Outlaw Xmas: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 10)

by Chiah Wilder

  “What the fuck?” Banger said out loud as he reached in front of him. “Harley! Braxton! Call out.” He whipped is cell phone out and turned on the flashlight. Soon the room was lit with an eerie white glow as people held up their phones to guide them to their tables.

  “Where’re the boys?” Hawk asked.

  “I don’t know. They were right in front of us before the lights went out. I should’ve kept my hands on them. Fuck!”

  “Braxton! Harley!” Hawk yelled as he and Banger pushed through people.

  “Everyone remain calm. There’s been an outage. Power will be restored soon.” Lindi stood on stage and Banger glanced over and noticed Santa’s chair was empty. That’s strange. I gotta find Harley. Fuck!

  “Maybe they went backstage,” Hawk said, rushing ahead.

  Banger caught up to him and as they approached Tiny and Bones, the room was flooded with light. The patrons cheered and applauded and children scrambled over to their parents.

  “Did Harley and Braxton come this way?” Banger asked the brothers.

  “It was so fuckin’ dark, I couldn’t see a thing, but when I turned my flashlight on, I didn’t see them,” Tiny said.

  “I heard some kids screaming and I tried to see what the hell was going on, but by the time I took out my phone, I didn’t see anything. I ran out of the room but didn’t see shit. Are the boys missing? Tiny asked, his forehead creasing.

  The sound of his heartbeat thrashed in his ears. He’d been a one-percenter for thirty years, and he’d been faced with all kinds of danger, but he never let it affect him. But at that moment, terror seized him, squeezing every nerve in his body, splintering his heart.

  “Banger!”

  Belle’s voice made his stomach knot. What the fuck am I gonna say to her? I shoulda never let him out of my grasp. And Braxton. Fuck! He whirled around and saw Belle approaching him. He clenched his jaw.

  The festivities of the night resumed with one major change: Santa Claus had vanished. Lindi stood on stage, her eyes swimming with tears, and read off the names of the children while a few volunteers handed them their toys.

  “Where’s Harley?” Belle asked, her face glistening with sweat.

  “He’s not with you?”

  Fear crossed her face. “No. He was in the front with you, Hawk, and Braxton. Where’s Braxton?”

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and held her gaze. “We don’t know where the boys are, but we’re gonna find them. You gotta be strong and let me do what needs to be done to find them.”

  She jerked away from him. “What do you mean you don’t know where they are? Weren’t you and Hawk watching them? My God, what if some sicko kidnapped them?” She covered her mouth with her hand. “This can’t be happening,” she mumbled as terror overtook her face.

  “Don’t fuckin’ freak out on me. I got shit to do. We’re gonna find the boys. I need to know you’ll be okay.”

  “How can I be okay? I’m petrified!” Her voice broke and he drew her close to him and held her tight while he ran his hand up and down her back.

  “It’s gonna be fine. I’ll make it fine. You gotta believe in me,” he said in a low voice.

  All around them, people laughed, children ran, and Christmas music filled the air, but they were in their own private hell. Ethan and Emily came over.

  “What’s wrong, Mom?” Emily asked.

  Banger pulled away and guided Belle over to Emily and Ethan. “Take care of your mother. I got something to do.” He knew that every second he did nothing was a second that took his son farther away from him.

  “Where’s Harley?” Ethan asked.

  Belle covered her face and shook her head. Banger gently shoved her closer to Emily. “It’s gonna be fine. I have to go.” He walked away and went over to Hawk. “The boys are missing. Belle’s a fuckin’ basket case and I don’t blame her. I gotta get a grip. We both do. We gotta focus or this isn’t going to turn out good.” He knew he had to put a wall between his love for his son and his determination to find him. If he let emotions enter into it, he’d slip up and it may cost his son his life.

  With a face of stone, Hawk nodded. “We need to focus on getting our boys back. Cara’s convinced this fucker Garret is involved. I agree with her.”

  “How’s your woman doing?”

