by Joy Blood
“Got location.” His head shoots my way then to Ellie’s, pausing for a second to see how she is going to react.
“Go get her back. I don’t care what you do to the rest,” she says with a look I haven’t seen on her face in years. She might be broken up about all that is going on, but she would track whomever is responsible down and kill each and every one of them.
“Love you, baby,” I hear Vin whisper to her before he is coming my way and then following me out the front doors of the hospital. Sure enough, Rock is out front with Gin, Sage and Ringer with him in the truck.
“You get the lock on Kimi’s cell?” Rock asks, shifting the truck into gear after Vin and me climb into hi bugger than fuck ride. I nod my answer to Rock and take out my phone and let him punch it into his GPS. “Got enough weapons in the back to take down a small village, if we find the fuckers they are dead,” he explains as the GPS springs to life telling us where to go.
“She’s been gone for over twelve hours.” Vin says, stirring my fuckin’ anger all over again.
“We’ll get her back V,” Rock reassures his brother. “Anyone bothering her? Maybe an ex or something?” he questions, glancing back at me in the mirror.
“No fuckin’ boyfriend,” I grumble out but then something hits me. “Those fucks. What were their names?” I question, looking over to Vin. He nods in understanding and I get on my phone, sending out a text to Reek to get me the addresses for the two fuck wads that were harassing Kimi.
The GPS brings us to what I feared we would find, not a fuckin’ thing. Nothing but a fucking dumpster. After jumping out of the truck and making sure her body wasn’t inside, I climb back in and slam my fist on the seat in front of me, earning a glare from Gin who was sitting there. Fuck him, right now I don’t fuckin’ care.
“Where to now, VP?” Sage asks, looking to me for direction.
“Getting the ‘dress for a couple fucks,” I tell them as Rock starts to drive out of the ally the GPS brought us to. Reek wastes no time getting back to me and we are driving off to the next place. Hoping to fuck this lead pans out.
Forty-One
Kimi
“Wake up little girl.” A voice breaks into my unconscious mind, pulling it to life. Slowly my eyes start to flutter open, flinching at the harsh light in my face. I can feel a groan in my throat and burning in my eyes. Instinctively, I reach up to rub my face but find myself restrained, then the memory, followed by the panic starts to hit me. Going to pick up Ari, getting in a car wreck, Zeke and Blake… “There she is.” The same voice that woke me starts to speak again. “You have been out for some time. My boys hit you with some good stuff, didn’t they?” My boys?
“Who…” My throat scratches as I try to speak.
“Who am I? Well now, isn’t that a good question,” he says, still not letting on as to who he is. “I’m no one to you little girl, you are just a pawn. Sorry about that.” He shrugs. “You were a last-minute decision I decided to go with.”
“Who are you?” I get the words out, but they sound garbled. I don’t know what they gave me to knock me out but whatever it was, my body doesn’t like it. Along with the lack of hydration, my head is pounding to the point I think my eyes may pop out of their sockets if I were to move too fast.
“Impatient, are we? Can’t have that now, can we?” he says, calling out a name I don’t recognize. “Brock, you ready yet?” he calls out, getting nothing from whomever Brock is. He grumbles something then storms out of the room without a look back at me. That is when I take in where I am. It’s a bathroom, a public restroom. What the hell? My hands are tied behind my back and my feet are tied together too, giving me little chance for escape. I cringe when I look down at the floor and see how dirty it is.
The door swings open and in walks someone, I assume to be Brock, followed by the man who woke me up. They are both large in build with Brock being more muscled and thinner around the middle than the other guy. Neatly trimmed gray hair and beard. He would be a handsome man if he wasn’t part of kidnapping me. “Want to give her another dose for the ride?” Brock questions the other man with the bald head, short beard and round middle.
“What do you think sweetheart? You going to be good? Or should we give you another cocktail?”
“I will,” I blurt out, not wanting to go back to sleep. “I’ll be good.”
“So damn eager to please. Should make you happy there, Sans.” Brock chuckles out to the man I now know is Sans. Knowing both their names makes my stomach turn and my heart drop. I’m never getting out of this situation. If I had a chance, they wouldn’t have let me see them or know their names. This small fact tells me I’m not making it out of this alive.
