Finding Rhiannon

by Ker Dukey

  Where the fuck are you, little brother?

  “Ding, fucking ding!” Dice cries out. “Avery’s bank card was used at a gas station an hour from here at 4:32 pm.

  I check my watch. 7:03. He could still be in the area or squatting somewhere nearby.

  “Let’s get all brothers out there, sweep the surrounding areas. Let’s do brick by fucking brick if we have to.”

  “You coming?” I ask Prez. My old man looks like shit. This fucking crap has aged him.

  “I’m going to stay with the club just in case he comes here.”

  “He doesn’t have a death wish,” I growl.

  “It wouldn’t be the first time he’s set us up to make us vulnerable.”

  Never a truer word spoken.

  “Fine.”

  “I’ll come,” Darby pipes up.

  More the fucking merrier.

  “Get strapped and let’s move out.”

  * * *

  This poor fucking kid is younger than Avery. She’s about to piss herself.

  “Out!” I bark at all the leather-clad killers who piled into the gas station with me.

  Her body shakes as I walk towards her. A soft hand on my arm stops me. Darby moves forward. “Hey sweetie, what’s your name?” she asks the girl.

  “Rose,” she breathes out. She almost as white as the shirt she’s wearing.

  “Rose, ignore all of them, they’re not here to cause trouble for you. We’re looking for someone and he’s been in here. Do they work?” Darby points up to a camera.

  A nod of Rose’s head answers Darby’s question. “It’s an old system, so it’s VCR,” she squeaks out.

  Fuck. I didn’t know they still existed.

  “Can you show us?”

  She moves towards a door to the right of her. Darby hops over the counter like she’s about to rob the place. I opt for lifting the divide and walking through.

  The girl, Rose, unlocks the door and pushes it open. There’s a small office in there. Darby locates the camera’s feed and the correct tape.

  She points to the TV where the images for today play out.

  Rose decides to make a dash for it. She won’t get far.

  “Fast forward,” I growl. I’m already sick of this snake slipping through my fingertips.

  She pauses the VCR. It’s blurry, but it’s him. It’s fucking him.

  Hours ago, he was here.

  I pick up the TV and throw it at the wall. It causes a ruckus and dents the plasterboard.

  “He must be bedding down near here.”

  “Where was Avery found?” Darby asks and my mind races with the images of her being left for dead in the fucking cold, snowy earth.

  “She was dumped in woods about sixty miles north of here,” I grunt.

  She’s looking at me and there’s sorrow in her eyes. I don’t want her to feel sorry for me. I left Avery to pursue this cunt and left her vulnerable. I promised her he would never hurt her again and I broke that promise to a magnitude she may never recover from. Twisting the ring on my finger, I sigh, rubbing a hand over my head. Darby is on her cellphone, tapping at the screen to enlarge it.

  “Here.” She taps her hand on the screen.

  It’s a location on a map. “Where is this?”

  “It’s around halfway between here and where Avery was found. It’s an old motel, been derelict for years. The bush has claimed it back and it’s not visible from the road, you have to know it’s there.”

  “And how do you know it’s there?” I ask her.

  “Because me and my brother used to squat there when we were kids.”

  My heart is racing. This feels too much of a coincidence to not be something solid.

  “He will hear the bikes coming. I say we park up a couple of miles away and walk there,” she suggests.

  “Agreed.”

  “What’s going on?” Scorch barks. He’s on edge, has been since Rhi was taken and is almost as desperate to gut Brenner as I am. Almost.

  I will trade him for Rhi, she’s my baby sister and getting her back is the first priority. Buzz is crazier than he likes to think he is if he thinks he’s getting to kill Brenner, that falls to me. He will taste the steel of my blade. No one else’s. I owe Avery that much.

  Avery.

  I wish she would see me, allow me to help her heal. It’s torture being kept away from her, but I have to do this for her. I can’t force myself on her, we’ve done that enough. I wish she’d never been at that gas station that night. Granted it would mean we didn’t happen but she would be happy, living her life. I’d give her up if it meant she was happy. It will kill me but that’s a price I’d pay, for her.