  “She’s trying to stay brave. She doesn’t want her parents to know anything’s wrong. But I know she’s dying inside and it’s fuckin’ killing me.” Hawk pounded his fist on the nearby table.

  Rock ran up to them. “Throttle, Axe, Tigger, and Chas were outside talking to people and several of them said they saw two men rush out of the community center dragging two boys behind them. A couple of them said that the boys were telling them to stop.”

  “What the fuck did they look like? Did they see where they went?” Banger asked.

  “When I went out to question them, they said one was medium height, kinda looked like a dirtbag, and had stringy brown hair. The other guy was wearing a suit. They said the two didn’t look like they fit together.”

  “Did they get into a car?” Hawk said.

  “A van. It’s the fucker your woman pegged.”

  Banger kicked the table over and people jumped out of the way. “We fucked this up. I fucked this up! We had him. He was here, and I fuckin’ handed my boy and yours to him. Fuck!”

  Hawk place a hand on his shoulder. “No use blaming yourself or me blaming myself. We don’t have time for that shit. We gotta find them. Now.”

  Banger let out a harsh breath. “You’re right. Get Blade over here.”

  As he waited for Rock to find Blade, he tried to focus on finding his son, but Harley’s face kept flashing in front of him, and Banger knew he’d be scared. A weight settled on his heart.

  Hang on, Harley. I’m coming to get you.

  Not finding him wasn’t an option.

  And when he did find him, Banger would tear apart the bastard who took his precious son.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The Crazed Grinch

  “We have to get out of here,” Garret said as he paced the length of the room. It was dank and smelled of stale cigarettes.

  “You need to calm down. No one knows who we are. We’re good.” The man pinched the bridge of his nose, hating the whine in Garret’s voice. He preferred working alone, but he had to enlist the help of the druggie to unload the merchandise he’d stolen at all the houses he’d broken into and to help snatch the Insurgents’ brats. He’d shown Garret where to pull the breaker switch the day before the fundraiser. He hadn’t trusted him to snatch the kids. He was afraid the dirtbag would lose his nerve, so he made sure he was the one to do it.

  And it worked out perfectly. What do you think about that, Dad? Who’s the loser now?

  “I didn’t know you were planning to take the Insurgents’ kids. You’ve fucking gone insane. There’s no way they’re not gonna find us, and when they do, we’re dead.” His face blanched and he ran his hand through his stringy hair.

  “They’re not going to find out. Anyway, I’m just messing with them. I don’t want their brats. I just wanted to make them sweat. I bet they are too.” He chuckled.

  “You’re fucking crazy, and you dragged me into this. Damn. They’re gonna kill us.” Garret resumed pacing.

  Taking out a baggie, he waved it in front of Garret. “Want something for your nerves?” He had to get the sonofabitch to stop pacing. Garret stared at the bag dangling from his hand then came over and snatched it from him. Without saying anything, he went to the corner of the room, dragging a small table behind him. Sitting on the concrete floor that had mildew cracks snaking across it, he opened the baggie.

  What a scum bag. His whole life is about getting high and finding the next fix. Pathetic. He glanced over to where the boys slept on a stained mattress against the back wall. Still knocked out. The last thing he’d wanted to hear was them whining about wanting to go home. In the morning he’d take the rascals back to town and dump them some
where, and then he’d place an anonymous call to Cara or Belle and let them know where their sons were. He didn’t want to hurt them, he just wanted to prove he could dupe the hotshot bikers. At that moment, he was enjoying the rush of accomplishment.

  He stretched out his legs on the mismatched couch and rested his head on the arm. I’ll bet the bikers haven’t told anyone about the missing kids. At the event, he’d made his apologies to everyone, telling them he must’ve eaten something that didn’t agree with him. It was his way of slipping away without drawing any suspicion. His wife didn’t give a damn about him leaving. She’d been flirting all night with one of the members of the big board. They’ll probably fuck in his car before he drops her off home. That thought only stirred disgust and contempt in him. He was over caring about who she screwed and what she did. As long as it didn’t tarnish his name, he could care less what she did.