* * *
Brock and Sans had taken me off the floor and brought me to the small cargo van they were driving. I had been inside a bathroom at an abandoned rest stop. Through listening to them talk to each other, I found out that the van had broken down, causing them to take refuge at the rest stop. Now, as I’m untied at the feet so I can walk from the van, I long to be back on the floor of that nasty restroom. We are in a desert, I can tell from the sand. All around us are small buildings surrounding one big one. It reminds me slightly of the clubhouse, that’s when it hits me. I’m at some kind of clubhouse. Taking a frantic look around, I catch sight of a tall wall, much like a prison wall, before I’m pulled inside the largest building. There are people everywhere, leering at me.
“Take her into the guest suite, she should be nice and comfortable in there.” I hear Sans instruct Brock, who is now pulling me through a door. Even though I’m with the brute of a man, I’m glad to be out of the large room with the prying eyes. We walk into a small hallway that leads to two doors and a set of stairs—we take the stairs. Brock’s hand clutches my elbow as he steers me up the steps to a longer hallway with four doors stretched out the length of the hall.
“Behave yourself and you might get through this,” he tells me, catching me off guard with his softer tone. He says it in almost a whisper, as if someone may be listening in on what is said between us. “Riders will come down on this place will so much fury, Flores will think the devil himself is on his doorstep,” he tells me, opening the door at the end of the hall to push me inside.
“Who is Flores?” I question, getting a glare from him.
“Need to pee?” he asks, nodding toward the small bathroom with no door on the hinges.
“Not if there isn’t a door,” I scoff.
“Suit yourself. Get on the bed.” My stomach drops at those words, just when I thought he wasn’t going to hurt me… “Not like that. Shit, girl. I’m not a fuckin’ animal.” He gestures toward my hands. “Need to tie you to the bedpost,” he explains further, nodding his head toward the small twin bed with a rusty iron headboard.
“Oh.” Is all I can get out as I do what he says. The small bed doesn’t have any sheets or blankets on it, just what looks to be stains. At least none of them look like bloodstains. I take a slight comfort in that fact. “Can I change my mind about that bathroom break?” He gets an annoyed look, but jerks his head in a nod. I let out a hushed, “Thank you,” and hurry over to the toilet, wishing like hell there was a door to hide me from his eyes. I suppose using the bathroom is better than going on myself, like whoever had been in the bed before me had. The pungent smell was worsened with every step closes to the mattress. It reminded me of my uncle’s friends who would take me as payment. They always smelled so terrible. I glance Brock’s way and see he had turned his back, granting me slight privacy.
When I’m done, I reluctantly climb up onto the bed and raise my hands for him to tie me up to the headboard. “Sit tight. Should all be over soon,” he tells me and walks out the door.
Forty-Two
Jake
“This the place? Shit it’s a sorority,” Sage says. “The bitches who took Kimi are frat boys?”
“Reek said this where they live,” I grit out, slamming my door shut.
“Got backup under t
he cover,” Rock says, going to the tailgate to open it, exposing the arsenal he brought along. I grab a pistol to tuck into the back of my jeans, hidden under my cut. Then I grab an assault rifle, for intimidation mostly. I’m not planning on going in and shooting up the place, just want to scare the living hell out of them and get the answers we need.
We decide to just go up and open the door. It is a frat house, people come and go as they please. The handle turns to let us in, as expected, and we walk on in to find a few guys playing some stupid drinking game, not even noticing that five bikers and one scary as hell scarred up mother fucker have walked into their house. Not until I let out a shot that takes out a big screen TV hanging on the wall. You would think that we walked into a room full of women from the screams that let out as they all drop to the floor and cower like bitches. “Listen up, motherfuckers,” Rock shouts out to the room, “we are lookin’ for Zeke Mandel and Blake Garrison. Point us in their direction and none of you bitches will leave here in a body bag.”
“They aren’t here,” one shouts out from the floor causing me to walk his way and put a gun to the bastard’s head. “Honest man. They’re gone. Zeke’s dad showed up yesterday and they both left with him,” the guy explains, nearly pissing himself on the floor.
