SOLD: Jagged Souls MC

by Naomi West

  He was still being followed. That couldn’t happen. He turned back around, like he was heading away from Sara’s. Wouldn’t want to alert them where he was going. That might guarantee that someone would be sent to her place. And they might beat him there.

  He made several fast turns, shooting down alleys and little spots he knew well. The guy following him was good. Through all of it, he kept up with Saxton. But there was one factor that couldn’t be overcome, no matter how good his tail was. The guy was in a car and Saxton was on a bike.

  He rode until he got to just the place he was looking for. A little park in a small neighborhood where nothing much happened. But there were some little trails. And no place for a car. Plus, it also had several outlets that couldn’t be seen from the main road. It was all thick trees and brick walls, designed to keep the outside world out.

  Saxton tore into the park and saw the headlights behind stop when he got to the brick wall that was only big enough for pedestrians and bikes. Saxton made a turn left, then shut off his bike. He pushed it fast down another street. This one had an underpass. And the underpass had an adjoining alley that was also a bit too narrow for cars. And it was hard to see from the road because of the bridge above it and the buildings surrounding it.

  Saxton pushed his bike, with his lights off, and when he got to the alley, hopped on and sped off. After several minutes, his tail hadn’t returned. He circled around the city the long way to come back in the direction of Sara’s. It had taken far longer than he liked and as he sped down her road, he wished he’d been able to just call or text her. But phones could be tracked. And part of keeping the alibi was leaving his phone in the same location that he’d made the call from.

  He pulled into her parking lot and stashed his bike behind the dumpster, out of sight. One more glance around to make sure so one was there, no one was sitting in a vehicle, and he bolted inside. The stairs passed under his feet two at a time and his heart was already speeding by the time he reached her floor.

  Her door was closed and it looked like they were sleeping. No light under the door. He took a few breaths to calm himself. No signs of forced entry meant they were probably fine. His next challenge would be convincing her to let him in, to hear him out, to go anywhere with him. He’d been so focused on getting there and making sure she was safe that he hadn’t thought at all about how he’d convince her of anything.

  He didn’t want to wake up Ian if he was sleeping. First, Saxton tried calling for Sara through the door. He puts his lips close and said her name a few times. No response. He tapped his knuckles on the door softly. Still nothing. He knocked harder and waited. He didn’t hear any sign of anyone moving. Not even coming to check and see who was at the door.

  He knocked harder. This time, he was afraid he’d wake up the neighbors. That wouldn’t be good, either. He put his hand on the knob. He could just break in. He tried the knob and it turned in his hand.

  Instead of relief at being able to get in easily, he was immediately flooded with panic. Sara would never, ever leave the door unlocked. She was much more careful than that. He flipped on a light switch and stared down at the blood on the floor.

  In seconds, he was tearing through the place, not stopping to think that if a crime had been committed here, the last thing he should do is get his hair and fibers all over from his frantic searching.

  He’d gone through every place she or Ian could be in this tiny apartment. And God it was tiny. How did they both live here? She wasn’t there. And neither was Ian.

  He went back to the door and looked closer at the blood. Beside the door, a lamp was knocked over. It looked like there was a smear in the blood, like a foot pushing against the floor to get up or get away.

  As he stared at it, two things were certain. He’d been too late. They already had her and Ian.

  But now he had a decision to make. Did he assume it was Carter and his guys who had her? That they’d connected her to Saxton as he suspected, and had taken her for information, or to threaten him or trap him? It might all be a setup to kill him.

  Or was this guy who he’d stopped from attacking her before not related to all this? But if not, who else could it possibly be? Who would be after Sara like that? She couldn’t have any enemies. Not like he did.

  It had to be Carter and the Cruel Crows. No doubt about it. Nothing else made sense. And well, he could just go there and kill Carter on his way to finding Sara. If it wasn’t Carter, then at least he’d get that part done. If it wasn’t Carter, he had no real leads at all anyhow.

  The first place he would look was the only place he knew about in reference to the Cruel Crows—the warehouse where the auction had been held. Saxton knew Carter did business there and other things went down there, so maybe their headquarters was nearby. Maybe he’d get really lucky and Carter would be there now and it would be the place they were keeping Sara and Ian.

  He dashed down the stairs and over to his bike. When he got on and started it, he turned on the lights immediately and drove off. He hoped his tail would return now. He’d stop and confront the guy. Maybe he would have some information that Saxton could beat out of him.

  Saxton watched for him, but no one showed up. Figured. He’d done too good of a job losing him. But if they hadn’t assumed he was coming to Sara’s, was it all connected? Or they just wanted him to see the blood and know they had her.

  He drove fast, running red lights when he could and taking alternative roads when he couldn’t. He got there in record time and parked his bike a few blocks away. He didn’t want to alert them of his presence before he was ready to have them know he was there.

