Ox (The Devil’s Riders #5)

Chapter 19

NINETEEN

Ox

Not one of us believed a single word out of Maze’s mouth. But the fucker was sticking to his lies, just as we knew he would, so there was little we could do about it until we could dig up some proof.

“If you don’t stop pacing, you’re going to put a hole in the carpet,” Hammer said, tossing me a protein bar. “Here. Eat something. I can hear your stomach grumbling from over here. You’re going to need your strength when you find Ghost and beat him to death.”

I hadn’t even realized I was hungry. However, now that he’d mentioned it, the pain in my gut tore through me something fierce. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and my shaky hands told me I needed to immediately rectify that oversight before it got even worse.

Tearing into the protein bar, I gobbled it down in two bites. I was nowhere near satisfied, but it was going to have to do for now.

“I got something,” Pipe spoke up then, crossing the dingy hotel room to show me his phone. As I scanned the device, he explained, “Ghost’s been spotted at a local drug dealer’s house in Arizona. From what my informant tells me, he uses the place from time to time to store excess product and get lost when he doesn’t want to be found.”

I swore, hating the idea of my girl in such a filthy place. It probably doubled as one of those disgusting meth labs that spontaneously explodes and makes the news every couple of months.

“It makes sense,” German reasoned. “If you want to get lost, a trap house is definitely a place no one would look for you.”

“You got the location?” I demanded, not wanting to waste a single minute where my girl’s safety was concerned.

“Yeah,” Pipe answered, as he plugged the address into his phone. “It’s about two hours south of here.”

Heading for the door, I tossed over my shoulder. “I’m driving. We’ll make it in one.”

We hit traffic, so it took us closer to the two hour mark that Pipe had predicted. Not wanting to pull up to the house directly, we hid our vehicles, which had plates that couldn’t be traced back to the Club, at a house that had a for sale sign in the yard and no current occupants. Not for the first time, I was grateful for Pipe and his impressive skills with a computer. The man was an electronic God. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t find out, or manipulate, using that little laptop of his.

Navigating our way in the dark over to the address our informant had given us, we showed up at a house that looked like any other you’d find in middle America. Immediately, we began our recon, trying to assess which was the best method of entry of the three points the house had to offer.

“I expected something more—” Hammer began, trying to think of how best to describe the yellow colonial with prissy, black shutters.

“Run down?” German helpfully provided.

“Pretty much,” he said, as his hand wrapped around the butt of his Glock.

“Not all drug dens are obvious,” German pointed out.

Hawk got our attention then. “Based on the blueprints Pipe lifted from the county records, the best way in is through the basement walkout in the backyard. There’s no direct lightsource out there and Pipe jammed any surveillance equipment the homeowners might have installed.”

After we discussed our individual roles in the break in, we flowed toward the unlit backyard with deadly grace. While Pipe picked the lock, the rest of us watched his back. It took him less than twenty seconds to break in, and we funneled down the steps silently, guns raised.

A single light in a corner room acted like a beacon to us. The closer we drew to it, the heavier the tangy smell of death became. When we reached the doorframe, we figured out why that was. Inside were the bodies of two men in their mid thirties who’d been dead for several hours. Not far from their corpses was a pile of puke.

German, Pipe, and Hammer cleared the rest of the house as Hawk and I searched the men’s pockets for ID to confirm what we already suspected. The bodies belonged to the junkie homeowner and his cousin. Both had their throats slit and their eyes frozen wide open, as if they were still in shock over the macabre event.

Crumpled in the corner of the room was Kayla’s bright red scarf. My girl had been here. But I was too late and she was already gone. I would have put my fist through the concrete if I wasn’t saving breaking my knuckles on the face of Ghost the minute I found the twisted bastard.

My Brothers returned to the basement after they swept the top floor. German announced, “The place is clear. It doesn’t look like there was a break in of any kind. This was most likely an inside job.”

When they saw me clutching my girl’s scarf, Pipe asked, “I’m guessing that’s Kayla’s?”

I nodded, not able to speak beyond the lump in my throat.

Pipe placed his palm on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I promise you, Brother. We’ll find her. I’ve got informants all over the world. If we have to track her to Timbuk-fucking-tu, we’ll bring Kayla home.”

Though I trusted my Brother could do exactly what he said, I wasn’t sure what would happen to my girl in the meantime. There were some things people couldn’t come back from. And, if Ghost was half as fucked up as I knew he was, I feared for Kayla’s sanity.

Refusing to give up hope though, I nodded and asked, “Where to next?”