by Wild, Nikki
I felt woozy.
I knew how this had ended.
“He went to the police,” I groaned, “and that didn’t go over so well.”
“Correct,” Grizz replied calmly as he cleaned out a glass with a rag, feigning activity to keep talking to me. “Hunter’s information got his ass locked up in interrogations for hours with the club members in his company. Myself included.”
“And by the time he went back…”
“They were gone, yes.”
The pit in my stomach grew deeper than ever. Hunter had told me that he’d gone to the cops with some evidence of the cartel’s workings, and some intelligence on where to possibly find them… Turns out he had found the girls and lost them, thanks to goddamned police incompetence.
My blood was boiling as hard as ever, but this time, it wasn’t because Hunter had hidden something from me after all… it was because he had come so close to saving them, and ineptitude and prejudice had robbed him of his chance.
“What can you tell me about the Desert Owl?” I asked suddenly, turning to Grizz again.
He paused in mid-swipe on another glass, refusing to look at me. “Trust me… you already know more than you ever want to know about him,” Grizz cryptically explained.
“He’s an interrogator, right? That’s a weird name for one of those… I know that he’s a combat medic, but that’s about it…”
Grizz sighed heavily. “He joined the armed forces to see bloodshed. He wanted to witness the horrors of war right up front and center, and so he enlisted in the medical division to treat amputations and infections on the front lines.”
I swallowed.
What kind of people has Hunter conspired with to keep the peace out here? What kind of man does it make him to have someone like this at his beck and call?
“I know what you are thinking, Sarah,” Grizz quietly informed me. “You are questioning the sanctity of the man who was your lover.”
“Something like that,” I agreed.
“Are you a good churchgoing woman?” he asked quietly.
“Not quite,” I replied, taking notice of the small cross hanging round Grizz’s neck. I hadn’t been inside a church in twenty years…
“Allow me to be perfectly clear…” he replied as the glass and its rag were set down. All illusions that this conversation wasn’t happening were cast aside.
“…I do not serve evil men,” Grizz told me under no uncertain terms, “nor do I serve men who maintain the company of the wicked. I follow the president of the Devil’s Dragons club because he has steered us from wanton violence and cruelty… He is my King Solomon, and I am his Benaiah. Hunter doesn’t enjoy fighting these evils. He does not pride himself on it. He has gathered allies, forged truces, and curried the favor of hundreds. Hunter works with men who walk the path of the righteous…”
I didn’t have words to reply, but I didn’t have to. Grizz turned to watch as Hunter stepped back into the club, looking worn and fatigued. The events of the night were starting to weigh on him.
I could only imagine that whoever was on the other end of the phone hadn’t exactly made things easy, either.
“Thank you,” I quickly whispered to Grizz, who merely nodded silently and watched Hunter approach.
“That was the Desert Owl,” Hunter mentioned offhandedly. He rubbed the side of his face with a palm, but paused when he saw the two of us near each other – separated only by the counter.
“I thought I told you to watch over the club,” Hunter remarked with a hint of irritation. “Why are you over here with Sarah?”
Grizz stiffened, but didn’t skip a beat to answer matter-of-factly: “My apologies, sir. I was answering Sarah’s questions about the club, about the Outlaws, and about the incident in Tucson.”
Hunter looked like he was about to lose his fucking mind for a split second, but then descended into raucous laughter.
“Stir the assholes who are still sleeping,” Hunter finally replied. “I need five bikers ready for a hard ride…”
Grizz paused.
“You mean…”
“I do,” Hunter cut him off. “Don’t waste your time on anyone who’s too hung over to shoot. I can’t afford to lose anyone on this.”
“Of course.” His right-hand man dutifully left the bar, descending into the bar hallway.
Hunter confidently smirked at me.
“I have a plan.”
I ignored this. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded to know. “What was the point of leaving out the minor detail of, oh, I don’t know… actually seeing the fucking missing girls?”
Hunter smiled sadly. “It doesn’t matter. The girls are gone now, and we may never see them again… But I knew you might not stay the course if you thought there was a chance those girls might still be on this side of the border.”
“They might still be here! What else aren’t you telling me? Do you know where those girls are?”
“Sarah,” he tried to cut in.
“No, Hunter, you don’t get it,” I insisted. “I can get the Tucson police out searching every damn drop house on file if there’s even a possibility they’re still in the states! We might be able to save them!”
“Sarah!” He demanded, fiercer now. His hand rested onto my shoulder a little harder than really necessary. It was when his fingers clamped tightly that I glanced up, full of confusion and irritation.
Something inside me puffed up in irritation, but I stilled my tongue. Instead of losing my shit at him, I nodded slowly.
“I have no idea where those girls are, now… they were moved very, very quickly. It doesn’t matter which side of the border they are on, because the only way to find them is to help me track down the kidnapped immigrants. Do you understand me?”
He was telling the truth, and I knew it.
“You told me you had a plan,” I recalled, wanting to change the subject.
“I do,” he revealed, letting go of my shoulder and crossing his arms. “But I need to wait for my men to – ah, Grizz! There you are.”
