by J. L. Drake
“So, now what?” Rail tossed a rock into a soup can. “If only the mole would show himself.”
Both men went silent, and it took me a moment to realize they were staring at me.
“You know, don’t you?” Brick leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees.
Rail took a long drag from his cigarette before he looked down at the ground.
“Just tell me if it’s Morgan.”
The club was our fucked-up family, but it was our family, so the idea of someone betraying us weighed heavily on all our shoulders.
“Vineyard!” A guard shouted. “Step up to the fence.”
Shit, what now?
Somehow, I avoided the hole and was allowed back in with the general population after three days of isolation. I lost my shit after Sam notified me that Felicia had put out a missing persons report for Tess. Her bitch of a mother just wanted to get her hands on what was mine. Sam assured me that Cray was handling it, but it still didn’t help with the rage inside. If Felicia got to Tess first, who knew what could happen to her. She had killed before, and I was sure the thought had crossed the bitch’s mind countless times. She probably thought Clark was with Tess, and that would make her fucking wild.
***
Tess
With shaky hands, I ripped open the sugar packet and dumped it in the hot coffee.
“Anything else?” The young waitress looked worried as she shifted her weight onto her other hip.
I shook my head and stared out the window. The last three days had been hell, and I wasn’t sure where to go from here.
“Where you headed?” the toothless driver asked.
“Anywhere but here.”
She brushed her greasy hair out of her face. “I’m heading northeast. You wanna go that way, I could use the company.”
It was hard to describe her unnerving smile, but what choice did I have? And when was the next person going to come by, and how did I know they weren’t connected to Allen?
I felt them closing in on me, so I jumped up and pulled on the handle of the rig door. The truck bed was littered with Jack in the Box bags and AM/PM coffee cups.
“Be careful with that one.” She pointed to the bag next to my feet. “Might be some chicken nuggets left. I like ’em cold and chewy.”
I tried to hide my disgust—not that I was better than she was. Shit, I’d eaten worse food before, but Jack in the Box turned into mystery meat the next day.
“You want some?” She nodded down at the open container of Fluff. A fly buzzed around the lid and landed on the rim.
“I’m good.”
She extended her hand, and I saw two of her fingers were missing. “Name’s Dela, as in Delaware. It’s where my momma birthed me.”
I shook her hand. “Tess.”
Dela took the corners of the winding roads with great speed, and a few times I had to reach out and grab the “holy shit” handles.
“You wanna tell me why you look like Julie James?”
My brows rose in confusion as I slid across the seat like a passenger on a fishing boat.
“I Know What You Did Last Summer, the 1997 thriller flick.”
“Never seen it.” I glanced down at my ripped jean shorts and the tank top that was slicked to my skin.
“I love them thrillers. Gets my blood pumpin’. So?”
“So?”
“You in the woods, shoes that ain’t yours, no purse, no nothin’. You in some kinda trouble?”
I leaned my head against the seat and took a deep breath. Where the fuck to begin? “You have a phone I could use?”
She spit her chew into a paper cup before she pulled a cell phone from the visor.
Eagerly, I plucked it from her fingers, only to draw a blank on anyone’s number.
Shit.
“Who you tryin to call?”
“Helmond’s bar.”
“Where’s that?”
“Santa Monica.”
She cackled. “I don’t have long distance.”
I stopped to take in my surroundings—lush green forest, cold crisp air, clouds moving in.
“Where are we?”
“St. Louis.”
What?
“What can I get you?” The waitress pulled me from my thoughts. She tried not to stare, but who wouldn’t? “Tony out back makes a mean pie.”
I eyed the few dollars I had left and contemplated.
“You know,” she lowered her voice, “I just so happen to have an order of eggs and toast goin’ to waste back there. Tony added cheese, and I can’t eat cheese. I was gonna toss it, but if you’d like it…”
I smiled and pushed away my pride.
“That would be nice, thank you.”
“Let me go grab it.”
I sank back into a daze.
Everything blurred as her words sank in. How the hell did I not know I was being taken across country? Was I drugged?
I could feel my body starting to shut down, the magnitude of what happened settling in.
“Here.” Dela handed me an old blanket. “Next stop, Nashville.”
What Dela failed to mention was she liked to stop a lot and meet up with old friends. Since she was an independent trucker, she adjusted her timelines and marched to her own drum. However, by the end of day two, I’d had enough of sitting in her truck waiting for her to finish. I hadn’t showered in God knew how many days, and my leg was surely infected, as it was angry-looking and hurt like hell. I needed to find a phone ASAP. Plus, if I had to smell any more Jack in the Box, I thought I’d turn vegan.
My head was killing me, and I was beyond stressed about the club, Trigger, and Gus.
I climbed back over the seat and opened the little door to Dela’s cabin. I had slept in the front seat the night before.
The smell of pot hit me like a brick wall. I even coughed at the strength. Shifting to sit on the bed, I started to open the cabinets, hoping to find some painkillers.
“What the…” I blinked at the naked photos of her and random men. She had an AK47 pointed at one of them, with a collar hanging off her neck. In another, she had a sheet of plastic over someone’s face. She was smiling and had a crazy look in her eye.
