by Chelle Bliss
I studied the inventory, staring at the mass of guns on the bed: Five AR-15s, three Smith & Wesson .44s, two 9mms, a sawed-off shotgun, and a brand-new Sig Sauer P320 pistol. I pulled out the five bulletproof vests I had amassed while in training and kept on hand for future use, and added them to the collection.
The front door opened and closed before heavy footsteps moved through the house. When I placed my hand on the pistol, I heard Mike yell, “Yo!”
Fuck, I needed to calm down. They weren’t going to come back for me. They had what they wanted—whom they wanted.
“Up here!” I yelled back, shaking out my hands and rolling my neck. I needed to loosen up and get control of the situation.
Mike pushed the door opened and whistled. “Fuck, that’s pretty. What the hell are you doing with all this shit?”
“Some people collect figurines. I collect guns. And for the first time, the shit is going to come in handy.”
He walked up to the edge of the bed, grabbed a .44 from the collection, and checked the chamber. “What the fuck is going on? Your text had me in a panic, man.”
“Angel is gone. I don’t know what the fuck happened, but I got a text demanding money for her life.”
“Fuck me,” he muttered, pointing the unloaded gun out the window and pulling the trigger.
“Where the fuck is everyone?” I complained, glancing at my watch.
Just then sound of screeching tires echoed through the room. We left the guns behind, running down the stairs to meet them at the door. James, Joe, Pop, and Anthony were walking toward the door.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Anthony barked, pushing past me as he entered the house.
I rolled my eyes, not really ready to deal with his shit, but we needed the manpower.
“What the hell is going on, son?” Pop asked as he gave me a quick hug.
“Let’s talk in the kitchen.” I waited as they filed in one by one before I entered behind them. Then I grabbed the note off the counter and slid it in the middle of the table.
James grabbed the note, scanning over it.
“What’s that?” Joe asked, sliding into a chair.
“What is this shit?” James growled, holding up the piece of paper and shaking it. “I call bullshit.”
“It is. I woke to find this note,” I said, snatching the paper. “Angel said she was leaving. When I texted her, I got a reply, but not one I was expecting.”
“Yeah, there’s no way she’d leave and go back to her shitty life.” James bit his lip, knowing he’d already said too much.
I jumped in quickly, bringing everyone back to the topic at hand. “The text said they wanted one million dollars or they’d kill her and come after me.”
“What the fuck!” Joe roared, slamming his hand on the table. The table jumped, falling back to the floor with a thud.
“Do you know who?” Anthony asked, sitting forward and dropping the attitude.
“No fucking clue. We need to find someone to track her phone. See if they can get a location. We need to run down a list of suspects and figure out how we’re going to get her back.”
“How long?” James asked, thinking like a cop and not in shock about the situation.
“Forty-eight hours.” I rubbed my forehead, feeling a headache building in my skull.
“Not enough time,” Joe mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.
“No, buddy. We got this shit,” James said, tipping his chin to me. “We need someone who can access her phone records ASAP.”
“Flash?” I offered, grimacing as I spoke. He was a sore spot for both James and me.
James winced, his eyes coming to mine with a cold stare. “Little fucker,” James muttered, swiping his hand across his face to muffle his words.
“I always hated that little prick,” Joe agreed, knowing full well what James had said.
“I don’t trust him,” Mike stated firmly with his lips set in a thin line.
Pop stood and leaned over the table, placing his knuckles flat against the surface. “Boys, it doesn’t matter if you like someone. If they’re useful, then you have no choice but to bury the hatchet.”
Everyone quietly thought about my father’s words, knowing he’d spoken the truth. For my sake—and Angel’s—we had to go against our personal feelings and use any means necessary, even if that meant Flash.
“Pop’s right. He’s our only hope to get information from her phone and possibly find her location.” I pushed back from the table, the sound of the legs scraping against the floor ringing in my ears. “James, can you call him and get him on point?” I stared at James, waiting for him to protest. I knew the Izzy-Flash situation of the past was still stuck in his craw.
“Only for you, Thomas. Only for you.”
“Doesn’t matter why. Just do it.”
With that, he got up from the table, dialing his phone as he walked into the living room. “Flash.” James’s voice grew quiet as he moved out of earshot.
“What do we do first?” Mike asked, leaning forward and clasping his hands together.
I could see his muscles flex and relax as he sat there. He was pumping himself up, ready and needing a fight. He’d been out of the ring too long and missed the greatest joy of his life—besides his girl. Fighting was in his blood.
“Here’s what we’re going to do…” I laid out the plan, going over each step and different scenarios. A lot would depend on where, who had her, and what their true motives were.
On the surface, it seemed as if they were out for some quick cash, but it might have been a ploy. Maybe they wanted to weed me out and use me as an offering to the MC. There were more possibilities—probably dozens I couldn’t even imagine.
Much of the operation lay in Flash’s hands. He was our starting point, and everything would radiate and develop from his intel. As we were talking through our plans and determining the weapons at our disposal, James came back in the room and tossed his phone on the table.