We watched his second-in-command file back into the room, followed by several bikers – all of whom looked like they had just crawled out of bed.
“I have assembled some volunteers,” Grizz explained, stepping aside. He took a position near me, crossing his thick arms and leaning back against the bar countertop.
We shared a quick glance as Hunter walked forward to address them.
“I have a plan,” Hunter explained to those of us assembled. “As some of you are aware, there was a midnight operation. We received a lead on the latest local abductees, and tracked Víboras Verde to a farmhouse out of town… Needless to say, it didn’t end well. They moved quicker than we suspected, and were already assembling the hand-off when we arrived. As a result, we lost the girls, but took a big bite out of the cartel in the process…”
“All except one,” Grizz clarified. “He’s having a heart to heart with the Desert Owl…”
Hunter gave a nod.
“Turns out the girls aren’t going far. They’ll be held at a safe house on the other side of the fence for a few days before they’re moved further into Mexico. This provides us with an opportunity to reclaim them fast. If we let this window close, they’ll disappear forever… and there’s no telling how soon the cartel will re-emerge here. They may take their chances somewhere else along the border…”
The bikers in attendance were quiet. It was clear that they were emotionally invested, but I couldn’t quite understand why.
“My instincts tell me that we won’t be prepared for what we find there… I don’t think we’re going to find your run-of-the-mill safe house. I think we’ll be heading into trouble. Serious trouble. We don’t have the luxury of time, but there’s no way in hell they expect us to come hauling ass into Mexico. This is our last chance.”
The bikers were hanging off of his every last word.
“That’s why I’m risking sending you into the night. You ride in different dire
ctions and connect with the other clubs. I need each of you to come back with a team of able-bodied men.”
One of them spoke up.
“Sir… what do you want us to tell them?”
“Tell them everything I have told you,” Hunter replied confidently. “Lay out everything we have done so far… the battles we have fought, the distances we have crossed, and the enemies that we face… And offer up the usual cut of the take. Our little friend told the Owl these assholes are sitting on at least seven figures, cash. I don’t want the money, I want the girls.”
“And if they refuse?”
“Do not let them,” Hunter replied. “If they don’t want to answer the call, they’ll be answering to me tomorrow…”
Another biker grimaced. “When do you need them? You know how this works. It’ll take days to get the Outlaws together…”
Hunter pointed to the floorboards beneath his boots. “I need them here before noon.”
Everyone in the room was stunned.
“Tell them to come locked and fucking loaded. I don’t have time to assemble everybody, but I want to see representatives from the five closest motorcycle clubs. I expect thirty or forty men here when the sun is high,” Hunter commanded. “If we don’t make this happen now, we are never going to see these girls again…”
The bikers shared a communal glance, and then nodded their acknowledgement.
“Prepare your bikes,” Hunter ordered.
With his eyes still on the door Hunter watched the men file out before he turned with his shoulders squared up.
“Grizz,” he spoke softly.
“I know.”
The burly biker uncrossed his arms and sauntered towards the door, casting one last look our way before departing.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Grizz has a special assignment,” he replied coolly. “There is a rather difficult rival president I need on my side tomorrow night… an old fucker who gets shit done. The effort requires some careful diplomacy. In the meantime I’ll need my rest, and Grizz knows it. Tomorrow is going to be a hard day.”
“Half these men were drinking a couple of hours ago. Do you really trust them to head off into the desert alone at night?”
“I trust Grizz’s judgment,” he replied.
With that, he started walking towards the door, preparing himself to send some of his best bikers out into the dark to seek out allies.
“Wait, Hunter,” I called out to him.
“Yes?” He turned, his handsome frame twisting on a boot to gaze across at me.
“You never explained how you were planning on going across the border,” I answered. “We can’t go back to the farmhouse after tonight. You know there’s going to be police in the area…”
“We’ll be taking a slightly different way.”
“Then what’s your angle?”
Hunter’s familiar chuckle rang out.
“We’re not going through the border, Sarah… we’re going under it.”
Chapter 14
The following morning, the text from my Lieutenant read:
I won’t tolerate insubordination. Your vehicle’s GPS still puts you in fucking El Paso. When you decide to finally end your little vacation, I want your badge and your goddamn gun on my desk. You’d better not keep me fucking waiting.
“Well, at least he’s not mad,” I sarcastically quipped to nobody in particular.
I felt Hunter’s strong arms around me, and I nestled my head backwards into his neck. “Let me guess… your Lieutenant didn’t take the realization that you’re still in town very well.”
“Something like that,” I answered. I lifted the screen up and unlocked the phone with a swipe, allowing him to read the message.
“Oof,” he exhaled sympathetically. “Maybe he’ll sing a different tune after this is all over…”
“Fat chance,” I grumbled. “I worked so hard for this fucking promotion. Now, it’s all going down the goddamn drain…” I turned my head to regard his rugged face and soft gaze. “What the fuck am I going to do, Hunter?”
“I’ve got a good feeling about this,” Hunter murmured into my hair. “Hold out a little longer. I think we’re about to turn the tide of this thing.”
