Chapter 27
brYCE
“Ineed to go to work.” I pulled a tank top over my head.
“Can you wait a few hours? Please? I need to get to the garage first thing and make sure we have everything covered for the day in case Isaiah doesn’t show again. Then I can drive you to the paper.”
“I could go alone. Other people will be there.”
“Not an option.” Dash pulled on a pair of jeans. “Until we find out what the hell is happening and who took you, you’re not going anywhere without me.”
This was not an argument I was going to win. “Fine.”
It had been two days since he’d rescued me from that mountain and he’d only left my side once. And that was to go to my house yesterday and pick up some things so I could stay at his place for a bit. Even then, he’d called Emmett to stay with me while he was gone.
“How you feeling?” Dash, dressed in jeans and a gray T-shirt, came over and ran his hands up and down my arms.
“Meh.” I’d been sick this morning. Yesterday morning too. I hoped it had passed because if we were going to the garage, I was nervous about getting up close and personal with the shop’s toilet. “Will you grab me some crackers?”
“Sure.” He kissed my forehead, walking out as I finished getting dressed. When I found him in the kitchen, he had a box of saltines on the counter and a travel mug of decaf ready for me. It wouldn’t be until noon that I’d be able to stomach anything else.
Picking up my laptop from his dining room table, I loaded it into my purse, then followed Dash to the garage. He looked longingly at his bike, parked next to his truck, but knew I wasn’t ready to get on it yet.
Soon. But not yet.
When we got to the garage, three bikes were already lined up against the fence in the parking lot.
“Since when does everyone beat you here in the morning?” I asked Dash. The clock on the dash said seven thirty.
“Since never.” He pursed his lips. If Draven, Emmett and Leo were here already, it meant trouble.
All three men were waiting inside Draven’s office when we got inside, Emmett and Leo across from his desk, Draven behind it. The moment he spotted me, Draven leapt up and offered me his seat.
“Thanks.”
He nodded, standing against the wall next to Dash. He didn’t get a good morning or hello from his son.
“What’s up?” Dash asked.
“Got some news from the DA,” Draven announced.
“And?” My article had been printed on Sunday, showing a man breaking into the clubhouse and exposing Genevieve and the reason Draven and Amina had been at the Evergreen Motel in the first place. Had it worked? Had we planted a seed of doubt that might make the prosecutor delay?
“It’s not enough.” Draven gave me a sad smile. “The photo of the guy. The speculation that the knife was stolen. It’s not enough. They’re going to proceed with the trial. Starts within sixty days.”
“No.” My heart sank. If only I could have told them about being kidnapped.
I trusted Dash and his reasons. The last thing I wanted was for Marcus to find something that might land Dash in prison alongside Draven.
But I couldn’t help feeling that had we reported the kidnapping, Draven might have an easier time being acquitted.
“We’ve got time,” Emmett said. “Two months to prove you’re innocent.”
“More than that,” Dash said. “Trial will take a while.”
Except we were at yet another dead end. Unless we could find my kidnapper, we had nothing to go on.
“I have some news too,” Leo said. “Cops are releasing it today. My source says they found a burned body in the cabin.”
“No,” I gasped. “Who?”
“Could it be our guy?” Dash asked.
Leo shrugged. “No idea. Body was burned to a crisp. They’re going to have to do dental records to identify him, but I’m guessing it was our guy.
Maybe he ran up there, circled back and holed up inside.
Started the fire, who the fuck knows. But if he was our guy, the chances of proving he murdered Amina without a confession are dust.”
Draven’s frame slumped against the wall. “Shit.”
The room went quiet.
“It might not be him. The guy who took me. Maybe he had another friend up there. Maybe someone he’d already killed. Who knows? I think he’s probably dead but we don’t know for sure.”
“Bryce is right.” Dash pushed off the wall. “Everyone watch their back. Something about this doesn’t sit well. It’s too clean. He was smart enough to take Bryce and Genevieve but then killed himself in a fire? Doesn’t fit.”