  That night, he’d proven to himself that he could step over the line and execute a detailed plan well. He now knew that he’d be able to snuff the life out of his wife. Just thinking about it gave him an erection—something his wife hadn’t stirred in him for a very long time.

  Excitement skated through his body. That night was the turning point for him, and he intended to make the most of it.

  With a contented sigh, he closed his eyes while visions of his wife’s limp body danced in his head.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Hawk

  Blade rushed up to Hawk who stood outside the community center with several brothers.

  “What do you have?” he asked Blade.

  “I mounted a GPS tracking device to the bottom of the asshole’s van when I saw it on the street.”

  “Why the fuck didn’t the prospect tell us he’d driven over here?”

  “Banger called on all the brothers and prospects to be at the event. No one was watching him.”

  “Where the fuck is he?”

  “At a location outside of town. It’s the unincorporated part of the county. The van’s been stopped there for the last twenty minutes or so.”

  “Let’s go. I’m gonna grab Banger and some of the brothers.” Hawk motioned Banger to come over. “Blade got a reading on where this fucker is. I’m gonna grab Rock, Tigger, Tiny, and Throttle. We’ll all go in one car.”

  Nodding, Banger pulled at his beard. “Let’s roll.”

  Settled in Hawk’s SUV, the brothers sat stone-faced and silent as he steered the vehicle over the icy backroads. Inside his nerves sizzled and snapped threatening to explode, but he’d have to keep his cool in order to save his son. Thoughts of what Braxton and Harley may be going through had to be kept at bay. If he started thinking about how scared they probably were, he’d lose it, and fear and rage might make him do something stupid. He had to cool the fire in his veins with ice cold hate. Emotions had to be replaced with steely calculations. After he made sure the boys were safe, he’d let the smoldering fire in him wreak havoc on the sonofabitch who dared to kidnap his son.

  “It’s coming up,” Blade said, his voice breaking through Hawk’s concentration. “It must be down the road to the right. Do you see the dirt road over there?”

  Hawk spotted a narrow break to the side. If Blade hadn’t pointed it out, he would’ve driven right past it. Out in this part of the county, there weren’t any streetlights and blackness filled the space under a waning moon. He turned sharply, killed the headlights, and slowed way down.

  “Do you know how many are involved in this?” Banger asked.

  “No. I just know the van is here,” Blade replied.

  “We better be prepared for a battle. Maybe Chad’s pussy-assed son’s behind this,” Throttle said.

  “Reggie? I don’t think he’d have the know-how to pull this off,” Tigger answered.

  “Revenge makes you figure out a lot of shit. We offed his old man. I’m sure he wants retaliation. I know I would,” Rock said.

  Hawk gripped the steering wheel harder. “I agree with you. To be sure, four of us will go in the back and the other four will stay guard in the front. We don’t know what’s inside the house.”

  The tires crunched on the snow as they drove down the long road lined with gnarled, leafless tree limbs. In the distance, the outline of a small house came into view. As they approached, two windows in the front cast weak pools of yellow that barely lit up the ground beneath them.

  Hawk stopped. “We’ll walk from here,” he said as he switched off the engine.

  The men filed out and headed to the house. As they came up to the dilapidated abode, the van came into sight. It was parked off to the side. Banger went over to it and tried the door. It swung open. Tiny jumped in and Banger followed. Hawk stood watching them, his pulse pounding in his ears.

  A couple of minutes later, Banger and Tiny exited the vehicle. Banger rolled his shoulders. “Nothing.” His voice was tight with rage.

  “They must be inside,” Tiny said.

  “Throttle, Banger, Rock, and I will go in through the back. This place is small so I don’t think there are that many rooms. The rest of you be ready to come through the front when we call out,” Hawk said.

  “There’s a basement, but I don’t think anyone’s down there.” On his knees, Jigger looked through the windows.

  “I think they’re in the front room. It’s the only one with lights on.” Tiny pulled out a gun from the inside of his leather jacket.

  “We gotta play this slow and cool. We don’t want our kids hurt.” A sharp pain lanced Hawk’s heart, but he pushed it away and focused on getting into the house and confronting his opponent.