“You’ve got good feeling?” I asked, feeling aggravation begin to rise in my core. “Like you did last night?”
Hunter pulled away from me, running his fingers through his thick hair. “Don’t start with me on that. Last night was necessary, Sarah. We’ve got a way into their operations now. ”
Hesitantly, I reached out to him. My palm slid across his back, and he relaxed slightly beneath my touch.
“You’re right,” I told him. “I’m sorry. I’m just stressed out. I’m no closer to finding these girls… and we fucked up last night. We could have saved those abductees before they disappeared across the border… If I had something to show the Lieutenant…”
“We still have a chance,” he replied. “I have a plan.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but there was a knock from outside. Hunter stepped away and opened the door, revealing a tired but smiling Grizz.
“Our guests are here.”
“Thank you,” he acknowledged, sending Grizz back into the bar. He took me by the hand, pressing it to his lips. “It’s time, Sarah. Are you joining us?”
Staring him in the eyes for a moment, reading his gaze, I gave him a stern nod.
“I was hoping you might say that…”
With a thick presence of solemnity, Hunter led me out towards the dusty, thick heat of the desert. We passed the entirety of the Devil’s Dragons MC – fifteen of them in the main room of the bar, parting around us quietly.
I had expected all of us to convene in the bar, or maybe even in the back rooms. But when Hunter continued out, and I stepped out behind him into the sun, I understood why we were leaving the shade for the open air.
There weren’t thirty or forty bikers.
The roll call was way bigger than that.
There must have been at least seventy motorcycles in the circular crowd, each one beneath a menacing biker. I could barely make out the emblems, but none of them looked familiar – and at a glance, there were five, maybe six different clubs represented here.
Holy shit, I thought to myself.
These are the FEW friends he requested?
Hunter held a hand up to my torso, pausing me near the steps. We shared a quick, meaningful glance as his club fanned out around me; I knew they were here to greet the other clubs, but they almost seemed protective as they flanked me from behind and on both sides.
I took the hint. With my breath caught in my lungs, I watched Hunter step alone into the clearing they had left for him.
In response, the rival bikers revved their engines in acknowledgement.
With the rest of us hanging back at his request, Hunter stood tall before them all. As if trying to quell the rising tension, the breeze picked up, whipping the long hair of some of the bikers.
“I am in your debt,” he shouted, fully grasping the mantle of Devil’s Dragons motorcycle club president. “Understand that I would not call upon all of you without just cause, but a mutual enemy has come.”
“And who would that be?” One of the more vicious bikers demanded to know, leaning forward against his handlebars. “I think I speak for a lot of us when I say that this had better be good, boy.”
Undeterred, Hunter squared his shoulders.
“I have summoned all of you here to help me face Víboras Verde – The Vipers of the Green.”
Murmuring rose among the crowd.
“Some of you will know that name, I expect. Others will not. It has been a long time since they have meddled with our desert.” Hunter spoke to all of them. “For those in the dark, let me tell you a story of the monsters we face…”
In unspoken agreement, the bikers merely listened, some of them positioning themselves more casually on their silent motorcycles.
“I don’t know
how far back this cartel stretches. They’re an established presence, but they’re smaller fish. They are not indestructible. I’ve faced them before, with my brothers here…”
Hunter paused, waving back towards the assembled bikers around me. “…And we have made them bleed,” he continued with conviction. “We hit them on their own turf, and we hit them hard. Hard enough that I didn’t hear a thing out of them for almost eight years…”
One of the bikers nearest Hunter spoke up. He was a wiry, elderly thing – too far away for me to make out any discerning details, but I could barely discern a heavy scar down the side of his face.
The rival president, I remembered. Hunter had specifically called for this one, and he was important enough that he sent Grizz out into the night to secure him…
“And I suppose you’re gonna be leading the charge?”
Hunter nodded solemnly.
The elderly biker laughed, his chest rattling with old age. “Tell us, Hunter… What have these people done that forces you to call upon the rest of us?”
The rest watched quietly.
Hunter stood his ground. “This cartel deals in the trafficking of women and children – all to be sold into sexual slavery to the most disgusting crime lords and mobs you can imagine. And they aren’t waiting for their victims to come into Mexico anymore…”
The bikers visibly stiffened, glancing between each other. It was clear that they did not take kindly to hearing these words.
“Eight years ago, they made things very personal for me,” he confessed gravely. “The fuckers came for my sister – and with the help of the Devil’s Dragons I was able to save her… ”
He paused, choosing his words.
“Now, they have returned, and they are stronger than ever,” Hunter growled, turning purposefully to gaze upon several bikers in the crowd. I could see the burning hatred in his eyes as he updated them on the evil of their enemy.
“These monsters are not kidnapping tourists in Mexico anymore – they’re crossing our border, coming into our turf and stealing teenage girls. These poor, lost souls are forced into drug addiction, kept in the shittiest hovels you can possibly imagine, before they are auctioned off to the highest international bidder – and forced into endless, abominable rape for the rest of their short, miserable lives.”