CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I love how you think you have your private little vices. Like, I don’t know you watch everything Paul Hollywood is in as soon as it comes out or that you secretly read romance books. I know he’s on your list of five. Hell he might be the only one on it.
~Text from Grant to Erik
Erik
Yesterday morning was not fun. My head seemed to have a death metal concert going on that I had no control over. Luckily I was comforted by the fact that Asher and Ry looked worse than I did. Grant took care of me, making me coffee and demanding I drink a ton of water along with some aspirin. He must have sweet-talked Linnea and Anna because they both came over with a rib-sticking breakfast of biscuits and gravy, scrambled eggs, sausage, and home fries.
I think that might be the last time I tie one on like that. I think I’ll stick to beer with the occasional wine, maybe one drink of whiskey, but that’s it. It just takes way too long to recover now. I wasn’t fit to be out in the world till nearly dinner time.
Thankfully, today, I’m back to normal and going to indulge in catching up with my Paul Hollywood addiction before I head over to Romona’s for lunch and to go over things with her. Grant’s gone to work at the shop. He’s been working more while Mick was first helping Madison get home and recover, then spending some quality time as a family when Mikayla came home. He’s starting back full-time next week I think, but it’s been interesting with Grant being the one to work with Saxon during this part of his internship. Think father and son are a lot alike and neither see that at all.
Back to my baking show. Oh, hush, you know you watch for him as much as the baked deliciousness on the screen. I have to admit I like Pru more than Mary, and the newer hosts crack me up, especially that Alison chick. Yes, I fucking know that much about the show. If I start now, I should be able to get through this week’s whole episode before I need to leave.
***********
I was going to take the truck, but when I texted Romona, she let me know that what she was going to give me wasn’t that big since Mick and I already had his tools and such. It’s another beautiful, partly sunny day in the PNW and even though it’s slightly chilly, I’m gonna take my bike and take the long way to her place.
I’ve been riding for about twenty minutes, when I notice a vehicle behind me. It looks like one of those old-school vans, the ones people in my generation like to refer to as a shaggin’ wagon. It’s not super close, but I could swear it’s turned every time I have. About a mile further down the road, I turn onto Westside Highway, knowing that I can go faster around the curves if they are following me. They turn behind me and seem to speed up, almost riding my ass. What the fuck? I know the next few bends are coming up, and I should be able to lose them. I speed up, pushing my bike to a speed I normally would never do on this windy road.
I make it through the next couple of bends and look behind me, not seeing the van anymore, but fuck if I’m going to slow down now. I get maybe a mile down the road to one of the few straight parts of this road and gun the engine. I look in my rearview mirror, and the fucker is catching up behind me. How the fuck can a van that old go that fast? I look back and see they’re almost on my bumper. I know more curves are coming up, but I can’t take them at this speed, but if I slow down, they’re gonna run me off the road. Who in the fuck is in the van?
I slow down to take the first, and I barely keep the bike under control. My saving grace is I know the van would have had to slow down, though I can hear its tires screeching. I make it through the next couple of curves and I know there’s a turn I can make that I should get to before they get to the straight. I speed to it and take it faster than I should, but manage to stay upright. I think I might have lost them as I drive for another mile or so and don’t see any van behind me.
I hurry and speed the next couple of miles toward Romona’s place, keeping one eye on my rearview mirror.
I’ve made a number of extra turns just in case and not seen one glimpse of the van.
I pull up to the last light and stop since it’s red.
I have less than a mile to make it to Romona’s.
A small car pulls up behind me at the light, but it looks like a basic Toyota Camry.
All of a sudden, I’m grabbed from behind.
I fight against whoever the fuck has me, but whoever it is, is built like a brick wall.
Someone grabs my feet, and I’m hauled back behind the sedan to a different van.
I kick the guy holding onto my feet, and I knock him back, but before I can do anything else, a cloth is stuffed in my face, and everything goes black.
