Love in Due Time

by Smartypants Romance

  “Junior Henderson is the only one I recognized.” Her voice is shaky as she speaks.

  “How the hell do you know him?” I shouldn’t swear at my child, but I’m equally shaken. Clem’s eyes fill with tears as she shrugs and I’m sensing there’s more she isn’t saying, but it’s a name and a start.

  I’m gonna kill that boy. Then his father who I’m certain is behind this. This was his sick game to begin with.

  “Okay, we’ll send an APB out on the boy, see if we can figure out who he’s with tonight or where he went.”

  “Where’s Gramm?” But I look up to see my mother inside the front door, holding the handle, watching Clem and me.

  “Go back inside, sweetheart. I have Dahlia in the truck. I’m gonna send her in too, okay? All my girls go home, and I’ll be there soon.”

  “Dahlia’s here?” Surprise and excitement fill Clem’s voice, but I don’t have time to consider the sisterhood of my daughters. I need to find Naomi.

  “Daddy,” she says, still holding my hand as I stand. “I’m sorry about the prophecy.”

  “What prophecy?” I ask.

  “The one I made for you and Miss Naomi. I got mad that it didn’t come true and I smashed the ball. It’s the reason we were outside in the first place. Miss Naomi followed me.”

  What the fuck? “Dandelion, you can explain everything to me later, okay? But I need to go look for Miss Naomi and you need to go home with Gramm.”

  I press a kiss to Clem’s fuzzy head and note the scent of honey and almonds coming from the scarf around her hair. Naomi.

  “Now, Nathan, let the sheriff’s department handle this,” Jackson says, hitching a thumb in his belt. Ignoring him, I nudge Clem toward the front door and turn to my truck.

  Yanking open the passenger door, I say to Dahlia, “You need to go home with Gramm and Clem.”

  “I am not going in the community center like this,” Dahlia replies, drawing a hand down her costume, horrified.

  “You should’ve thought of that before you selected your outfit. Naomi has been kidnapped, Dahlia, and I need to go after her. Out.”

  As Dahlia steps out of the truck and heads toward the community center, she calls back to me. “Dad, I’m sorry for what I said before.” Her voice lowers as I open the driver door. I step up on the sideboard and peer back at her. “I don’t hate you.”

  “I know, baby. We’ll talk later, okay?”

  She nods as I slip into the cab and start the engine.

  I feel like all I’ve done this night is chase my own tail—racing after Dahlia, running to Clem, and now searching for Naomi. Suddenly, the Tail of the Dragon doesn’t seem like the hardest journey of my life. My ride to find Naomi does, and I just hope I’m not too late.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Dewey Decimal Classification: 364 Criminology

  [Nathan]

  “Where the fuck is she?” I snap, barging into the Dragon Biker Bar. I’m asking for trouble, going all lone wolf into the Wraiths’ lair, but I need to know where my girl is, and this is the first stop. I have no doubt Dwight is part of Naomi’s kidnapping with Catfish behind it all to get me to join the Iron Wraiths.

  I glare at Catfish as he slowly stands from a stool. “Now, Wolf, what makes you think you can barge into my bar and make demands?”

  “When did you become the prez?” The chatter and music around us lowers as it appears the others near us await an answer. The Iron Wraiths had a president—Razor Dennings, who’s incarcerated. Second in command was Darrell Winston, hospitalized, and another lieutenant in arms, Repo, has been missing for years. Even Razor’s old lady has disappeared. The club should be renamed Chaos because that’s what they are in the middle of, and because I know all these facts, I’m not concerned about speaking up to Catfish. I haven’t heard he officially holds any title yet.

  “I don’t want any trouble. Just tell me where the girl is.”

  “What girl is that?” Dirty Dave steps forward, licking his lips like he might have eaten said girl. I swear he makes chirping sounds under his breath.

  “My woman. Naomi.” I’m making a bold statement, a true one. Naomi Winters belongs to me. I want her safely returned first and then I’ll worry about why they took her.

  “We have no business with the birdie librarian,” Catfish says, raising his hands in surrender.

  “The fuck you don’t. She’s been harassed ever since I saw you at the Canyon. A fire in her yard. Broken taillights.” I pause. The broken car lights were before we went to the Canyon. “Where is that weasel, Dwight?”