Fuck that.
I shoved a bag of pot in my pocket, took the spare cash from her center console, and snagged the phone. As I was about to leave, I turned back and grabbed her flip flops and sweater.
I wanted to feel bad for what I did, but I didn’t. The streets had already shown me it was all about survival, and survival was about taking opportunities when you saw them.
That night, I walked to a nearby gas station and locked myself in their outside bathroom. Other than the glory hole, it wasn’t in that bad of shape.
I hitchhiked my way to the nearest diner, where I finally was able to find some warm coffee.
“Here.” The waitress placed a plate of heavenly-smelling eggs in front of me. “I had him warm it up.”
“Thank you.” I was starving. “Oh, hey.” Bacon rolled around my tongue, and I thought I might moan. “You happen to have a computer I could look up a number?”
She looked over her shoulder toward the kitchen before she reached for an iPhone from the counter.
Where in the hell did I start? I frantically searched my brain but came up empty. So instead, I Googled “US Army” and started there. Forty minutes and four frustrating phone calls later, I was passed off to some guy named Frank.
“Frank.” His tone was clipped and slightly annoyed. At least I knew we were on the same page.
I stumbled. “Hi, I…ah, I’m not sure how to start this.”
“Feel free to start at any time.”
My back went up. “Oh, sarcasm. Now you’re speaking my language.” I took a breath. “I need to get in touch with Savannah Logan.”
Silence.
“Why?”
“I need her help.”
I heard something close. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“I didn’t give it to
you.”
“Will you now?”
I glanced around the empty diner. “Will you help me if I do?”
“You have my attention, so my guess would be yes.”
Please be the right move.
“Tess,” was all I offered.
Silence again.
“As in Tessa Marin?”
Shit.
“How do you know my last name?”
“You would be surprised what I know. Give me a moment. Don’t hang up.”
***
Allen
Gus was in the corner of the kitchen, propped up on a bench. He could barely lift his hand to eat. If he hadn’t attempted to intervene last night, he might still be up and walking. But no, he had tried to throw us off Tess’s scent by pulling his own little stunt. I couldn’t believe the little bitch escaped. The storm had knocked out my cameras, and it wasn’t until later that I got the alerts she was gone. I had an idea of who might have helped her, and I eyed the young prospect, but I couldn’t be sure, as I also knew his sister was more important than Trigger’s little fuck.
The sound of a baby crying had me whirling toward the TV, haunted by the last time I heard a scream like that.
I was slumped in the orange and blue chair. I ran my finger along the stains that dotted the pattern, proof of my numerous fucks. The Everlast punching bag dangled from the living room ceiling. It was the only thing I remotely cared about.
I crushed the beer can and tossed it on top of the pile on the couch then stuck my hand into my pants for some relief. My eyes started to close, and I felt myself drift off once again into a buzzed stupor when a loud knock woke me.
“Go away!” I growled.
The knock came louder and longer.
I swung my feet up to help me rock out of the chair, but I tipped over the bottle of whiskey in the process. Amber liquid flowed across the carpet.
“Shit!” I snatched the bottle and took a swig. The dog could clean up the spill. The knock came again, and I swung open the door to find a woman holding a baby.
“What?” I squinted at the bright sun. “You know what time it is?”
She looked over her shoulder and back at me. Her skin was pocked, her arms lined with track marks.
“You ’member me?” She shifted the infant in her arms.
“Depends. You go down on me or did we fuck?” I took another swig from the bottle.
“Sadly, we fucked, and I told you about him.” She dropped a bag at my feet. “I can’t do this anymore. All his info is in the bag. I don’t have the money to feed him or a place to keep him.”
“What?” I couldn’t keep up with her words as she spoke so fast, and she started to cry, which pissed me off. The booze made me fuzzy and clouded my head.
“I’m sorry, Nolan.” She kissed his head and pressed his cheek to hers. “I didn’t want to do this, but I have no choice.” She wrapped the blanket tight around him and shoved him in my arms, knocking my whiskey bottle to the floor. It shattered, drawing my attention to it, and when I looked back up, she was halfway down the street, and I was left with a fucking baby.
“Well, find it!” I heard Zay shout from the other room. He was pissed at the IT nerds we had hired to try to break past the firewall the Devil’s Reach had in place. Trigger had blocked me years ago, but there was always a way in. I needed a copy of the Serpents’ contract, and those fuckers had run out of town and scattered, so it was hard to locate them. If I couldn’t find out how Trigger was shipping his coke, I was screwed.
I needed coke badly. The guns were proving to be too hard to move. My debt with the cartel was growing by the day, and my deadline was getting uncomfortably close. Once Trigger knew I was back and was responsible for the zig-zag on his coke orders, I assumed he was just getting rid of what he had been sitting on. Shit, that ended any opportunity I might have had to score in that direction.
Fuck me, I had clients with a shit-load of money but no goddamn blow!
“You can’t type faster?” Zay hissed.
Enough.
I grabbed my glasses, raced into the room, and jabbed their plastic arms into both eyes of the lead IT kid. He screamed and flopped to the floor as his hands flew to his ruined eyeballs. I turned to the other three IT nerds and pointed at each one of them slowly.