TAZ
I watch as Lennie hauls in the fucker who we’ve been trying to grab for a while into the van. Smitty covered his mouth with the cloth and knocked him out with a hit to the fucker’s head. Finally, it’s fucking time to get some answers and get what I want. Hell, with this new agreement that just transpired over the weekend, just taking care of this fucker will get us even more money. Time to get information and find out where the fuck that box is. I didn’t play nice with that crazy old fucker for nothing, and I want my fucking money.
Grant
I’m working on a sketch for a client that’s coming in tomorrow while Saxon is practicing next to me. We don’t have an appointment till later, and Monday walk-ins tend to be rare. I’m putting the finishing touches on the drawing when the door chimes alerting someone just came in. I look and see Mick standing there. “Hey, you. What are ya doing here? I thought you were taking a few more days off?”
He nods. “I was, but apparently, I’m underfoot. Madison told me to get out of the house for a couple of hours. I may or may not have accidentally woken Mikayla up by taking her picture while she was sleeping.”
I can’t help but shake my head. “Never wake a baby when they’ve just gone down. I think every dad has to learn that one the hard way once.”
He starts to say something back when my phone rings, interrupting our conversation. I reach across the table to grab it, and I’m surprised to see who’s calling me. “Romona, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
The worry in her voice immediately puts me on edge. “Um, have you heard from Erik?”
I shake my head as I answer, even though she can’t see me. “No. He was at home when I left, but I thought he was going over to your place today?”
“Yeah, he was supposed to be here over an hour ago. He’s not answering his phone, either. I was hoping he’d gotten caught up in something with you. Honestly, I’ve got a bad feeling in my gut and it’s worrying me something fierce.”
Worry starts to fill my body. “No, I’ve been at the shop all morning. I’m gonna try and call him and run by the house to see if he’s there. I’ll call you back.”
I hang up with her and look at Saxon and Mick who both obviously overheard my part of the conversation.
Saxon, standing up from the table, asks me, “What’s goin’ on, Dad?”
I start moving shit around looking for my keys. “Erik was supposed to be at Romona’s over an hour ago for lunch and he hasn’t shown up. She said his phone is going straight to voicemail.”
As I continue trying to find where the hell I put my keys, Mick says, “Yeah, it’s just ringing. Let me try his work cell.”
I see him messing with his phone. “Shit. That goes straight to voicemail.”
“I need to go check the house. Where the fuck are my keys?!”
Saxon has his keys in his hand and tosses me mine. “I’ll drive. I got my truck. Let’s go.”
Mick tells me he’ll close up and call Jeremiah and Leif to see if they’ve heard from him. I follow Saxon out to his truck and we both get in fast and he pulls out as soon as he starts it up. I send out a text to Jonah, Wyatt, Jackson, and Jon to see if any of them have heard from Erik.
Me: Anyone hear from Erik this morning? He was supposed to be at Romona’s over an hour ago and he hasn’t shown up and he’s not answering either of his cell phones.
I start getting answers almost immediately. Luckily, our house is only a five-minute drive from the shop.
Jonah: No I haven’t talked to him today at all. Do you need us?
Jackson: Wyatt’s with me and neither of us have heard from him.
Jon: Haven’t heard from him and he hasn’t been by the shop. Need us to get some brothers to the house?
Me: Saxon’s driving us to the house now, we’ll be there in a minute. I’ll let you know if he’s there.
Please be there. This dread has settled in my gut, and I’m really hoping I’m wrong and he’s at home. Saxon pulls up, and I’m out of the truck before he’s even in park. I see his truck is in the driveway, but don’t see his bike out, which it was earlier if I’m remembering right. Shit. I run to the back door and it’s locked. I unlock it and run inside. “Erik! Babe! You home?”