  He approached the building with extreme caution, staying to the shadows and hiding away from pools of light cast by the street lamps. Things were fairly quiet in this part of the city. It was now past midnight and normal people were sleeping so they could go to work in the morning. People like him were the ones still out running around the streets, doing nothing legal. And keeping it all as quiet as possible to avoid police interaction. Or possible witnesses.

  Saxton peered into a window, but it was dark inside and he couldn’t see anything except his own reflection. He walked to the next window—same thing. Once he circled the building, tried to find a way in, and made sure that every window was not only dark, but also locked or unable to open, he had a decision to make. Break in or walk away.

  If he really thought she might be in there, he could break in. If he walked away, he had no idea where to go next. It was back to asking around, trying to gather information. But somehow, he had the feeling that they wouldn’t let him go very long. If they’d done this to get to him, they’d have some way to alert him.

  So the only answer was to break in. That way, he would know for sure. Maybe there was a basement and she was down there and the light couldn’t be seen from where he’d been. He’d be sick if he had been where she was and had left because he wasn’t thorough about his search.

  He walked around to the side of the building where the dumpster was. This spot was least likely to be seen from anywhere on the street or any building next door. The warehouse was all brick and the windows were not the type that could open. He might have better luck with a door, but it also might be dead bolted and was definitely in more plain sight.

  He took off his shirt, covered his hand, and punched the glass. Not so hard it would crash right through; that would be stupid. It would make a ton of noise. He hit it just enough to make a spiderweb crack. Then, he pushed out the smallest pieces so that he could get his fingers through—still wrapped in his shirt—and pull out some of the biggest pieces. It had to be done just right or the whole thing would come crashing down, but he’d done this enough to see where to grab, and he’d punched the window low in the corner to minimize larger pieces from falling.

  He pulled the bigger pieces loose from their edges where they were still secure in the window’s caulk. There was enough room now. He put his shirt back on and slid himself through, making sure n
othing caught on any jagged edges.

  Inside, he let his eyes adjust to the dark, then started exploring. The stage was there, empty and lifeless. He recalled for a moment what Sara had looked like the first time he saw her. So nervous and scared looking, all covered up when the other ladies wore only underwear. Didn’t they see how it drove the men even more nuts, and her bidding went for so much higher? They showed too much too soon. They should take a lesson from Sara.

  Saxton wandered through the almost complete darkness, using what little streetlight came in to find the changing rooms and some back offices. He explored every inch of the building, but found no sign of Sara. He didn’t even find a locked door or anything that would lead to a basement. Most buildings like this didn’t have them anyway. It seemed this was a dead end.

  He climbed back out of the window and sat for a moment on his bike. Now what. There were a few spots he could go to see who was around, to try to get information. But when he started his bike and drove off, every spot he hit was empty. Everyone had turned in early tonight apparently.

  After five stops, there was only one place left to go. He drove off slowly, not caring now how long it took. His chest felt so heavy, he could barely breathe.

  His mind kept racing around thoughts and images. She could be hurt. The blood had come from somewhere. Was it hers? Ian’s? Or was it her attackers and she’d fought back enough to draw blood? The would be ideal. It would mean she could be somewhere hiding and safe. But that was unlikely. Sara was tough, but she was a small woman with a child to protect. Chances were, they sent more than one guy to grab them. If she had drawn blood, it probably only pissed them off more.

  How was she being held, and how was she being hurt? Had they hit her? Shot her? Stabbed her? Raped her? Where was Ian in all this? Had he been there to see it all? Had he seen his Uncle Carter hurting his mommy?

  Saxton’s gut tightened. Maybe it was good he hadn’t found Carter tonight. His anger and desperation to find Sara were too raw. He wouldn’t be able to control himself and he wouldn’t be careful. He would make mistakes in his overwhelming emotions, and that wasn’t good for him or Sara. With every minute that passed, though, his worry increased.

  What if they killed her? It would be his fault. Even more than taking forever to find Liam’s killer and avenge his death, Saxton would feel guilty over that forever. And he’d be without her. His longing for increased with his panic. He needed her now, and he needed to know she was safe. Waiting was killing him.

  But if he was right, then this was his best move. He turned into his driveway. The wrench was sitting on his doorstep. Perfect. Crasher had come. If anyone saw him in the warehouse, he’d be covered. Not that it mattered much. He didn’t need a good alibi for something like that. He hadn’t stolen anything, and one damaged window wasn’t anything the police were going to bother inspecting.

  Saxton put his bike away and went inside the house. He went right to his room. His phone was on the dresser, where he’d left it on purpose. He swallowed hard and picked it up. He pressed the button, but the screen was just his bike’s photo in the background like always. No notifications. He stared at it for a moment, then entered his password and checked for missed calls or texts. Nothing.