  “We have a lead,” I announce.

  “This was a lead?” Scorch deadpans.

  “A better one,” Darby answers for me. “And Scorch,” she barks.

  “What?”

  “Let the girl go, she’s harmless.”

  I knew the kid wouldn’t have gotten far when she made a dash for it.

  His eyes narrow on her. He doesn’t take kindly to being given orders by a woman, especially one as young as Darby.

  He looks to me and tugs the girl he’s holding by the collar closer to him, breathing her scent in. “She could be useful,” he teases.

  The girl begins to cry.

  “You want to find Brenner or not?” Darby snaps.

  Scorch fucking growls low and primal like a wolf. He licks the girls face, soaking up her tears on his tongue. And then he releases her.

  “Run home, little red, before the big bad wolf gobbles you up,” he catcalls.

  The brothers’ laughter erupts as she runs away, slipping and then having to get back up. I’ve never seen someone move so fast.

  “Bet she was a virgin,” Owl bellows, his fat gut hanging over the waistband of his jeans and out the bottom of his Metallica shirt. Gross.

  “I bet you are too, you couldn’t even find your dick with someone else’s fucking hands,” Darby snorts.

  “Fuck you, bitch.” Owl grumbles.

  Darby gags. “No thanks, you seen yourself? I bet it looks like a button mushroom down there.”

  More laughter.

  “I’ll fucking show you what I’m packing, shove it right in that fat ass of yours.”

  “My fat ass? Your wheels are buckling.” She points and when he looks down she chuckles.

  “Enough.” I bark. I don’t have time for this shit. “You all follow me. We’re going to take Brenner alive! That’s a fucking order! We need him to get Rhiannon back home where she belongs.”

  “So, a bullet to the legs okay?” the fat fuck asks.

  “Only if he’s running,” I growl out.

  “Let’s ride out.”

  * * *

  It’s dead quiet, the only sound coming from the wildlife. The moon lights up the motel. It’s more than being taken back by nature. It’s barely visible, vines wrap over the structure as if suffocating the thing. Windows are smashed, and doors have disintegrated.

  I wonder if this is the end game the fucker saw for himself.

  All the chaos and destruction, and for what? To end up on the run from his family, his brothers, our enemies and the law? He’s running out of time now. It’s just a matter of who captures him, and when. I just pray it’s us that finds him first.

  I made everyone walk the last half mile and push their bikes with them in case we need a quick getaway. My brother has proven what a cunning little fuck he is, and I’m not being left without my wheels.

  Kicking down the kickstand, I hold my hand up for everyone to stop. I unstrap my Glock and grip the hilt of my knife in my other hand. I don’t want him dead, but I didn’t say he couldn’t bleed.

  We fan out, surrounding the place.

  “Frost,” Scorch whisper yells. He’s pointing to the end room; the door is closed but there’s a slight glow at the window, indicating a light on in there.

  My heart races. It’s going to explode from my chest like one of those face
huggers in Alien.

  My hand tightens on the blade and I creep forward. “Go around the back in case the restroom window leads out there.”

  We separate, the earth crunching under the heel of my boots as I move under the window and crouch. I signal for Scorch to wait at the door and then I peek my head up to look inside the window. I don’t see any movement.

  I slide across the wall, keeping low so if he is in there he doesn’t see me. Pressing myself up on the opposite side to Scorch, I let out a breath, and when my cell buzzes, letting me know Darby and the boys are ready out the back, I nod to Scorch, and he kicks the door open. The hinges screech and tear from their foundation. A plume of dust lifts from the floor and blurs my vision.

  There’s no sound, only our breathing. If Brenner were here, he would already be shooting the shit out of us. My hope deflates. I really thought this was going to be it. We can’t catch a fucking break!

  The dust settles, and the room comes into view. The light is an old camp light in the corner of the room and there’s trash littered around the window.

