Chapter 41 Sloane
Sloane
Lacey eventually falls asleep after we stop at a gas station, and I grab her an overly sweet soda and a couple of PowerBars.
A bleary dawn washes the cloudy sky pale pink.
After a few hours, I see a sign for Walmart and exit the freeway.
I leave Lacey sleeping in the car and go inside to grab us each a couple of changes of clothing.
The cashier eyes the fresh purple bruise on my forearm from where the guy with the scar grabbed me earlier and shakes her head, as though the state I’m in, the early hour, and my hastily grabbed stash of jeans, T-shirts, and shoes tells a bleak story.
She clearly thinks I’m on the run from an abusive boyfriend or something.
It’s amazing, the difference a pair of jeans and some ballet flats can make to a flight of escape.
I feel less vulnerable than I did in my pjs, anyway.
Lacey wakes eight hours later. She’s conscious long enough to tell me that she doesn’t know how to drive, before I decide enough is enough and we need to dump the car.
We stop in Jackson County, Oregon, and abandon the vehicle in a liquor store parking lot with the keys still in the ignition—someone’s bound to steal it at some point—and then we traipse five blocks over to a Rest-Eezy Motel, where I check us in under a false name and then pass the fuck out.
ZETH
“What the fuck do you mean, the place was empty?” Callum, one of my boys, words the information cautiously, knowing full well how much shit he’s in.
I set him the task of checking in on Sloane’s place through the night, and the unbelievable little motherfucker is only calling me now, at eleven fucking a.m., to tell me that the house was empty when he got there.
“When did you last go by the place?” I demand.
He’s silent for a long time. And then, “Midnight.” I hear the wince in his voice.
I hope he can hear the murder in mine. “Say again? Because I swear you just said midnight, when I told you to go by every two fucking hours.”
“I know, Zee. But the place is miles from anything, man! Took me an hour just to find it. I figured no one else was gonna be headed up that sketchy road in the dark. It’s fucking dangerous!”
“You know what’s fucking dangerous?” I growl. “Me. I’m fucking dangerous. And right now I’m close to flying back to Seattle so I can personally fuck you up. You feel me?”
“I’m sorry, Zee! Seriously, I’m gonna find them, I swear.”
“No, you’re not. You’re gonna tell me what you found when you went up there.” My voice grows quieter and lower with each and every word. Anyone with half a brain cell knows that this is not a good thing.
“Well. Her cell phone was upstairs on the nightstand.”
“WHAT?”
He bulls on, probably afraid to give me a chance to speak.
“And there were deep tire tracks outside. Not from the doc’s car, though.
That was still parked there. The tires were cut to ribbons.
And there were a lot of footprints and skid marks in the mud.
Guess it looked like something had been dragged or some shit. ”
“Dragged or some shit? You are filling me with positivity right now, Callum. Do you know what it feels like to have your fingers broken one by one? ’Cause the prospect of showing you is sounding more enjoyable by the second. Where. Are. They?”
“I don’t know, boss. I’m gonna find out, though. Right now!”
The line goes dead. I grit my teeth, screw my eyes shut, and squeeze the phone until it creaks under the pressure. I take a moment. Swallow hard. Inhale a deep breath.
Today has not started off well.
I knew something was up when Sloane didn’t answer her phone. I fucking knew it.
My stomach is twisted in knots, palms sweating, heart thundering. What the fuck is wrong with me? I get up, and the floor pitches like I’m standing on the deck of a ship in a sixty-foot swell.
Breathe, for fuck’s sake, I tell myself. Fucking breathe.
Breathing doesn’t help. The last time I felt like this, a piece-of-shit warden had just slammed my cell door closed and my new reality had hit home.
I was in Chino, of all places. Totally fucked.
At the will of another man. I hadn’t lived like that since I’d fled my uncle.
I’d panicked that first night. That was all I’d allowed myself before I’d shut it down.