I run through the house, seeing his coffee cup in the sink and his reading glasses, the ones he’s always forgetting, on the coffee table in the living room. I run to our bedroom and the bathroom. Everywhere I see signs he was here earlier and that he’s comfortable and settled in, but not a sign he’s here now. There’s also no sign of a struggle anywhere. I hear someone coming through the front door, and I walk back out into the hallway. Saxon is standing by the front door. “His bike ain’t in the garage, and it looks like he took it out this morning. The ground in front of the garage has his tire tracks, and they look fresh.”
What the hell is going on? I look at my phone and dial his number with no luck again. I dial the number I need next. Jonah doesn’t mince words when he answers. “He there?”
“No, he ain’t here, and there’s no sign of a struggle. His truck is here, but his bike is gone. This kinda day, it’s no surprise. We need to go out and retrace the way he could’ve gone to get to Romona’s and see if we can find anything.”
Jonah does what he does best.
“You have Saxon drive you. I’ll call Jon and get him to get brothers out there looking. I’ll have Ry and Juan start looking at cameras around to see if they can find anything. We’ll find him, brother.”
I tell him to keep me updated, and Saxon and I run back to his truck. Where the fuck is he?
Erik, please be okay.
Erik
I wake up and have a pounding headache. It takes me a minute to realize it’s not because I still have a hangover. I open my eyes and see I’m in a dark room, in a chair. I move to rub my eyes, but my hands are tied down. Everything comes crashing back, and I remember fighting with some behemoth of an ogre to let me go. I try to adjust, and both my legs are tied to the legs of the chair. Well shit.
I look around the room and see there are a few chairs but not much else. The floor isn’t even concrete, but a dirt floor. There’s a very small window on one of the walls, but I don’t think my calf could even fit through it. Not to mention, it’s like six feet off the ground. Something about this room seems a little familiar but I’ll be damned if I know why.
I’m still assessing my headache when the door opens, and a smarmy, skinny-looking guy walks into the room. He looks like he’s a couple of days overdue for a shower with his ginger hair looking stringy and in need of a cleaning. Two other men follow him in, one probably close to a foot taller than the one standing in front but probably weighing maybe one fifty, soaking wet. He’s got to be the human definition of a string bean. The last guy looks almost normal. He also looks like he wants to be anywhere else but here.
Mister-needs-a-shower sits across from me and gives me a grin that can only be described as creepy. I see on the cut he’s wearing, it reads President . How the hell did this guy become president of anything? He says, “You have any idea why you're here?”
I don’t speak. If I learned nothing from all those crime shows I watched over the years, speaking up rarely ever ends up benefiting the captured.
He huffs and continues. “You might recognize your accommodations from earlier in your life, a blast from the past, if you will.”
I don’t respond because he seems to have loose lips and maybe he’ll just share everything.
String Bean walks up to me. “You’re gonna fucking speak up when he asks you a question, or things are going to get more painful.”
Yeah, he doesn’t scare me. I’m not sure he could knock over anyone with his skinny stature. He smacks my cheek, and I think my sister hit me harder when we were kids.
“So let’s try this again. Do you have any idea why you’re here or where we’ve brought you?”
I still don’t say anything. He looks annoyed, but he quickly schools his face. “No one knows you’re up here, so I’ve got all the time in the world to get you to speak. I’m gonna go get something to eat and have a beer. Spade here is gonna stay here and watch you in case you change your mind about talking. When I come back, I’m gonna bring Brander with me. He’s eager to show you how he got his road name.”
Fuck. This isn’t gonna go well.
Grant
We’ve been looking for over an hour. Some brothers have taken the main roads and others have taken some of the back roads. Saxon suggested we go and try to work backwards and go from Romona’s house. Jeremiah joined us and is on his bike in front of us. We just left her place again to try another route, and Jer just made a turn to go in a direction that I never thought about going. Saxon must be just as surprised. “I didn’t even know you could get back to town this way.”
I shake my head. “Me either, but this must connect with Westside Highway. It seems like every road out here does.”