“You catch his dad’s name?” Sage questions, walking toward us.
“Dean. His name is Dean. Please don’t kill me, man.” Tears are now streaming down the boy’s face onto the carpet.
“Dean?” Sage gives me a side glance “You catch a last name?” he questions but the boy shakes his head.
“I don’t know man,” he cries out and I press the barrel of the rifle further into his temple.
“Saunder. His name is Dean Saunder,” another one of the guys says, making my head snap his way. “I overheard him say he had a job for them both,” he divulges. “I don’t know what, though.”
“Dean fuckin’ Saunder.”
“Sans,” I croak out, looking over to Rock, then back down at the boy on the floor. “Where’s Sam?” I ask, needing to know what happen to the football player that showed up at our gate one day wanting to prospect.
“Sam? Rogers? I haven’t seen him, he didn’t come in last night.” Fucking hell. Might have got the kid killed. I can’t think of that right now.
“As fun as this has been boys, we need to bounce. Just in case you need to be told, we were never here. Got that?” Rock calls out, getting nods and some vocalized yes-es from the kids on the floor. We leave them all laying there and walk out the front door back to Rock’s truck.
“That fucker Sans has a kid?” Sage questions, as we climb back into the truck.
“Didn’t know shit about that,” Rock informs us. “Get on the phone to Reek. We need a location.” I’m already on it, texting him the new-found information. He wastes no time getting back to me saying he’s on it.
“He’s getting it. Ellie say if she woke up yet?” I question Vin as he looks down at his phone.
“No. Still out.” He shakes his head but I can tell something is on his screen he doesn’t want to share. Before I can question it my phone pings with a text from Reek.
Reek: Zeke Mandel belongs to Saunder. His mom lives in the town over, not too far from SDU. Could be a possible hiding spot for him. Got a lock on that prospect too. Not good.
The location for Sam’s phone is right in the middle of a lake on the outskirts of town. Fucking hell. I probably did get the fucker killed. I relay the information to the guys and we decide to split up. Sending Ringer and Sage to see if they can’t find Sam in my truck and the rest of us to see if Blake and Zeke are at the mother’s house.
* * *
It takes us about a half hour to get to the address Reek gave me for the mom’s place. When we pull up, we find the truck, that is registered in Zeke’s name, parked out front. Stupid asshole. Gin and Vin go to the back door to make sure they don’t sneak out on us while Rock and I go in through the front door. It’s quiet for a minute then we hear a thump on the upstairs floor, signaling us as to where they are. I take a glance back at Rock who nods toward a set of stairs and we advance. Guns drawn, we walk up the stairs. It isn’t hard to figure out where they are, the smell of pot lingers in the air the closer we get to one of the closed doors. Rock makes the signal to break down the door and I nod. Going for the door with my heavily booted foot and with one swift kick, the door flies open and we hear another scramble. This one coming from the closet. Couple of high mother fuckers trying to hide. Not such a good idea.
I’m on the closet door in seconds, ripping it open before Rock can say anything. A gunshot rings out and blinding pain slices through my ribcage. This only pisses me off more and I go for the asshole with the gun before he can get another shot off. “Pricks,” I rasp out, taking the gun and unloading it. I grab the one who shot it by the hair and toss him to the floor, giving him a swift kick to the ribs, the same fucking place he shot me. Damn it. I take my hand down to try and apply pressure, but the fucking blood is pouring from my body faster than I can get sat on the bed.
“Fucking hell. VP, you good?” Rock asks, while keeping his gun trained on the two assholes. I can only give a slight nod. The weight of ten thousand pounds is coming down on my chest, and I’m finding it harder to breathe. This was a huge fuck up on my part and now I’m paying for it.
“The fuck was that a gunshot?” Gin asks as he bursts through the door to find me now collapsed on the bed. “Shit,” he calls out, coming to my side to assess the wound. “Can you breathe?” he asks. The small head shake I give him is barely there. “Fuck.” He jumps up and storms over to the prick on the floor. “You got five seconds to tell me where to find a straw or something around here.” Gin’s gun pulled on the kid’s head, ready to pull the trigger.