  Hawk and the three men walked softly toward the back of the house, his small flashlight providing the only illumination. Placing his gloved hand on the doorknob, he slowly turned it, and to his surprise, the door swung open.

  “You gotta love careless people. It makes it easy as fuck for us,” Throttle said in a low voice.

  “These stairs are damn loud though,” Rock replied.

  “Let’s wait for the heater to kick on. I’m gonna bet it’s not a new, quiet model. When I was growing up, the heater would be so fuckin’ loud when it turned on and off, and the transformer would be so damn noisy the whole time it was running,” Banger said.

  They stood waiting on the porch for several minutes and then the click and thump of the furnace pilot light catching filtered to their ears, and a loud humming noise replaced the quiet.

  “Time to roll,” Hawk said as he crossed over the threshold, Banger, Throttle, and Rock following behind him.

  A blast of heat smothered them as they stood in the middle of the small kitchen. To the right, a mouse scurried across the linoleum floor. Jerking his head toward the hallway, Hawk quietly walked out of the room. As he neared the only room with a light on, he pressed his body against the wall and inched closer toward it. Banger was next to him, his 9mm in his hand. Stopping just short of the doorway, he craned his neck and glanced inside the room. A bare bulb with a pull string was the only light in the room. Damp spots on the dingy walls, a jumbled row of what looked like paint cans, and a stack of cardboard boxes under the windows were the first things he saw from his vantage point. Extending his head a bit farther, he saw a man matching the description Cara had given him of Garret leaning against the wall rubbing and scratching his arms as his legs twitched. On the table next to him, Hawk saw an empty baggie and a rolled up bill. He glanced at Garret again, and a bolt of rage shot through him. The fucker is high. If he hurt Braxton, I’ll make sure he dies a real slow and painful death.

  Against one of the walls, he noticed a mattress. His heart pounded: Braxton and Harley lay on their sides. A chill went through him. Are they dead? The thought froze his soul.

  “See anyone?” Banger asked.

  “Yeah. I see the boys. The fucker’s tweaking out. Probably meth. Let’s go in.”

  When they entered the room, he immediately saw the mismatched furniture shoved over to the right-side of the room. A man sat up, surprise and then pani
c lacing his face. Hawk rushed over to him and grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him to his feet.

  “What the fuck did you do to my boy?”

  Banger rushed over and without warning, punched him hard in the back near the kidneys. The man howled and Hawk let go of him, satisfaction coursing through him as the man fell down on his knees, sweat pouring down his face.

  “I didn’t know they were your kids,” a high-pitched voice said behind Hawk. He whirled around and saw Rock slam Garret against the wall a few times.

  Pointing at the man on the floor, Hawk turned to Jigger. “Watch the fucker.” Banger and he rushed over to the mattress, a huge sense of relief washing over him when he saw Braxton’s and Harley’s small chests rise and fall.

  “Hey, little buddy,” he said as he knelt down and picked up Braxton. The boy’s head flopped forward and his eyes remained shut.

  “They fuckin’ drugged them,” Banger hissed as he held Harley close to him.

  Lying Braxton back on the mattress, Hawk rushed over to Garret. “What the fuck did you give them?” He bounced the wiry man against the wall.

  Tears streamed down Garret’s face. “Nothing. I swear. I didn’t know they were your kids. I’m not fucking around with you.” Pointing his finger at the man on the ground, he shook his head. “It was all his idea. I didn’t wanna do it. He’s done all this shit. He thought it’d be funny to take your kids. I didn’t know they were Insurgents.” He spoke fast and kept repeating himself.

  “I’m gonna get the other guys in here. We need to call Doc,” Banger said as he went to the front door.

  Hawk and Throttle went back over to the man crumpled on the soiled carpet. Hawk grabbed him by the collar of his dress shirt and yanked him up. “What the fuck did you give our kids?”

  “I…” He stumbled on his words. Hawk shook him hard. “Benadryl,” he mumbled.

  “What the fuck?” Throttle said.