  “Fuck, what’s that?” Scorch grunts, moving over to a stain on the floor. There used to be carpet but now it’s so worn and moth-eaten that it’s just threads scattered about the place. “Blood.” Scorch leans down, dips his finger and brings it to his nose. “Old,” he confirms and then picks up material. It’s a bra, cut in two.

  And then my heart sinks.

  Realization must dawn on Scorch because he drops it and waltzes over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

  “You get out of here. I’ll check through the place, see if there’s anything in here to indicate where he’s gone.”

  My Avery’s clothes lay in ruins next to a pile of her blood. I want to burn the entire fucking place down. Erase it so it didn’t happen. I want to rewind time and go back. I wouldn’t leave her. I’d never leave her again.

  “Frost. She’s alive. She’s alive, man. In time she will come around.”

  He tries to comfort me, but I don’t deserve comfort. I don’t deserve her forgiveness. I need to give her retribution. I need to give her Brenner’s head on a stick.

  “Frost!” Darby calls from outside.

  I leave the nightmare of the room and inhale the clean air. “What you got?”

  “I have delicate information.”

  “Spit it out,” I order, agitation in my tone.

  “Brenner just walked into the Cutters’ club.”

  Fuck!

  “He got a death wish?” Fat fuck hollers.

  “This is bad news.” Scorch rubs a hand over his jaw and then the back of his neck.

  Fuck.

  “He thinks they still have Rhiannon, wanted to trade for himself,” Darby informs me. How the fuck she’s getting her intel I don’t know, I’m just glad she showed up when she did.

  So, it appears he would give himself for Rhiannon. I should never have doubted that. He’s always been close to her, over the top at times. She’s the other half of him, the good part. It’s as if night and day formed their soul and spilt right down the center.

  “We need to get him back. Let’s go in, rally everyone together. This war has been a long time coming.” Scorch paces, nodding his head as he speaks like he’s losing his grip on reality. Isn’t that my fucking role?

  We’ve lost enough brothers for Brenner, by Brenner’s own fucking hands. Going in guns blazing won’t guarantee we leave with the fuck-up. They could shoot him, or we could.

  “Frost?” Darby says my name, asking for a command.

  “I’ll trade.”

  “Trade what?” Scorch scoffs.

  “Whatever the fuck I have to.”

  He’s nodding his stupid head again and chanting, “Yeah, ok, yeah, ok, do it, do it.”

  I pull my cell from my pocket and hit Brig’s number.

  Fuck me, this is going to be brutal. I just know it.

  22

  Rhiannon

  Chills race up my back, it’s freezing, and I feel disgusting. Something tickles my leg and I kick out and swat at my leg. Something’s on me, scuttling up my jeans.

  “Oh, God. Argh, get it off me!” I screech, jumping to my feet and doing a jig on the spot. I unbutton my jeans and yank them down, kicking them off and rubbing at my legs. A bug crawls from beneath the crumpled heap my jeans are in.

  “Eww,” I cry out. Gross.

  Buzz comes barreling into the room, his gun is drawn. He appears stunned when he looks at me. His eyes drop to my legs and I realize I’m standing in just my underwear and shirt. I cover my panties and point to my jeans. “A cockroach. A goddamn cockroach.”

  He frowns. “And?”

  “And it was on me, Buzz!” I screech.

  “It won’t hurt you.”

  “It’s a disgusting cockroach.”

  “Welcome to how the other half live, Princess.” He snorts and throws a bag on the floor.

  “You lived in the clubhouse, asshole, where I’m pretty sure the only cockroaches are the ones with fake tits and two legs, not eight,” I spit out.

  “Six,” he deadpans.

  “Six what?”

  “Cockroaches have six legs, they’re insects.”

  My cheeks heat. I knew that.

  “What’s your fancy school teaching you?” he ridicules.

  “I’m done.” I stamp my foot like a two-year-old.

  “Shut up and eat something.” He points to the bag he just dropped on the floor.

  “No.”

  “No?” he breathes, exasperated.

  “Not used to hearing that word?” I smirk.