  Dirty Dave laughs. “Weasel. Huh, good name for him.”

  “We haven’t seen him tonight,” Catfish says, sitting back on the barstool.

  “Where might he be, then?” My anger is reaching a new level. Any second, I’ll make a mistake in judgment and reach out for Catfish like I’m going to do the moment I find that jackass Dwight.

  Catfish shrugs. I step forward.

  “If it were Daniella, you’d be turning this valley upside down.”

  Catfish’s eyes pinch to slits. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “The fuck you don’t.” It’s no secret that Daniella Payton’s family would not approve of Catfish and Daniella renewing their relationship from when they were kids, and yet, it’s also not a secret they’ve been seen—kissing—while she was engaged to another man. A Winston of all men.

  Catfish stands up fully, but I still have size on him. “You’re mistaken.”

  “I’m not, and you know it. If she were missing, you’d see red.” I don’t have to tell him how I know about their affair. All Catfish needs to know is I’m willing to speak to her parents. Her father is a judge, and I’d start a personal war with Catfish, because love makes us do crazy shit.

  “You have my word, Wolf. I don’t know where he is. Or her.” His word means nothing to me, and we continue to glare at each other—two pit bulls waiting to be unleashed. But there’s something in his expression which makes me believe him. Maybe it’s the slight softening of his hard-edged jaw when he sees I’m not backing down until I have my girl. My shoulders fall, the weight of unanswered questions pressing on me.

  Where could she be?

  “How are things going up at the mansion in the mountains?” Dirty Dave interrupts, a twisted gleam in his eyes. “Looks like a beauty of a place.”

  I’m about to tell him to shut the fuck up until something clicks.

  A party at the construction site.

  I turn for the door.

  “Hey, I’m not done talking to ya,” Dirty Dave hollers after me.

  “You are now,” I say, flipping him off and exiting the bar.

  I make it to the Bickerton’s in record time, although each minute it takes me to get there means one more minute Naomi might be in danger. I refuse to believe I’ll be too late. I also refuse to consider the extreme.

  Would they truly burn her?

  I shiver at the thought.

  I cut the engine the second I arrive. A light flickers and then dies inside the construction site.

  Please don’t let it be a fire.

  I’m not surprised when I hear the purr of motorcycles behind me, but I don’t look back. This is my business. I’ll deal with the Iron Wraiths afterward. I don’t go for the front door but sneak around the back where, I’m assuming, they cut into the Tyvek. However, I don’t find an opening anywhere as I circle the house and find myself returning to the front. Catfish and Dirty Dave help themselves to the door. It opens without a catch.

  Mother— I follow them. Inside, I’m surprised to find four people in addition to Catfish and Dirty Dave.

  Three teenagers and one Dwight.

  “Son of a bitch,” I say the second I see Naomi tied to a chair, tape over her mouth. I do a double take as her face is streaked in black. Her hair is a tangled mess, looking extra white. A bigger shock is she’s wearing pants and a giant tie at her neck. It takes a second to register she is dressed in a
costume.

  “Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Dwight sneers and I turn on Catfish.

  “Didn’t know where she was, huh?” My fingers curl to fists as I stare down the wannabe president.

  “Wolf, I just gave you my word. We followed you.” Catfish turns his eye to Dwight. “What’s going on?”

  “Capture the witch,” Dwight gleefully gloats, sweeping a hand toward Naomi. Tears pour from her wide eyes. I want to go to her, but I need to get the situation under control. There’s five of them.

  “Explain,” Catfish demands, his booming voice cutting down some of Dwight’s fun. Junior steps forward and speaks.

  “We captured the witch,” he states, like this is something out of a play, only there’s nothing heroic going on here. “Ding, dong, the witch is gonna die,” he mocks, and I lunge forward. Dirty Dave catches me, and Catfish steps up to Junior.

  “Why’d you take her?” he addresses the messy-haired teen.

  “Wanted to show we could.” His expression is almost the same as his father. “Wanted to prove we could deliver any package.”

  Dirty Dave snorts. The boy turns to his father, a menacing glare in his eyes, but there’s something more. Something I remember from the night I witnessed Junior and his friend swapping something with Catfish. Junior is seeking recognition from his father. Acceptance. And it’s pathetic he’s gone to such lengths.

