Chapter 31 – Deacon
Chapter Thirty-One
Deacon
“ D eacon and I ride in front,” Wyatt grunts, pausing to hit his vape before giving the rest of his orders. “Hunter, if Juliette comes, she is your responsibility.”
“Um, excuse me? I am an asset to this group.”
Wyatt glares at her, but doesn’t dare hit the vape again to give Juliette more of a chance to talk. Thank goodness.
“Ruger, take the rear. You’re the only one here who can ride that long without stopping, so if you get to Oske’s place first, don’t let her get away.”
“Not a problem.”
It’s a few hours away, less than six if you keep your foot pressed on the gas.
“Oske won’t answer her phone and I don’t like that. She most likely has Keyshawn there but… you know how she can get. More of us that show up, the less likely she is to extort us for ten thousand dollars...”
“I never gave that bitch money for anything,” Ruger says proudly, revving up his engine in the most irritating manner. Wyatt sighs. Ruger might have softened up enough to have a wife and kid, but he remains the same pain in the ass .
Hunter hands Juliette her bike helmet.
“Can I drive?” she asks.
Hunter glares at her so hard that she puts the helmet on meekly. Crazy ass woman, honestly.
“We should stay off the main highways. State Route 62 and Route 33 both run parallel to the old Route 66 once we get down there, and Barbarian families control a few of the gas stations and country stores. We all get one stop, except Ruger. Understood?”
Hunter salutes and puts his helmet on. My bike beats all the others for speed, and although it attracts way more attention than I like sometimes, she remains my greatest obsession. Black. Sleek. Purrs like a fucking tiger. I love this bike. I let Wyatt lead and match his speed in under a second. Wyatt accelerates ahead and I let him lead for a little before catching up to him, both of us pushing the limits of our physical safety but enjoying the thrill of the ride.
Anyone who loves riding understands why we all risk death for this bliss. So much adrenaline cranks through my body that I feel alive for the first time since I discovered Keyshawn missing.
I’m going to get my baby back…
I know the woman I dragged into my basement is strong enough to survive anything. I chose her because of her strength. The way she didn’t flinch each time I brutalized her flesh. I can’t lose that woman — or that strength. She’s the only woman I’ve ever met that I can imagine having a family with.
The only comfort I have is that if Oske paid someone to do this — maybe even that idiot Moses, Keyshawn will remain unharmed. Still, it would be in my best interests to kill whoever touched Keyshawn. Men are men… and I don’t like the idea of any man knowing how easy it is to snatch Keyshawn from my home.
I need better security. I also need Keyshawn to learn how to use a gun. I’m sure she has some type of urban liberal ideas about guns but… I’ll discipline that out of her and teach her ass how to shoot. My rage simmers and I look over my shoulder. Wyatt lingers too far behind. I slow down enough for him to catch up and keep our pace matched.
I’ll save my anger for whoever took Keyshawn. Nothing could ever really cure whatever the fuck is wrong with Ruger Blackwood. I’ll ask him for help or inspiration for what to do…
But this will not go unpunished.
Ruger passes us on our one stop for gas and smokes. I have a cigarette while Juliette and Hunter argue loudly next to me. Wyatt goes into the gas station to take a piss and talk to his second cousin working the counter — dumb ass kid just got out of jail for stealing a Dyson Air Wrap from Target for his girlfriend.
“I don’t see why I can’t go on a girl’s trip to Italy. I need inspiration for my art.”
“You ever heard of the mob?” Hunter says. Juliette rolls her eyes like he’s talking pure bullshit.
“The mob is fake, Hunter. You believe everything you see in movies.”
Hm. I don’t say anything, but the mafia is very fucking real. Especially out where Ethan is in Boston. I hope that crazy gambler stays out of trouble. Hunter brings up my point to Juliette without me having to say anything.
He gets stern with her, “The mob is very fucking real, Juliette. And the way your ass likes mouthing off at people, I’m not letting you go anywhere without me or my gun.”