We’re only on the road for a couple more minutes before Jeremiah pulls over. Saxon pulls in behind him and I hop out as Jer runs across the road to the ditch on the other side. I run after him and see it as soon as I reach the other side. Erik’s bike is in the ditch on its side. “Oh fuck!”
We both get in the ditch and start looking the bike over. I can hear Saxon on the phone. He’s got to be updating everyone.
“It doesn’t look like he crashed, I mean, there’s no damage that looks like it would’ve been caused by him crashing and laying out the bike.”
He’s right, there are no scrapes or broken parts on it. In fact, it looks almost perfect. “It looks like it was just rolled into the ditch and landed on its side. Let’s look around to see if we see anything that might give us a fucking clue as to what happened and to where the hell he is.”
I start looking around in the ditch and see something about fifteen feet away. I walk over and pick it up. Saxon is now in the ditch looking with us. “What is that?”
I turn it over to check and the screen is all busted up. “It’s his work phone. He always keeps it in his pocket when he takes a weekday off.”
Jeremiah walks over to us. “When he goes on a ride and has to carry that phone, he always slips his personal cell into his boot. I always thought that it has to be uncomfortable, but Dad always swears he can’t really feel it.”
That’s got Saxon calling Samson to have him trace Erik’s cell phone. Maybe we can find him that way. It’s the first glimmer of hope we’ve had.
I hear a vehicle pulling up, and I look over to the road and see a police cruiser parking next to our trucks. Getting out of it is Jason. Romona must have told him what was going on. I watch him walk over, and I must have a questioning look on my face ‘cause he speaks up as he walks to the edge of the road. “I stopped by to see Romona, and she was really worried. I can’t do anything officially anyway till his next of kin files a missing person’s report.”
Jeremiah huffs. “Well, what if we want to look for him first before I do anything official?”
Jason rubs his beard in thought. “I’d say let my department and I look out for him while we’re on patrol and let you know if we find anything. I’ve known your dad for a long time, Son. Most of my family has, and we’re just gonna want to help. We won’t stop you from looking. Hell, if someone did something to him, we’ll join you for a bonfire afterward.”
I can see Jeremiah’s stunned silent. At this point, I don’t care who the fuck looks for him. We just gotta find him. “At this point, we don’t have any more clues than his bike here, and his phone is smashed. It doesn’t even look like there was an accident here or anything. When I talked to him this morning before I left for work, he didn’t have any plans to do anything till he was going over to Romona’s for lunch.”
Jason nods at me. “I know he was coming over, Ro said she unearthed some stuff she wanted to give him. I stopped in to just say hi and grab a refill of my coffee while out on my patrol. She’s in tears, worried. Said he wouldn’t do something like this.”
He holds out his hand to give me leverage to get out of the ditch. I grab it and take the help of the lift-up. Once I’m face-to-face with him, I can see his concern. “Yeah, he wouldn’t just disappear and leave his bike like this.”
As soon as I say the words out loud, it makes me wonder if this shit could be connected to that piece of shit who attacked Madison. Jason, the smart fucker he is, must have thought the same thing ‘cause he tilts his head and studies me before asking his next question. “Could this be connected to what happened at the hospital?”
I sigh and take my phone out of my pocket to make a call. “That right there is a very good question, and I have no fucking answer.”
I hear Jason’s radio squawk out. “Captain Stone, what’s your 10-20? I thought you were just gettin’ coffee.”
I see him roll his eyes. “Sandi, did you need something or are you bored? I’m out at Conger and Delameter with an abandoned motorcycle.”
“Do you need an 11-85?”
He rolls his eyes. “You must be bored today. No, I don’t need a tow truck. I have one of the ROs out with me. Hey, I know Sheriff Stone is 10-7 but do me a favor and tell him to call me since you’re not busy.”
I tune out Jason’s bickering with his dispatcher and I send a quick text to Samson before I call Jonah. We have more questions and not one fucking answer. My heart is heavy, and it won’t beat normally till I put eyes on my man again.
Where the fuck are you? Please be okay. I will find you, Erik.