  He set the phone back down. Were they waiting to contact him? Or had he been dead wrong? Sara and Ian could be out there right now, needing him, being hurt or dying and Saxton had no way to know. He thought for sure there would be a message waiting for him, telling him they had Sara and where he should go.

  If they’d taken her to get to him, that was the only move that made any sense. But they hadn’t made that move. And Saxton no longer had any idea what game they were playing.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sara’s head throbbed in pain. Her shoulder was a bit sore, too, but it was nothing compared to the searing pain in her head. She blinked her eyes open and had no idea where she was.

  The room looked dingy. Like some sort of basement. Cement walls, grimy floors. She pushed herself up to a seated position. She touched her head gingerly. There was some sort of crustiness to the wound. Dried blood? Probably. She’d been hit pretty hard. Hard enough to make her black out.

  She got to her feet, ready to bang on the metal door in the corner and scream for someone to let her out. But she heard a sniffle behind her and spun around.

  “Ian!”

  He was huddled in the corner, sitting with his feet on the floor and hugging his knees, crying quietly.

  “Mommy?” he whispered.

  She ran to him and put her arms around him. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  He shook his head. “I thought you were dead.”

  His lower lip quivered and his face collapsed into sobs. She pulled him into her lap and cradled him while he cried. She stroked the top of his head. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I was hurt and was sleeping. That’s all.”

  “Who were those guys? Why did they bring us here and bang you on the head?”

  “Well, they hit my head so that they could bring us here. They knew that if I was awake, I would fight them and wouldn’t let them take us. So they had to make me to go sleep. I’m not sure who they are or why we’re here. What did they say to you? What did you see?”

  “That man hit your head and we fell down. Then they took me to the car and carried you, too. That’s when I thought you were dead. I was talking to you and you didn’t answer. They kept telling me to be quiet and stop crying. Then they put us in here and locked the door.” He pointed to the metal door to the side of the room.

  “Has anyone come in here since then?”

  He shook his head.

  “I’m going to see if we can get out.”

  She slid him off her lap and got to her feet. He sat, hugging his knees again, watching her. She went to the door and tried it. Locked, of course. But now she took a moment to inspect the room.

  The walls and floor were cold cement. Some kind of block made up the walls. She went around and pushed on them all, hoping to find one loose. They were all well secured. Not even a crack in the paint. There were no windows. The door looked pretty secure, but that didn’t stop her from trying to get it unlocked. She pried at it and picked at it. That did nothing, of course.

  There was nothing in the room to stick in the door to try to open it. Nothing to use as a weapon. Just a square cement room. Maybe it was some sort of closet? The only light came from a dusty bare bulb that hung over head. Could she break the bulb and use the sharp glass as a weapon? But that would mean taking away their only light source. And it would not only leave them in pitch black, but would cause a lot of noise. And it would give whoever came in the room an advantage because they would be coming from light into the dark room, where she was in darkness and would be blinded by light when they opened the door. That wasn’t a good option.

  What was there to do, then? Just sit and wait and hope that someone came. Someone like Saxton. She sat down beside Ian and adopted a similar position as his. The sinking sensation in her gut grew.

  The person who could help them the most, the one who would surely come rescue them if he knew, she had run from. Had hurt so badly that he’d never come and save them now. She’d threatened him and said it was over between them. He had no reason to come save them. They were all alone at the mercy of these crazy men who’d taken them for who knew what reason.

  What time was it? How long had they been there? Her stomach was so upset she didn’t feel hungry. She didn’t dare ask Ian if he was because that would only alert him to it. It probably wasn’t morning. Maybe an hour had passed. Maybe three or four. Without any sense of light, and having lost time in her black out, she couldn’t tell.

  “We should try to sleep,” she said. Being exhausted would make everything worse because she wouldn’t be able to think or move quickly.

  “There’s no bed,” Ian said, glancing around the small space as if one had appeared and he’d somehow missed it.

  “I know. You can lay on me.”

>   She brought him to her and sat with her legs out so that she was leaning against the cold, hard wall and he was against her. She wrapped him in her arms and tried to close her own eyes. There was no use. She couldn’t possibly sleep. Whatever rest she may have gotten while being knocked out was likely all she’d get.

  She thought Ian had fallen asleep after a while, but she didn’t want to move to check and risk waking him. His breathing was slow and steady. If he wasn’t asleep, at least he was content for the moment. Who knew what tomorrow would bring.

  As her mind drifted through possibilities of all that could go wrong and all the things she was meant to do tomorrow, the door swung open in one fast swoosh. She jumped at the sudden intrusion. Ian jumped when she did and rubbed his eyes.

  “Carter!” She got to her feet and held Ian close to her. “What are you doing here? Did you come to get us out?”

  He raised an eyebrow and huffed. “Get you out? I don’t think so. You’re here because I ordered you to be.”