They told me when to eat, and when to shit, and when to clean, and when to work, but they could never tell me how to feel about it again. I had taken back control of myself.
Now, there is no control. My insides are flayed raw. My lungs are full of holes.
Completely fucking unacceptable.
I don’t know where they are.
I don’t know where she is.
I don’t know how to get to them.
There’s nothing I can do.
But I need to do something. I have to. I snatch up my jacket, testing the weight to make sure the Camaro keys are still inside. I’ll drive all day and all night if I have to. I’m going to find those girls. My girls. My girl.
On the other side of the bedroom door, Jake and one of the guards from the entrance the other night, the tall one, are heading down the hallway, looking very fucking serious.
A serious look on a gang lord is a very bad sign.
When Jacob feels threatened, he behaves to the contrary and smiles.
When he suspects someone’s playing him for a fool, taking liberties, spying, and fucking around in business they have no right to be fucking around in, that’s when the smile disappears.
“Going somewhere, Mayfair?” Jacob asks. No more brother. Open contempt has replaced the show of friendliness he extended when I arrived. The guard next to him carries a gun tucked in the front of his waistband. He hooks his thumb into his belt, emphasizing the fact.
I shrug, casual as you like. “Ahh, y’know, man. Just going to pick up a friend. You said I should bring someone to this event, right?” The event isn’t for another two days, but fuck it. It’s the first excuse that comes to mind.
“Sure, sure.” Jacob scratches at his chin, eyeing me up and down.
“Before you go, come chat by the pool a while, huh?” This isn’t the kind of request a man says no to.
The fact that he’s even disguised it as a request gives me a glimmer of hope that he might not know as much as I think he does.
Not yet, anyway. I nod, narrowing my eyes at him.
Jacob gestures ahead, signaling that I should go first. After two days casually wandering the halls, hoping to randomly bump into Alexis, I’ve gotten a pretty good lay of the land within the compound’s villa.
I head straight for the pool. Outside, a fruit platter waits for us, along with fresh juice and beer.
Jacob sits on his sun lounger, the guard taking up position standing behind him.
I chuckle at the ridiculous punk, who seems to be boiling over the fact that I’m not visibly shitting myself.
“Gonna shoot your dick off with that thing,” I advise him, raising my eyebrows at his gun. I pop a strawberry into my mouth, chewing it slowly as I smile a dark smile at him.
Jacob makes a tsking sound at the back of his throat. “Aw, come on now, Zeth. Be nice to my friends. I’m always nice to yours, true?”
I eat another piece of fruit, rocking my head from side to side—a noncommittal gesture, even though I say, “True.”
“I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to ask you somethin’.
” Jacob waves at the guard, who hands over a folded manila envelope that was tucked into the back of his waistband.
Jacob slides a piece of paper from the envelope, setting it face down on the table between us.
“I’ve forgotten why you said you were down here in SoCal.
You mentioned catching up with some friends on your way to visit family… right?”
“That’s right.” I reply, not blinking at the line of questioning or the piece of paper on the table.
“I see. What kinda friends you got here in Los Angeles, Zeth?”
“All kinds.” Another piece of fruit. I gesture toward the ice bucket filled with beers and give him a querying look.
Jacob nods, giving his consent. I twist the cap off one of the beers and take a long swig.
Jacob does the same, though taking a much more conservative sip from his bottle.
“Visited an old high school buddy yesterday. Grabbed some lunch,” I tell him.
I was careful to make sure I wasn’t being followed, but hell.
People can be sneaky motherfuckers. Jake could have had me tailed when I went to meet Rick.
Better admit to seeing him before confronted with photographic evidence, if that’s what’s on the paper.
“Uh-huh.” Jacob rests a hand on his bulging belly, balancing his beer on top of it, too. “This friend of yours. He has a name?”
I give him my best confused look. “Yeah, his name’s Rick. Why?”
“Because we caught a guy taking pictures of the girls yesterday from outside the compound. He won’t give us his name or tell us why he’s here. We thought perhaps he might be a friend of yours?”