  He closes the space between us and grasps my chin with his entire hand. “Just not used to listening to it,” he corrects.

  “Pig,” I hiss at him.

  “spoiled bitch,” he spits back, pushing me away from him.

  Fuck him. I’m so done. I look to the front door, he’s been out for food.

  “I’m leaving,” I state, confidence dripping from my voice but lacking in my courage. There’s a part of me that thinks he wouldn’t hurt me, not seriously anyway, if I did try to leave. But then there are the stories I’ve heard about him and Tats. That terrifies me.

  “Sit the fuck down and eat.” He moves over to where his laptop is set up and sits down, flitting his fingers over the keys. He leaves me chained to the kitchen pipe while he leaves the house to go charge that thing, it must be somewhere nearby. I need to get out of here.

  “They’re going to trace your connection and come for me,” I warn, and he glares over at me.

  “You think so?” No, I just want you to drop a clue about where we are. He says it so confidently that I wonder if he wants that to happen. To just end it all. There’s this desolate look in his eyes, like losing his brother broke his heart and stole whatever soul he had left.

  “I reroute the WIFI, ping it off everything from here to kingdom come, no one can trace me. No one.”

  I shrink, my shoulders sagging. “I’m freezing Buzz. I’m already getting ill and it will just get worse. It’s been weeks. How long are you going to keep me here?”

  “As long as it fucking takes. Now stop bitching at me. If you’re cold, put your pants back on. I don’t need to be seeing you like that!” he shouts, picking his laptop up and storming into what was once a kitchen.

  Tears brim my eyes, and I want to scream until the foundations crack and tumble down around us.

  I pick up my jeans using my thumb and pinky finger and shake them to make sure the critter didn’t crawl back in there, and then slip them up my legs. My whole body tingles and itches. A cold shiver races up my spine and I scratch at myself.

  How long have I actually been here? It’s been too long. Why hasn’t anyone come for me yet? Do they think I’m dead? Have they given up on me?

  No, no! Scorch will come for me, he won’t give up. Will he?

  I listen for Buzz, but he’s fallen silent. My eyes dart to the front door and nervous energy sparks in my veins. If I don’t
at least try, then am I really a captive? Slade and Scorch will ask if I tried to flee and I haven’t, not really, but only because I’ve not had the opportunity.

  My heart pounds and I take a step towards the door. Nothing happens. I take another step.

  Does he actually just trust that I won’t run?

  Fuck it.

  I rush to the door and unlatch it. When it opens in my palm, my breath catches, and adrenaline floods my entire body. He didn’t lock it.

  I take off running out of the garden, through the gate and onto a road. Rows and rows of houses that are boarded up, some that are even falling down, line the street. Graffiti is sprayed over boarded-up windows.

  I suck at the air to fill my chest and my lungs burn. My legs tire but I keep going. The soles of my feet smart and beg for relief. But I can’t give them any.

  Stones and twigs corrupt my speed and then heavy footfalls sound out. Boots slapping asphalt.

  No. No!

  I run, willing my legs to try harder but I feel him crowding in around me like a storm, and then a hand grasps my hair and I’m yanked so hard backwards my feet lift from the floor.

  I cry out and kick.

  A burning path screams over my scalp and then I’m in his arms.

  “No.”

  I scream and fight, my nails dig into his flesh and my feet kick at his shins.

  “Calm the fuck down!” he growls against my ear but I’m hysterical. My mind is closing down and my limbs are moving on their own accord.

  I’m done, I’m so done.

  He releases me, and I drop to my knees. The concrete bites into my flesh. I get to my feet and take off running once more, heading for the tree line instead of the road. I whip into the brush and try to disappear into its camouflage.

  The trees loom over me, darkness from the approaching night closing in. Thunder roars in the sky and the heavens open, pelting me with ice cold sleet. I’m soaked through within seconds, but I don’t stop. Twigs cut into my feet and whip past my face.

  Suddenly I halt, my feet freezing on the ice when a gunshot rings out, cracking the sky like thunder. It sounds so close that my ears ring.