Army nodded. “Yeah, fuckin’ positive.”
Last week, he’d been heading to the compound when he took a detour. He didn’t realize where he was headed or what he meant to do. Somehow, he ended up at a jewelry store. He walked in and looked at several rings. When he set eyes on the two-carat, princess-cut diamond, he knew it was the one for Allie. He picked a simple band, had it sized, and maxed out his credit card to pay for it. It cost a fortune because it was two carats and because of the color, clarity, and some other bullshit the saleswoman explained he hadn’t paid much attention to, but he wasn’t leaving the store without buying it. It was Allie’s. What it cost didn’t matter. It was worth it. She was worth it. He’d take several guard jobs, and it’d be paid in full.
The saleswoman called him that morning and told him the ring could be picked up. He brought Army along because Army was his best friend and because as her brother, he wanted his approval.
It was soon, too soon to be thinking about proposing, but he wasn’t changing his mind about her, not in a month, not in a year, not in a decade, not in a century. She was the one for him, the only one. He wasn’t going to waste time. In the biker world and life, they were as good as married, but Allie was beautiful, sweet, and smart. She didn’t grow up in the biker world and didn’t fully understand it. Most importantly, she deserved to wear a white dress and walk down the aisle in a church. Women dreamed of doing that, and he wanted to make all her dreams come true.
“Telling you it’s perfect. She’s gonna fuckin’ ball when she sees it.”
He drew his gaze away from the diamond to look at Army. “Don’t want her fuckin’ crying.”
Army chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s what women do, brother. They’re upset; they cry. They get emotional; they cry. They’re really happy; they fuckin’ cry. Get used to that shit now.”
“It’s true.”
His gaze snapped to the saleswoman, Giselle, a short blond with pale blue eyes.
“I know because I’m a woman and all.”
He looked back to the diamond ring. He grinned.
“Is she expecting it at all?”
“She’s not,” Army answered.
“Then she’ll definitely cry, but it’ll be a good cry.”
“Haven’t even thought how I’m gonna do it.”
“That’s easy.”
He looked at her.
“Some men go all out, do something spectacular, but she loves you, she won’t care whether you ask her in a fancy restaurant, at a concert, or in the middle of a bar.” She smiled. “Trust me.”
“Thanks.”
His phone rang. He dug into his pocket, answered it, and brought it to his ear.
“Got some news,” Doug said.
He handed the ring to Giselle, so she could package it, and said to Doug, “Spill it.”
“This info was hard to come by because the bastard’s smart. Discovered he has an off-shore account, got millions in it under a fake company. That company makes deposits into other off-shore accounts. Looked into them and found out those companies are also dummy companies. Got sites with addresses, but the buildings are empty. It was a fuckin’ pain in the ass, but discovered those off-shore accounts belong to judges in New York. Get what I’m saying?”
He got it. The ex was paying off judges. This information leaked, the ex would be facing jail time and lots of it. Trig wouldn’t need to worry about the bastard messing with Allie’s life because his life would be in shambles, and his Allie would be safe.
He smiled. “Don’t need to tell you to leak it.”
“You don’t. Just sent a slew of emails to all the right people including the media, meaning agencies in charge of sorting this shit out are gonna wanna do it fast. All we gotta do now is wait for his ass to get arrested.”
Fuck. Best day ever.
He’d move Allie into his house this weekend, and then he’d propose. They’d get married and have a couple of kids, and he’d never go a day without her.
“You haven’t said a fuckin’ word for like two minutes. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in shock.” Doug chuckled. “Now, to some bad news, haven’t been able to figure out who’s been messing with her. Found nothing on that. That said, guy’s a defense attorney, so he knows plenty of shady people willing to do anything for the right price, and he’s got money, so, not that I have to warn you, but keep eyes and ears out for that, least until he’s arrested and whoever he’s paying to mess with her realizes he isn’t getting paid.”