“He said give him twenty.” He collapsed in a chair, stretching out his legs and rolling his neck.
Not only was he tied to Flash because of Izzy, but Rebel’s death was something the three of us had dealt with together. We were all culpable and guilty of that crime. I wasn’t sorry that he’d died, but seeing Flash and having the three of us together would bring up old wounds of the night we’d killed a man in cold blood.
Shaking off my thoughts, I looked at James, waiting for him to return my stare. “Good. He’ll come through for us.”
James nodded, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a deep breath.
“James, what about calling Bobby?”
“What about him?” he asked, looking down at his arms. His lips were almost in a frown, as if he were pouting about Flash. Maybe it was the remorse he felt about Rebel.
Even when you knew it’d been the only option you’d had, knowing that you’d killed another human being left a feeling of guilt. Rebel had been a complete piece of shit, but as a DEA agent, you vow to serve and protect. If we hadn’t finished him, he would’ve come after Izzy and James, and I would have also been in his crosshairs. It was the only way it could have ended.
“We need him to do some digging. I need to know everything there is to know about Angel. All of her connections. And I want information on her crack-whore mother.”
“Think she’s involved?” James asked, bringing his eyes back to mine, a look of disbelief written on his face.
“She’s a bitch who would do anything for money. She may not be responsible for her abduction, but she played a role. I’d bet my life on it.”
Anger began to boil inside me. I had known she was a cunt when I’d met her. The way she’d tried to attach herself to any member with a dick who wasn’t taken by an old lady… She didn’t want to be a club whore. She wanted her place in the MC, but no one took her up on the chance. Roxy and I developing a relationship had to have pissed her off after she’d remained a sidepiece for yea
rs.
“Who wants coffee?” Pop asked, breaking the tension in the room.
We were on edge—James and I more than the others. But it was clear that testosterone and pissed-off male were floating in the air.
“I got it, Pop,” Joe said. “Sit and relax with the guys. We know you can’t make coffee worth shit anyway.”
“Some things are best left to your ma.” He laughed as he sat, throwing his hands in the air as an apology of sorts.
James’s phone began to play “I Fucking Hate You” by Godsmack as it danced across the table. After quickly grabbing it to stop the words from continuing, he snapped, “You better have some fuckin’ news.”
He glared at me while he listened to Flash, tapping his fingers on the table. He needed to get over his bullshit with him. I didn’t care if he’d slept with my sister or not, and neither should he. James had won; Izzy was his and his alone. Flash could never say the same.
“Got it,” James said as the table quietly waited to hear the news. “What else?” He rolled his eyes, slamming his fist on the table. “Goddamn fuckin’ social media. Stay by your phone, and I’ll call you back if we need more.”
“What did he say?” I asked before he could end the call.
Setting his phone down, he sighed. “Flash did some digging. First off, he found that she’d used her Facebook app on her phone. He found her page and she wrote a status update a couple of days ago. Thomas, her location was turned on. It has to be how they found her.”
“God damn it,” I said, raking my fingers through my hair and pulling at the roots. I hadn’t even thought about her phone being tracked. Why had I been so fucking stupid? I should’ve checked her phone. “What else?” I asked, angrier with myself than with anyone else, especially Angel.
“The location was down the road from here. She must have been in the car when she updated her status. It didn’t show the exact location of your house, but it was in the general vicinity. Anyway, he was able to trace her phone to a tower near Orlando. He’s working on getting a more exact location, but it’s going to take time.”
“Just get it done. We have nothing without a location. I’d rather catch them by surprise than have to show up at a drop-off location on their terms.”
“I’ll call him and make sure he pushes the shit through as quickly as possible.” James called Flash back. “Thomas said to get on their backs about the location. Do whatever you have to in order to get the information ASAP.”
Then he stood, walked to the sink, and stared out the window. “We don’t give a fuck about that. Make it happen any way you can,” he barked before hanging up the phone and turning around to rest his ass against the counter. “It’s done. We’ll know something in the next twenty-four hours.”
“Good. James and I need to call Bobby, our old boss at the DEA, and get more information.” I looked around the table, taking in the angry expressions of my family. “I want each of you to think long and hard before you decide to go with us to rescue her. It’s dangerous and risky. The ladies won’t be happy about it. Even though I have bulletproof vests, any of us could die.”
“I’m in, brother,” Mike responded quickly, nodding his head as he stroked his chin.
“Me too,” Anthony chimed in, sitting back in his chair, calm and relaxed.
“Joe,” I said before he could reply. “You have a baby on the way. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be there. You have the most to lose.”
“Fuck that shit, Thomas. I’m there. If you’re in trouble, it affects us all. You’d do the same for me. Baby or not, I’m there for my family. Suzy will understand.” His stare was steely and serious. I knew that once he’d set his mind to something, there was no way in hell I’d be able to change it.
“Right.” I turned toward my pop as he looked around the table. “Pop, Ma will be so pissed if you come with us. I think you should—”
He put his hand up. “If my boys are going, then I’m going. No one can stop me, especially your mother. I’m the one who taught you boys everything you know. Plus, I’d be going freaking crazy sitting at home when I knew shit was going down and you were all in danger.”