“D-d…down st…stairs. In the drawer by the f-f…fridge,” he stutters out, and Vin runs out of the room to find what was requested.
“First aid kit?” he questions.
“Bathroom. Down the hall.”
“Get these bitches to talk,” Gin grits out as he goes running out of the room. Shit is starting to get darker, but I hang to it, even with the shallow breaths. I can barely hear Rock question Zeke and Blake about where and what they did with Kimi. I can’t hold on enough to make out what is being said. Gin is back by my side, stripping off my cut and ripping open my shirt to expose my side. “Gotta get you some air, Jakey Boy. Then you’ll be able to breathe. Don’t you fuckin’ die on me.” He pours what smells like alcohol on me, then takes something from his pocket. “Goin’ to fuckin’ hurt like a bitch.” He looks behind him as Vin comes back into the room taking something from his hand. What happens next hurts more than the mother fucking gunshot. Gin slices me open all the way into the side of my ribcage then jams in the straw Vin brought him. My lungs inflate immediately, and I suck in a much-needed breath.
“Fucking hell,” I rasp out, pulling in as much air as I can through the pain.
“Jesus, where the fuck did you learn to do that?” Vin asks, making Gin chuckle.
“Watched some Grey’s Anatomy episodes,” he says, like it is no big deal.
“Christ, you’re crazy, G,” Vin grumbles, then looks at me. “Want ‘em dead?” he asks, referring to the guys who are both down on the floor, cowering under Rock’s unwavering gun. Shit, I damn near forgot about them. I give a head shake. “All right.” He sounds dejected, but I know he will get to pull the trigger soon enough.
“Lucky day, boys,” Rock says. “Why don’t the both of you get back in that closet.” He jerks the gun in the direction then back to them. They both jump up and do as he says, shutting the door behind them as they go. Rock pulls over a large dresser in front of the doors then starts back my way. “Let’s get him in the truck and to a fuckin’ hospital. Got to get that bullet out.” I start to protest, but Gin stops me.
“Don’t try to fuckin’ argue. I might be good, but I know you will bleed out in seconds if I try to get it out on my own,” he says, goin
g for my shoulder while Vin goes for my feet.
“Can fuckin’ walk.” I try, but only get told to shut the fuck up. So I relent, and let them pick me off the bed and start down the stairs. That is when the blackness starts to take over again. I hear Gin bite out a curse about me losing too much blood.
“We need to get him the fuck outta here and fast.” Gin says, their words sound like I’m listening underwater. Then, in my next breath, I’m under water. Being pulled down, down until…
Blackness.
Forty-Three
Jake
Blinking my eyes open I find I’m in a hospital bed, hooked up to all sorts of machines. The memory of what happened comes crawling back to me and I force myself up to a sitting position, my hands instinctively going for the pain in my chest. It's dulled from the clod fluids being pumped through the IV threaded into my vein. Pinching my finger over the top of my hand, I pull out the IV and let the tube fall to the floor. The hospital gown flies open in the back, exposing my bare ass as I get myself to my feet. I need to find some fuckin’ clothes.
My eyes dart around the room, finding my clothes in a plastic bag sitting on a shelf. One step at a time, I walk over to empty the bag labeled with my name. The contents fall out onto the countertop. Everything looks to be there except the t-shirt I was wearing. And my fuckin’ cut. I’ll worry about that later. Tossing the boxer briefs aside, I pull my jeans on and fasten them, tucking my wallet and phone into the pockets. Next, I rip off my gown to inspect my gunshot wound. The bandage has a slight amount of blood soaked through, so I rip it off, and a five-inch, stitched-up gash greets me. Then I notice another bandage, this one from the cut Gin made to stick the straw in my side. That bandage looks good, but I rip it off anyway. The slice there isn’t as long and is sewn up perfectly, much like the bullet wound. I wonder briefly how long I’ve been here when someone comes bustling through the door. I stand still, waiting for them to notice I’m not in the bed. The woman, who I’m guessing who is a nurse, does a double take of the bed then turns to see me standing behind her. She gasps and drops the stuff she was holding.