Doug was right. He didn’t have to be warned. It didn’t matter, not anymore. By this weekend, he’d have her settled in his house. He had a state-of-the-art alarm system, and he’d be there. Nothing would touch his Allie. “You’re right. You don’t.”
“Gotta let you go. Got another call.”
He hung up, looked to Army, and grinned. Army handed him Allie’s diamond. As they strode out to their bikes, he explained what Doug found.
Sitting astride his bike, his phone rang again. He read Blaze’s name on the screen before he answered it.
“She’s fuckin’ gone, Trig.”
The worst fucking greeting of his life, the worst words he’d ever heard in the same sentence turning the best day of his life into the worst.
Gone.
He didn’t need to ask who. The moment he’d heard the words, he felt a deep pang in his chest.
“Trig! She’s fuckin’ gone, brother. Don’t know what the fuck happened. She went into the bathroom and never came out. Don’t fuckin’ know how the fuck—”
His throat dry, fear clogged it. Still, he managed to say, “Compound.” He barely recognized the sound of his own voice, streaked in anguish and fear, mirroring how he felt inside. He caught Army’s gaze and was thankful, his brother could read him. He wouldn’t have to force himself to say it a loud. Army read the agony he felt churning his whole body in his expression.
Allie was gone.
Chapter Thirty-Three
They drove for what seemed like hours. Then again, it probably seemed like hours because Allie was terrified and couldn’t see where they were headed. In a sense, she didn’t need to know. Wherever it was, Wyatt would be there. Nothing else would matter after that. He may have told her kidnappers not to hurt her, but he would.
Once in the SUV, the man holding the gun shoved it in her face and instructed her to get on the floor. Her mind racing, her heart palpitating, she did. Finally, the car stopped. The man beside her, grabbed her elbow, and hefted her up, pulling the gun in her face. “No fucking screaming. No fighting. No trying to get away. Your man’s paying me good money for this fucking job, and I need it.”
She swallowed the fear choking her and nodded.
He opened the door and dragged her out of the car. She glanced around, not recognizing any of it. An industrial area, a large building with several warehouses lined side by side, but it looked abandoned: no cars, no people, no life.
“Move.” He pressed the butt of the gun to her lower back.
She followed the other man into one of the warehouses. Inside, it was dusty and as she’d assumed, abandoned.
“Move. Far corner, then sit.”
She nodded, walked the distance to the corner, and sat on the floor, facing the men who took seats in two chairs in front of her. She wrapped her arms around herself attempting to stop shivering.
The leaner man pulled out a cell phone, dialed a number, and brought it to his ear. “Fuck.” He hung up. “Bastard isn’t picking up.”
“Probably means he’s on his way. Take a while though.”
The leaner man turned. “Figured that, smartass, but don’t think you fucking realize I don’t want to be sitting here for hours till he gets here. I need to get this shit over and done with and get back to New York before my parole officer realizes I’m gone. He better be fucking good on his word, pay me my fucking money, and get me off those fucking charges. Prison isn’t fun.”
“Can say that shit again.”
<
br /> None of this information bode well for her. First, they were criminals. She didn’t know what either of them had been to jail for, but Wyatt was paying them and promised to get one of them off charges. Chances were for the right price, they’d do just about anything, even getting rid of a body.
They might need to do that, too. There was no way in hell she was going anywhere with Wyatt.
****
Army went right for Blaze. “Why the fuck was she alone?”
At the garage, two uniformed officers stood a couple of feet away, talking to Blaze. Most of the brothers were there. The rest, Trig knew, were on their way. Mia, Lynn, and Tiffany were also near, huddled together.
“We fuckin’ agreed. We fuckin’ voted. Two fuckin’ guys on her all the time.”
Blaze, brows drawn, shook his head. “She had to use the bathroom. Did you expect me to go in there?”
Army advanced. Instead of backing away or fighting back, as if he thought he deserved it, Blaze steeled himself.
Trig grasped Army by the shoulder and dragged him away. “We aren’t gonna stand here, fighting over what should’ve been done. It’s fuckin’ done, and Allie’s fuckin’ gone.” His voice cracked. “More time we spend fighting, less time we spend lookin’.”
