bring my son to me, but without a word he’d left, leaving me to survey the wreckage of my bedroom. All my clothes have been shredded, everything I’d owned broken. What sane man would do something like that?
Although the house is warm, I grow cold at the realisation my son has been taken away by a madman. He wouldn’t hurt his son, would he? But now that Ron’s shown me his true colours, I can’t be certain of anything anymore.
I can’t stop the tears rolling down my cheeks, all full of fear for Tyler. I don’t give a damn what happens to me, just as long as my child isn’t harmed.
I don’t know how long he’s been gone, but when Ron returns sometime later, frees me from my restraints and drags me out to the SUV, I’m devastated to find there is no little boy sitting in the back seat. My worries about where he’d left my son, with whom, and in what state override any concerns about myself. “What have you done with him?” I growl.
“That doesn’t concern you.”
I see red, and spit out angrily, “Ron, I’m his mother. I need to know he’s safe.” I need to know you haven’t hurt him. “Tyler needs his medication. You know he takes antibiotics daily to stave off live-threatening infections, and needs his painkillers for when he has his episodes.”
“You smother him.” His voice is flat and cold. “He doesn’t need all that shit.”
And we’re back to the old argument. If Ron doesn’t listen to me, he’ll be signing his son’s death warrant. Even a mild infection could have severe ramifications. I have to make him understand. “Ron, for fuck’s sake. Tyler’s a sick child. You know that.”
But he never wanted to admit he’d fathered a weak son. “He’s only sick because you wrap
him in cotton wool. He’s got to man up.” He gives me a calculating look.
Christ! There’s no getting through to this man. My fears for Tyler increase ten-fold. I need to get away from him. Knowing I’d prefer to take my chances throwing myself onto the road, I reach for the door handle only to find he’s used the central locking. I press all the unfamiliar buttons, to unlock the door, or open the window at least so I can yell for help. Frantically I bang on the window trying to attract attention. Someone must see and help.
Sharply he pulls the car over into an alley and parks up. In one quick move, he pulls something out of his pocket and roughly takes my arm. I try to pull it away, but he’s got hold of me too tightly. The syringe plunges into my arm.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s your fault, you wouldn’t keep fucking quiet.” And that’s all I hear. Almost immediately a wooziness comes over me. I struggle against it as he turns the car around and gets going again, but it’s no use. I can’t keep my eyes open.
When I come around, I’m lying on a couch in a place that’s familiar, but with absolutely no idea why Ron’s brought me here. It’s my parents’ old cabin up in Big Bear, a couple of hours outside San Diego. How has he got the key? Have they given it to him? The thought that they might be complicit in my kidnapping is chilling. Would they force me to go back to him? Do they know I’m here? Have they any idea he means to harm me?
Groggily sitting up, trying to stop looking for explanations and instead seeking out a route of escape, I look around the room, noticing it hasn’t changed much since I came here in my childhood. There’s a musty smell as if it hasn’t been used for years. But the fact he’s brought me somewhere familiar gives me a moment of comfort. My sister will have raised the alarm by now, reported me missing to the police, and she might remember the cabin. Would she think of pointing them here? Then I remember what he’d told me, the police are his colleagues, his friends. They’ll believe what he tells them. It wouldn’t matter whether Celine has gone to them or not. They might pretend to go through the motions, but won’t follow through. Cops stick together.
No one will come looking for me here. Unless my parents know. They wouldn’t let him hurt me, would they? But deep down I know they’d be more concerned about me bringing disgrace on the family.
I stand and walk to the window, looking out on the beautiful but desolate view which only serves to remind me how isolated the cabin is. There are no neighbours, meaning he can do anything he likes, and however loud I scream there’ll be no one coming to help. Still weak from the after effects of whatever he’d drugged me with, I sink to my knees, wondering whether I’ll ever see Tyler again, praying with everything I’ve got that while Ron might hate me, he would take care of his son.
And where has Ron gone? Is this my chance to escape? Trying to clear my head, I pull myself up and go to the door. It’s locked. I try a window, it’s been nailed shut.
“You can’t get out.” Thinking he’d left me, I jump. I hate that voice and its sneering tone. “Not if I don’t want you to go.”
I try to swallow my fear down. “And will you? Let me go?”
“What do you think?”
I’m silent, already knowing the answer. Instinctively I know I’ve not got long on this earth. Why else would he have brought me to such an isolated place?
“Tell me, Alex. How do you think it felt to know you’ve sunk so low? That my wife was stripping for money? Letting men leer at the body that belongs to me?”
“I danced,” I try to tell him again, biting my lip, knowing even if I could convince him that’s probably bad enough.
“Show me how you strip, Alex,” he lazily commands. “If the bikers employed you, perhaps you do have some moves. Let me see what I was missing all those miserable years.”
That’s the last thing I want to do for him, and I shudder at just the thought. I’m scared but try not to let it show, keeping my voice calm, not wanting to provoke him into losing his temper. “I pole dance.” I wave my hand around. “There’s no pole here, so I can’t show you.”
“As if I want to see your fat ass contorted around a fucking pole,” he scoffs. “Just take your clothes off.”
“No.”