  “What did you plan to do?” I demand over Dave’s shoulder, although I’m already predicting the answer and my stomach twists with the thought.

  “We have unfinished business,” Dwight answers, turning to face Naomi. “The boys were helping me. Although now that you’re here, my intention might be different.”

  What did he originally intend to do? The unimaginable crosses my mind. Naomi whimpers behind me.

  Catfish turns to Dwight. “What do you mean?”

  Dwight’s lost in thought as he glares at my girl. His voice lowers to an angry hiss as he says, “Itchy witchy, little bi—”

  Catfish grabs him, cutting off the insult.

  “It’s just a little joke.” Dwight’s eyes flick over to me, glassy and dazed. Is he high?

  “What’s the joke, punk?” Dirty Dave asks of Dwight’s son.

  “Burn her.” Junior’s words turn my insides to ice.

  Naomi’s feet begin to kick and the chair she’s secured to tips. I shrug out of Dave’s grasp, and reach for the tilting chair. Kneeling next to her, I place a hand on the nape of her neck, in hopes of settling her. Her skin is cool but sweaty and I can only imagine the fear running through her. Her eyes widen as she looks at me, confusion and pain mixed together. Does she think I’m part of this?

  As a construction worker, I always have a pocket knife with me, and I pull it from my jacket. The snap of the switch causes a chain reaction. Dirty Dave pulls a gun and Catfish turns his back on Dwight Henderson.

  “Maybe we can offer a trade,” Dwight suggests.

  “I’m setting her free. She’s not a part of this,” I announce. “This is between us. This other …” I point at Naomi. “… is some stupid kids’ shit that went too far. Again.” My eyes flick to Catfish as I begin to cut Naomi loose. Slipping behind her, I work at the ties on her wrists while shifting my eyes to Dirty Dave. “Catfish, how about you get the hound to lower the gun?”

  “Put that away before you hurt yourself,” Catfish snaps.

  “Him for her,” Dwight demands, although he’s in no position for demands. Then it hits me. Did Dwight take Naomi in hopes I’d patch in? Me for her? It doesn’t make any sense. He hates me.

  Catfish doesn’t move while I saw at the ropes on Naomi’s wrists. With Junior’s attention on his father, the other two teens hover in silent stupor behind him. No one makes a move to stop me.

  “You’re not going to let him get away with this, are you?” Dwight demands of Catfish, stepping toward him. Big mistake, prospect. You don’t question the authority of the club.

  Catfish turns on Dwight. “What did you hope to accomplish with this?”

  “You’re the one who wants him back. Here he is. Take him.” Dwight waves a hand out to me as if I’m the prize.

  “You don’t know shit,” Catfish snaps, and I’m a little relieved as I can’t imagine him sharing our history with someone like Dwight.

  Dwight’s face falls, panic setting in. “It’s their fault. They just called me in after they got her.” He points at his son and friends, and I’m shocked. Dwight Henderson is ready to sell out his kid to save his skin. Then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s never to blame for anything, according to him.

  “You asked us to do it,” Junior snaps, and Dwight raises a hand to smack his son. Instead, Catfish slaps Junior. The crack of skin on skin resounds in the emptiness of the framed first floor. One of the boys behind Junior flinches at the action.

  “Don’t you lay a hand on my son,” Dwight snaps although seconds before he was ready to do it himself. Catfish grabs Dwight by the throat.

  “Your son? If you were a Wraith, he’d be my son. Son of the club. I’ll treat him any way I want for this ignorance.”

  The club is your family. All members belong to each other, even children. Catfish isn’t wrong. If Dwight were to patch in, Junior would be handled how the Wraiths saw fit. Catfish smacks Junior again, waiting on Dwight to respond. When Dwight doesn’t, I’m sick, and I’m also done. This is another reason I can’t join the Wraiths. I’d never manhandle a child.

  “This is gonna hurt like hell,” I mutter as I reach for the corner of the duct tape over Naomi’s mouth. Her eyes widen in understanding, but she nods once. She lets out a horrific scream as the tape rips at the delicate skin around her lips. It’s swollen and red, and I imagine it stings, but I have no time to comfort her. I need her out of here.