Army relaxed, but his jaw clenched. “Why wasn’t one of the women with her?”
“Fuckin’ better this way,” Cuss said. “We’d be lookin’ for two instead of one.”
“No telling what they’d do to someone they don’t want who’s extra weight.”
His phone rang again. He fished it out of his pocket, turning away from them, and brought it to his ear.
“Been calling you. Wyatt got on a private jet about an hour ago. My guy’s trying to find out where he’s headed,” Doug said.
Too little, too late. “She’s gone,” he managed to say. His voice hollow.
“Fuck. What do you know?”
“Nothing so far.”
“Flight’s eight hours. You got time.”
Yeah, except that all that time Allie would be with God knew who, terrified out of her fucking mind. Nothing he could fix. Nothing he could do.
“Call you back, let you know if I can find out where he’s landing. Whoever’s flying the plane didn’t file a flight plan. Don’t know how the fuck they managed that. Suppose everyone and everything has a price. It’ll take time to figure this out. I’m gonna check to see if he owns any property in the area. Might be your best bet.”
“Yeah.” He hung up, turned to his brothers and the cops, and explained what Doug said.
“You sure it’s this Wyatt guy?” one of the cops, George Conaway, asked. The club knew most of the cops. Before the club had been clean, they knew them because they avoided them. Now, they knew them for different reasons. Cops knew, like the whole town knew, the club was the reason their streets were clean. They didn’t work with them, and they didn’t condone what they did, but the cops on some level, were glad for it.
“It’s him,” Trig said, instantly. “I know it’s fuckin’ him. We know it’s fuckin’ him. Don’t waste your time, our time, and her time lookin’ at anyone else.”
“No reason why she would’ve left?” The other cop asked. Young and new to the force, Trig didn’t know his name.
The question directed at him, but hung in the air. He wanted to respond quickly, but the pang in his chest deepened.
“She wouldn’t have left,” Army answered. “No way in fuckin’ hell she would’ve left.”
“She’s over eighteen, hasn’t been missing for more than an hour. Our hands are tied.”
Rage building inside him, he took a step in the cop’s direction. “She was fuckin’ kidnapped. We’re telling you, means your hands aren’t fuckin’ tied.”
“There’s no proof.”
“How would she have left?” Blaze asked. “I drove her there. She doesn’t have a car, and she left her purse in the booth where she’d been sittin’.”
George opened his mouth to speak, then stopped when he lifted his phone out of his pocket and answered, “Conaway.”
They stood in silence waiting for him to finish.
He hung up. “Someone reported a black SUV driving in the back of the bar near the bathroom window they found open. Anyone of you owns one?”
He fisted his palms tightly. “Most of us got black SUVs or trucks. None of us took her, so make the fuckin’ calls you need to make, and find my fuckin’ woman.”
The cop’s eyes hardened. “I’m the fuckin’ law. I gotta ask these questions.”
He took a step in his direction. “Get that ’cause I’m not blind, but it isn’t your fuckin’ woman who’s been kidnapped. It’s mine, so I don’t fuckin’ think you understand she’s fuckin’ terrified and alone. When her ex gets his hands on her, he’s gonna be pissed she left New York. He’s gonna be pissed we roughed him up for slapping her in broad daylight, and he’s gonna be livid she’s with me. It means he’ll be outta fuckin’ control, so out of it, he’ll fuckin’ beat her until she’s isn’t breathing, and if my woman ain’t breathing, neither will he.”
“It’s plain stupid to say that to a cop.”
“I’m not fuckin’ stupid. I’m fuckin’ pissed I’m having to convince a fuckin’ cop to find my woman. I’d known, we wouldn’t have called the fuckin’ cops, and it don’t matter what the fuck I tell you ’cause she’s not breathing means I’m not living just fuckin’ existing. I can exist fine behind bars.”