“No? Don’t make me force you.” His threat makes me shiver. He takes a step toward me, I take one back.
“If you do as I tell you, I’ll let you see Tyler.”
Can I believe him? But why does he want me to take off my clothes? Is he going to rape me? I’d let him do anything to me if it means I get to see my child again. And it wouldn’t be much different to how he’d taken me in the past. If that’s what it takes to see Tyler, I can do that.
“Strip, Alex,” he repeats.
“Why?” I’m having difficulty believing he wants to see me naked. In the past, he’d tell me my body disgusted him. I can’t see anything would have changed now.
“Take off your fucking clothes!” And there’s that tone he used that last day, the one that carries a touch of madness.
I see a vein pulsing in his forehead, and realise he’s getting to the end of his tether. If he kills me I’ll never see Tyler again. My son needs me. Making a quick decision, feeling like insects are crawling across my skin, I reach for my top and pull it over my head, and then unbutton my shorts, close my eyes, and slide my shorts down and shrug them off over my shoes. It’s cooler up here in the mountains, and goosebumps rise on my body.
“Huh!” He sneers, leaning himself back against the wall. “If that’s how you stripped in the club I’m surprised they gave you the time of day. Fuck, Alex. You’re an ugly piece of work to begin with. Now take the rest off. And do it how you did it for them.”
Feeling humiliated, telling myself it’s not showing him anything he’s not seen before, I undo my bra and let it drop. Then I slip out of my panties. I shiver, from cold and despair. Is he going to leave me here without any clothes as a way of ensuring I don’t escape? It’s the only explanation I can come up with. I can see I’m not turning him on. One glance at his crotch is all I need to confirm that.
He smiles at me, the expression showing me I can expect trouble. He’s not a big man, but he’s enough to overpower me. He approaches menacingly, and although I struggle and try to fight him off, I’m still feeling dizzy, and it doesn’t take much effort on his part to drag me into one of the two bedrooms. As I look at the bare mattress, it’s clear what’s he’s been doing. He’s set all this up.
He uses his greater strength to immobilise me on the bed and uses two pairs of handcuffs to fasten my arms over my head, and another two sets to secure my feet to the bottom posts. I’m spread-eagled before him.
As I pull at the metal cuffs holding me prisoner, he stares at me and then says, his voice now calm and reasonable, “The thing is, Alex, if I let you go, you’ll just go back to the club and embarrass me like you did before. Do you know what it feels like to be a cop and know all your colleagues are snickering behind your back because your wife’s become a stripper? And can you imagine how I felt, as your husband, to know you were taking your clothes off and letting other men see what belongs to me?”
Any other man would just have divorced me. There’s something I’m missing, something I don’t understand. “Why does it bother you? You never wanted me!”
“And ain’t that the truth!”
“Why did you marry me if you found me so unattractive?” I scream out, realising I’ve never come out with it and asked him before, even though I’d often wondered.
Suddenly he laughs. “You stupid bitch. You really don’t know, do you? Did you really think it was ever you that I wanted? You’re fucking crazy if you do. Truth is, your parents gave me money to take you off their hands. I’m surprised you never guessed.”
What? Why would they do that?
“You really don’t think anyone would want a sad bitch like you without having a sweetener, do you? Fuck, it’s been hell living with you and that fuck-up of a son you had. But it was hard to turn
down the money they paid me.”
My parents paid him? While it’s hard to get over that blow, I realise I have to know. “How much, Ron? How much did they sell their daughter for? And why did they do it?” And what has he done with the money?
He shrugs, and chooses to answer the second question first. “They wanted you tied to a man who could control you. You’d started going to college, became independent. They didn’t want you to turn out like your sister. One daughter running off they could explain, but another getting pregnant or bringing home the wrong sort? They didn’t want to risk the embarrassment. A police officer could help them, and provide a good influence on their errant daughter. And as for the money? Not a lot in the grand scheme of things, but it came in handy enough. Allowed me to live the life that I wanted, which wasn’t with you. They gave me a down payment of a hundred thousand dollars, then twenty-five thousand a year after that, which increased to fifty once you had the kid. Unfortunately, if they know you’ve left me the money will stop.”
“So, you need me to come back.” And there it is. Money is at the bottom of it. Tears prick at my eyes, he never wanted me at all.
“No. I don’t need their money any longer, I’ve made other plans.”
I shudder, grasping it probably would be preferable for him to want me back. If he asked me now I’d put up with anything just to have Tyler back in my arms. Whatever scheme he’s alluding to will almost certainly bring nothing good my way. If he no longer needs the money… “You never wanted me, did you?” I don’t phrase it as a question.
But he answers anyway. “No man in his right mind would want a fat tight-assed bitch like you. And now I’m going to make sure they never will.”
What’s he talking about?
I might not know what exactly he intends to do next, but he’s got me at his mercy, and I’ll be unable to prevent it. I try to keep him talking. While I doubt anyone’s searching, the longer I can delay him, there’s a chance I could be rescued. “You were worried about losing the money then, when I left? I thought you’d be happy that I was gone, and took Tyler with me.”
Targeting Dart (Satan's Devils MC #4) Page 13