“You can’t bring a gun to Italy and it’s a girls’ trip. Not a husband trip.”
Wyatt returns quickly and releases me from the hell of experiencing another couple bickering. I hate that their stupid fight makes me miss Keyshawn. Of course, the two of us would never fight like that. We have other ways to work out our differences…
The four of us return to the highway and Juliette still isn’t driving — Thank God. I’m glad to see Hunter can still put his foot down. The closer we get to Oske’s place, the more nervous I get. I need Keyshawn to be there…
I need to see her.
Ruger’s bike leans precariously outside of Oske’s trailer on the rez, standing up against a wooden post covered in crow shit once we get there. Less work for us. Wyatt and I park our bikes side by side. Wyatt sighs once he takes his helmet off.
“She had better be in there,” he mutters. “This was a big misunderstanding.”
“It’s nothing.”
We can hear Ruger and Oske talking by the time we get to the front door. It’s a hushed conversation, not a full blown argument. Wyatt opens her front door after a terse knock and the smell of weed wafting out of the place explains why they’re chatting instead of fighting. If you take care of Ruger, he takes care of you.
But I don’t hear Keyshawn’s voice…
“Having fun?” I snap at Oske when I enter the room. She strategically positions herself at Ruger’s right arm… like that idiot could stop a bullet.
Wyatt steps further into the room, shooting both Ruger and Oske a glare which they ignore. They’re both equally difficult to tame for their own reasons.
“Ruger explained why you’re mad,” she says. “Sit down. Smoke some of my weed.”
“Is this a game to you, Oske?” I growl at her.
“Listen, everything is fine. It’s a simple miscommunication. Once we smoke, I’ll tell my brothers to bring Keyshawn back to your place. No problem.”
“Your brothers have Keyshawn?”
I sit down, but only so I can glare more intensely at Oske. She’s been high on life since several members of the club trust her with expensive business dealings. It’s hard to believe how she used to live.
“Yes,” Oske says, taking an infuriating puff of weed before passing it along to Ruger, who is already busy texting someone. “I thought you kidnapped her.”
I did.
“Why would you assume that?”
“No way. I’m not putting your business out there in front of Southpaw and getting my ass fired.”
“I’m getting a drink,” Wyatt growls. “Stop being a degenerate and call them now. ”
“Why should I rush? Deacon should have communicated.”
“My love life is none of your business.”
“Love life?” Oske replies, wrinkling her nose. “Don’t be disgusting. Fine. I’ll call them.”
She walks into her bedroom to make that call. Annoying, but effective. Ruger sighs with a little too much relief. He takes an extra puff from the joint and passes it to me. I don’t mind a little stress relief right now, although the ultimate stress relief will only come when I have Keyshawn back in my bed again.
“Thank God,” Ruger says. “I thought I was going to have to lie to Zayna.”
That man is out of his goddamn mind.
“Why would you lie to her?” Wyatt growls disapprovingly as he returns with a beer for each of us.
“I told her I wasn’t going to kill anybody anymore…”
“Then you should do that,” Wyatt says. “Don’t lie.”
“Okay. If we have to kill Oske’s brothers, I’ll tell her.”
Wyatt sneers. “Why would we do that? It’s a misunderstanding.”
Ruger and I exchange glances that don’t go unnoticed by Wyatt.
“You are not killing her brothers.”
Oske storms out of the bedroom, and slams her phone on her coffee table.
“I’m going to kill my brothers,” she yells. “ KILL THEM! ”
“Nobody is going to kill them!” Wyatt roars.
I’m the only one focused on what’s important.
“What happened? Where are they? Is Keyshawn safe?”
“Who the fuck knows where Keyshawn is?” Oske says. “They lost her.”
“What do you mean?”
“I tried to find out! These idiots lost their phone signal and I don’t have a clue where they are or where they last saw her. We need to get out of here.”
“Can I at least finish my beer?” Ruger grumbles.
“No,” Wyatt says, snatching the beer back. “No drinking and driving. We don’t need more problems.”