“Pop—”
“Not another word, Thomas. I’m coming with you.”
I sighed, dragging my hands down my face as I blew out a breath. If I didn’t die in hail of bullets, my mother might finish me off for involving him.
“I’ll send a text when I have more details or when you need to come back. For now, go home and act as normal as possible. I don’t want the girls in a panic.”
“Uh, dude,” Mike grumbled, raising his index finger.
“What?” I snapped.
“The girls already know. I mean, what the fuck did you expect? It’s Monday morning and you summoned us here. They know something is up. I can’t lie to Mia.”
“Don’t tell them that Angel’s been kidnapped. Make something else up.”
“Your stories better match,” Anthony blurted, pushing the chair up and standing. “You know they’re going to talk to each other. One slip-up and you’re all history.”
“Fuck,” James hissed, kicking the floor with his foot. “They’ve probably already done a party line by now.”
“Just tell them that I thought someone broke into my house and I needed help checking it out.”
“You think they’re going to buy that crock of shit?” Anthony asked, shaking his head.
“Why not?”
“Bro, you seriously underestimate the ladies. They’re slick and smart. Nothing gets by them,” he replied, picking at his nails as he smirked.
“Your lady problems get by them.” I sat back and smiled, seeing his eyes shooting to mine.
Everyone around the table turned to him with a look of shock, especially my father.
“Traitor,” Anthony snarled, glaring at me and looking like he wanted to lunge across the table.
Pop put his hand on Anthony’s shoulder. “You have some explaining to do, son.”
“Coffee?” I asked, a small smile on my face because I knew I’d thrown Anthony under the bus. I’d outed him and his dirty little secret. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I knew it involved a woman who had him by the balls.
“Nah. I better get home to Suzy. She’s probably starving by now.” Joe stood, squeezing Pop’s shoulder before holding his hand out to me. “Call me anytime, day or night, and I’ll be here.”
“Thanks, Joe.”
“I better get home and washed up,” Mike said. “I have to be at the clinic in a couple of hours to help. Wait up for me, Joe. I’ll walk out with you.” He followed Joe into the foyer with a quick wave and a nod.
“I’m out.” Anthony stood, staring down at Pop. “Ready to go, old man? I’ll take you home.”
The “old man” turned to Anthony, his head tilted and his eyes sharp, and stared at him. “You need to watch yourself, son.”
“Sorry, Pop.”
“I can’t wait to get home and tell your ma that you have a girlfriend,” Pop said, holding Anthony on the shoulder as they walked out the door.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Ain’t so old anymore, am I?” Pop asked, closing the door.
“Want a cup?” I asked James, knowing he wasn’t a morning person, much like myself.
“Please. I’ll call Bobby and have him do a background check and dig into Angel’s past. We need to isolate any potential problems and determine which ones are credible threats.”
“I’ll pour, you call.” Standing by the coffee pot, I stared outside and wondered where she was.
Had they hurt her? Was she in pain? Had they killed her? The thought of that made me want to hurl, my stomach clenching tightly in a knot from thinking I’d never touch her again.
“Bobby,” James said, pulling me from my thoughts as I grabbed the pot and poured him a cup. “I’m putting you on speakerphone.” I placed the coffee in front of him as he said, “Bobby, we have a problem.”
Chapter 20<
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It had been twenty-four hours since she’d disappeared. Fear gripped me at times, but the anger kept me going, driving me forward to find her. During the day, my family had been there for me. One by one, they had come over to sit with me and attempt to calm my fears. My brothers and James hadn’t been able to keep the information to themselves and had to bring the girls over with them. I couldn’t be angry that they hadn’t kept their promise to not tell the ladies.
I’d racked my brains for hours, trying to figure out why someone would do this to her…and to me. Was it one of my enemies, or were they truly after Angel?
There were so many people who would want to bring us harm. It boggled my mind.
My family was putting their lives on the line for Angel, someone they barely knew, because I’d asked. Without their saying it, I knew they were watching me, worried I’d go Rambo and try to rescue her myself. Although it did pop in my mind from time to time, I knew it wasn’t wise.
There were several things we knew for certain:
Sarah Roxanne Parker had created a post late Sunday afternoon, about seven hours before her disappearance. The post was about being happy and how quickly life had changed. Her location had been turned on, and anyone in the world could have tracked her because the post was set to public. It was a mistake many people made, not knowing they were giving their location to every stranger who bothered to look.
Besides Facebook, online connections were minimal. We were unable to check her messages without risking tipping off the people responsible for her disappearance.
She had very few enemies or people who could be classified as a threat, but I had too many to count. The suspect on the top of the list was her mother. There were no other people Bobby could identify as possible assailants.
After hours of trying to track her cell phone, he had been able to determine that they were located in the northern part of Orlando. They would have a better idea after I received another message.
Although she’d had a sketchy career, she was a decent person. The people she’d worked with were sleazeballs and scumbags, and any of them could have played a role in her disappearance.