“If you can’t break into that firewall by the end of the week, I will make sure you never see again either.”
I glanced at Zay, who rubbed his head. He wasn’t one for how I dealt with shit, but he’d get over it. He always did.
“She’s been spotted at the clubhouse,” Fox huffed as he tried to catch his breath. He was sweaty, and he badly needed to lose weight, but Fox wasn’t going to last very much longer anyway.
“If you didn’t swallow everything in sight,” I muttered, “you might have been able to finish your damn job on her in the desert.”
He flinched. “I improvised and told her to make sure Trigger kept the drugs moving. Anyways, it was dark, and I wasn’t able to hear Tiago coming until it was too late.”
“Too busy feelin’ up something that wasn’t yours.” Zay snickered.
“Don’t see you stickin’ it to her either.” Fox spat at his feet, and Zay tossed a right hook. Fox was flung back into the computers, sending shit everywhere.
“Zay,” I kicked the now blind IT kid who had fallen into shock, “get rid of him. Fox,” I blocked his way when he went to leave, “get your fat ass to California and get rid of that fucker Links.”
Chapter Four
Trigger
“I always wanted to know what it would be like to fight the unstoppable cocaine king,” Inmate number 5768048 said quietly before he turned and spat in my face. I never cared enough to learn his name. I just knew he went after Rail. Therefore, a point must be made.
My jumpsuit was folded down over my hips so my torso was exposed. The rain pelted off the tops of my shoulders and raced across my chest, creating a slick surface for when the fucker grabbed at my waist. He was predictable; they all were.
He reached to stab me in the gut, but I knocked the four-inch blade from his grip. He twisted, grabbed my middle, and slammed me back into the cement wall. The impact felt great, exactly what I needed to awaken the starving demons.
Before I went for his thigh to crush the muscle, I tilted my head and made eye contact with the guard whose trust I’d gained the other day. He monitored the yard that week. With a slight nod, he assured me with his fingers I had six minutes.
Perks of the weak.
The asshole yelped and buckled under the pressure, and once he was down, I bent at the knee and slowly sank my shin into his windpipe using my body weight. His eyes bulged, and his hands clawed at me, but he couldn’t get a grip, and he couldn’t push me off.
I scanned the perimeter. The inmates in Block C watched, and their hands waved from the bars in the windows. My gaze went along the gutter that was unable to keep up with the rainfall, followed it to the corner, and stopped twenty feet from the ground.
I pulled him to his knees and dragged his nearly unconscious body across the yard to the heavy flow of rain that poured from the gutter. He started to wave his arms around when I pinned his head face-up between my knees. He bucked and choked on the water as it filled him to the brim. His rapid heartbeat slowed beneath the pads of my fingers, and his struggles weakened.
The light from his soul started to dim, so I leaned forward over him and blocked the rain so it poured around us like a curtain, cutting us off from the world.
I slapped his face and saw the light shine slightly brighter. He was still there. I just needed him to hear me.
“I’m untouchable, behind bars or not.” I grabbed his throat and shook him back to me again. I held his gaze for a moment longer. “Never go after one of my men again.” Then I let him drop and raced around the corner and through the kitchen where a dry jumpsuit waited for me.
“We good?” Brick asked under his breath as he slapped mashed potatoes on a plate. He
tossed it at Rail, who gagged over the green beans he was in charge of.
“Yeah.”
The siren blasted through the speakers, and the guards started to yell.
Here we go.
***
“You play with fire, you’re gonna get burned.” Sam glanced out of the corner of his eye and nodded at the guard who was listening to us.
“So, I get burned.”
“Trigger, the judge is leaning toward three life sentences. Stop playing with your life here.”
“Sounds to me I may not have a life to care about.”
Sam shook his head. He looked beat, but he wasn’t in here, so I couldn’t have cared less. He had one job to do and he fucking sucked at it.
“Tess?” I changed the subject. I didn’t get caught, and I wouldn’t. Just like I didn’t go to the hole. I had power here.
Sam pushed his chair back and waved at someone. A strange feeling crept over me as my trust in him was suddenly shaken. Sam had never brought anyone to the jail before because that was my rule.
My gaze shot to the man standing in front of me. He waited for me to give him permission to sit. I gave a tight nod.
Sam handed him the receiver, and I waited to hear what he had to say.
“Good?” he rasped.
I didn’t respond.
“Okay.” He pulled out a file and held it up for the guard to see as he pressed a small piece of paper up against the glass. In black Sharpie was a single word. Tennessee.
My fingers twitched with mixed emotion.
Morgan’s face dropped, and the stress lines embedded around his eyes deepened. “I had to try.”
I rubbed my beard and tugged it a few times while I allowed the shadow of betrayal to fall from my shoulders. He had done what I asked and got a goddamn answer.
“And?”
He shook his head. “Someone said they heard a trucker picked up a girl on the side of the road. Said she wouldn’t talk, just wanted a ride and to use the phone. When the trucker went to use the bathroom, she robbed her and took off.” Morgan matched my grin. That’d be Tess. “Seems even the devil can’t hold that little tiger down.”