  With hands on her upper arms, I slide Naomi from the chair and shift her behind me. She grips the back of my construction jacket. We don’t have a moment for the reunion I want which involves me never letting her out of my sight again. Instead, I walk us inch by inch closer to the open door.

  “No matter what you hear next, you run like hell to your house and lock your door. Then call the sheriff,” I mutter over my shoulder to her. My tone remains steady, although it’s opposite of the vibration hovering over my body.

  “What about you?” she whispers and my chest clenches with hope. Is she worried about me? Does she still care?

  “Go,” I press, keeping my body before hers, blocking the door so she can escape.

  “What the fuck?” Dwight says, making eye contact with me as the door cracks open and Naomi slips out. He rushes me but not before Catfish has him again by the shoulders. Dwight yells at me around Catfish. “You son of a bitch! She’s gonna squeal!”

  “And you’d recognize a squeal, you fucking pig,” I bark, stepping forward, ready for a fight.

  “Ha, Piglet. That’d be another good name for you,” Dirty Dave says as if figuring out a gang name was the most important item at hand.

  “I’ll kill you for this, Nathan,” Dwight threatens.

  “Actually, there’s no killing under our protection.” Catfish twists to eye me, willing me to accept the position. He’s here offering me asylum against Dwight if I’ll only say yes. Whether his intention or not, Catfish fell into Dwight’s trap. Me for her. An Iron Wraith prospect again.

  I’ll find another way.

  I can’t be one of them.

  Suddenly, Junior Henderson has Dave’s gun and the click of the trigger grabs all our attention. He’s pointing it at Catfish.

  “You hit me,” Junior bites, a single tear slipping down his swollen cheek, but the edge of his jaw gives away a more murderous expression.

  “Don’t cry, you big baby. You want to be a man, act like it,” Dwight commands. The disgust in his tone unsettles me. And that’s the thing. He’s not a man. I bet, he’s not even seventeen. What has this boy suffered under this man?

  “Now, son,” Catfish
begins, keeping his voice calm as he slowly raises his hands. “That’s not a toy.”

  “Shut up,” Junior replies with a shaky grasp on the trigger.

  Oh boy. Catfish looks like he’s going to eat this kid for breakfast.

  “Steady boy,” Dirty Dave says before lunging for the kid and a shot explodes. Without thinking, I tackle Catfish before I hear the thud of another body behind me. The gun clatters to the floor. Still covering Catfish, I search his body, looking for a puncture to his skin or blood. Wide eyes meet mine as I find him clear of injury. I look over my shoulder to see Dwight slumped against bracing two-by-fours, his hand covered in blood.

  “You fucking shot me,” Dwight mutters, his hand at his thigh which is seeping. For a split second, I think I’d like to watch him bleed to death for being a prick, but that’s not the kind of man I want to be.

  “You saved my life,” Catfish mutters under me and the comment spurs me to action. I crawl over to Dwight and remove my jacket, pressing the thick material to the wound on his upper leg.

  “You shot me,” Dwight says, his voice shaky and confused as he watches the blood oozing from his leg. His eyes remain focused on his thigh although the words are intended for his son. Dirty Dave has his arms wrapped around the boy, holding him to the ground.

  “You let him hit me,” Junior states, his tone weak and uncertain, as if he’s startled himself. Perhaps he fired the shot unknowingly. The adrenaline coursing through him could have made him shoot. The high takes over and you pull the trigger without thought.

  “I’m tired of people thinking they can hit me,” Junior states, trying to straighten under Dirty Dave’s grasp while his lower lip quivers and he glares at his father.

  He’s only a kid, I remind myself.

  Catfish stands and Dave pulls Junior up before him. The two other boys remain shocked and startled until the low sound of sirens filter through the sliver of the open door.

  “Get out of here,” Catfish tells them. “You didn’t see anything.” The two youths scramble toward the back of the house and disappear. Catfish looks at me and I tip my head. He nods in return. Dave releases Junior and the Iron Wraiths step out. I’m not certain how the remaining three of us are going to explain this—my word against the Hendersons—but I’ll tackle that in a minute. It seems hardly any time passes before the sound of sirens echoes louder down the road, and then red and blue lights flash through the open front door.