Fuck. A guy taking pictures of the girls from outside the compound? That sure as hell is someone I know, but it ain’t Rick. It’s Michael. I shake my head, smiling ruefully. “Sorry, man. No idea. Probably just some perv trying to get his dick wet, no?”
With a scowl, the guard behind Jacob grunts disbelievingly. “You seriously listening to this, boss? The guy’s full of shit.”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Anton!” Jacob hisses.
His jowls wobble at his sudden spike of rage.
Purple-faced, Jacob eyes me in a way that would make lesser men falter.
Not me, though. I’ve dealt with much worse than this and come out the other side smelling of fucking daisies.
The other guy usually comes off reeking of sweat and his piss-stained pants. Jacob knows this about me.
“I’m not accusing you of anything, Zeth,” he reassures me. “I just wanna make sure this man is no friend of yours before I let Anton and his friends get a little more persuasive with their questions. I’d feel bad if one of your employees were to get hurt.”
If Michael is somewhere in this compound, then he’s keeping his mouth shut tight—one of the reasons I hired him.
They have no reason to suspect he’s one of mine.
This heavy of Jacob’s, Anton. He insisted that I’m full of shit just now.
He’s the one whispering into Jake’s ear, telling him I’m connected to this in some way.
“Sorry, man. Like I said, I can’t help you. Makes no sense, anyway. Why would I have someone watching the place when I’m already inside?”
Because he could take photos of you fucks while I was gone.
Because he could see into the girls’ area of the compound from where he was hiding.
Because I need to act cool while I’m here and not get caught snooping around like a goddamn spy.
There are more reasons, but these are the most important.
Jacob’s dark eyes laser into me, maybe trying to ascertain the truth of my comment. Thoughtfully, he nods.
“Hmm. I figured as much. But you know how things are with Charlie, huh? We are friends now, but it wasn’t always that way. I’m a careful man, Zeth. I always like to be careful.”
“Me, too.”
Jacob casually flips over the piece of paper on the table, studying it for a moment.
When he puts it down again, it’s the right way up, and I witness the damage they’ve already done to my second in command.
The dusty jeans and a bloodstained white tank top are a far cry from the immaculate suits he usually wears.
His muscles strain as he pulls against the bonds that tie his hands behind his back.
There’s blood on his forehead, his temple, his shoulder, running from his mouth.
They’ve already worked him over pretty good.
I let it all wash over me. I can’t worry about him.
This isn’t his first rodeo. He can take care of himself.
That knowledge doesn’t stem my building rage, though.
I throw a fire blanket over it, knowing the action won’t put out the inferno burning in my chest. It will contain it for a while, at least. I smirk, raising an eyebrow at Anton, who is still running his thumb over the grip of his gun.
Twitchy motherfucker. “I feel for you, buddy. Stroking that thing in public and you still can’t seem to get it hard?
I get it. You gotta make yourself feel tough in other ways, don’t you? ”
“What the fuck you implying?”
“I’m implying that your dick doesn’t work.” The fire blanket isn’t working. Oops.
Anton steps forward, mouth turned down—
Jacob holds up an impatient hand, stopping his man in his tracks.
“I really wish you would play nice, boys,” he groans.
“Anton, go see if this guy’s ready to tell us what he’s doing here.
And I know you said you were going to collect a friend, but perhaps you’ll do me the honor of spending the afternoon with me?
I thought maybe some entertainment from the girls perhaps and a few beers in the sunshine? ”
For fuck’s sake. He wants to keep me close. He may not believe Anton’s conspiracy theories, but he also doesn’t necessarily believe me, either. I arrange my face into my best imitation of an apology. “Sorry, Jake. I really do need to grab this chick. Maybe tomor—”
He places a firm hand on my shoulder, pushing me back into the sun lounger. “You wouldn’t leave me to drink alone, would you? No, Zeth. I don’t drink alone. I’m afraid I really must insist.”