It was something he said, the way he said it or maybe it was the anguish that clung to him clear in his face, but it worked. George held his gaze for a long moment, and then, he pulled his radio from his waist and reported the kidnapping and the possible suspect’s car description.
“We’ll keep in touch,” the cop said, and they left.
****
Allie didn’t know where she was or how long she’d been there, and she was still shivering. She’d cradled her knees and rested her head on them. It served a dual purpose. She wouldn’t have to look at the gun or the men who’d taken her.
She closed her eyes, and willingly, Jace’s face came to mind. Since she’d been taken, she tried her hardest not to think about him. She knew thinking of him would serve only to remind her what she’d miss the most, and then it’d be much harder to keep the tears at bay. At that moment, she didn’t care if she cried.
She wanted to remember everything, everything he’d said, everything he’d done. She wanted to remember the look in his eyes every time he told her he loved her, the way he held her every night and every morning, the way he said her name.
So she did.
And she cried.
****
No news.
Still.
It had been seven hours. Seven hours since she’d been taken, seven hours she’d been terrified, probably trembling and fucking alone. In a little over an hour, her ex’s private plane would land, and he’d find her wherever they’d hid her, and then, he’d fucking hurt her.
The ache in his chest strengthened. He braced, shaking his head, trying to force himself to focus.
They’d had no leads to her whereabouts. Not the club, not the cops, not Doug. Because of it, the brothers separated into groups, each going to a different airport and private landing strip to wait.
Waiting was the worst. Every second, the panic grew; the dread compounded. His heart beat so hard and fast, any moment he swore it would explode inside his chest.
He’d lived through a war and seen death. He’d stood at the end of a barrel too many times to count. He’d been shot at, stabbed, and too close to exploding IEDs, but he’d never been more terrified in his life than he was then.
If he didn’t get to her in time, he’d be like Ripper, angry and bitter, existing without living, fucking dead inside.
“Gonna find her.”
He spared a glance at Mellow and prayed for the millionth time for his Allie.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The door into the ware
house crept open. Allie lifted her head, and her gaze locked with Wyatt’s. Her eyes watered.
He rushed toward her and kneeled in front of her. “Alyssa? Did they hurt you?”
She shook her head then managed to whisper, “No.”
“Why are you upset?”
She swallowed. “How long have I been here?”
He turned to the two men who responded, “Nine hours.”
Wyatt faced her. “You hungry?”
Hungry? No! She was scared, shaking, and she wanted to go home to Jace. Saying it would be suicide, so instead, she took a deep breath. “I’m not hungry. I’m tired, and I’m scared. Ty is worried about me—”
“Don’t fucking mention him,” he snapped. “Or your lover. They took you away from me, and they beat me. I was in the hospital for a week, Alyssa. I had a cast on for a month and a half. They’re animals.”
“They didn’t take you away from me, Wyatt. I left. I left because you hit me.”
He slapped her hard across the face, the impact sending her head into the wall. Pain exploded at her temple making her eyes water.
“Fuck. Tell me you’re fucking kidding me?” One of the men asked. “Tell me you didn’t have me kidnap this woman, so you could beat her. I’m a fucking drug dealer, but I’m not a fucking—”
“You’ll do what I say and you won’t say a word because I’ll report you to your parole officer. You’ll end up in jail, and you won’t get that money you want so bad.” Wyatt spun.
She took one look at his face, at the menacing gleam in his eyes, and she knew what would come and knew it would hurt. Closing her eyes, she pictured Jace and braced.
Then the beating began.
****
Trig brought his palms to his temple and squeezed with all his strength. He then slammed his fist through the driver’s side window. It shattered, cutting his hand. Blood poured out and onto the ground.
It didn’t hurt.
It didn’t alleviate the throbbing pain in his chest either.
He was losing his fucking mind. No, he’d fucking lost it already.
It had been nine hours, nine long, agonizing hours suffering the unbearable ache in his chest, hours without Allie, with Allie terrified and alone.
Running Wild (Hell Ryders MC Book 1) Page 27