“Agreed.” Emmett stood from his chair. “We’ll keep looking. Keep thinking. Something will come to light.”
Leo stood too. “Fuck, I hope so.”
“Until then, let’s get back to work,” Dash said. “Show whoever this fucker is that we’re moving forward.”
He nodded for me to follow him into his office. The desk was cluttered and he gathered the paperwork up, making one large stack in the corner. “It’s all yours, babe. Unless you want to come hang out in the garage with me. I can set you up on a tool bench.”
I grinned. “We did that before, remember? Pretty sure that’s how you knocked me up.”
He chuckled, sitting on the edge of the desk. Then he motioned me into his arms, into the only place I felt safe at the moment.
“Eventually, all this will end, right? Life will return to normal?” Or a new normal. I didn’t want to go back to the days when he wasn’t in my life.
“One way or another. Either we find out who killed Amina or . . .”
Or Draven lost his freedom.
One week later, Dash and I were already finding a new normal.
We were at the garage, working. That was how we functioned now. In shifts. We’d come to the garage when he had to work. I’d sit at his desk, writing at my laptop. And whenever I needed to work at the newspaper or go somewhere in town for an interview, he’d be my silent sidekick.
Dash wouldn’t let me out of his sight, and oddly enough, I didn’t feel smothered. I felt protected. Cherished.
Loved.
If my new schedule bothered Dad, he didn’t comment. He and Mom were so happy they were getting a grandchild, he didn’t care what I did all day as long as I was growing his future reporter.
After a long talk, Dash and I decided not to tell my parents about the kidnapping mostly because it would terrify them. They’d worry it might happen again, and we didn’t need any extra attention. Which included deleting my story about the Tin Kings.
My backup file—the one I wrote in case Dash betrayed me—had been trashed for good. The ghosts of the former Tin King Motorcycle Club would rest in peace.
And I was going to print fun stories for a while.
I’d let Willy tackle the weekly police press sheets for a couple months.
At the moment, I was working on a story about one of Clifton Forge’s high school graduates who was off to Harvard in the fall.
Exciting news for our small town. The boy’s face on the front page was full of hope and wonder.
I clicked save on the final draft, uploading it to the shared drive, as my phone rang. When Genevieve’s name flashed on the screen, I blinked twice, not believing it was really her.
“Hey,” I answered, standing from the desk because I couldn’t keep still. “Are you okay? I’ve been so worried.”
Not a day had gone by when I hadn’t sent her a few texts and called at least twice. All had gone unanswered.
“Yeah. Sorry.” She sighed. “I’m okay. I just had to get out of there.”
“I can certainly understand that.” Except you could be in danger. I held back the lecture I really wanted to give her. “I’m really glad to hear from you.”
“Yeah. Listen.” She paused. “I-I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”
“Of course.”
“I’m here, in Clifton Forge.”
“What? You are?”
“There are some things happening. Some, uh . . . changes. Anyway, before it gets crazy, would you meet me somewhere?”
“Sure.” I didn’t have a car but I’d figure it out. “Where?”
“The cemetery. I’m sitting here in my car and I can’t seem to get out.”
“Oh, Genevieve.” My hand flew to my heart. “I’ll be there. Just wait.”
“Thanks, Bryce.”
I ended the call and groaned.
Dash is going to love this.
Twenty minutes later, my heart was racing as Dash and I pulled into the cemetery.
After my call with Genevieve, I’d gone to the shop and told Dash about it, knowing full well he’d never let me go alone.
We parked behind a gray sedan with Colorado plates. I sucked in a deep breath as I got off his bike. Ten seconds later, the rumble of another motorcycle filled the air.
“Damn it,” I muttered as Draven pulled into the cemetery. “How’d he know we were coming here?”
“Emmett must have overheard us talking and told him after we left.”
This was a good lesson to remember to keep my voice low in the garage.
“It’s bad enough that you’re here.”
He pouted. “Gee. Thanks.”
“Oh, you know what I mean.” I waved him off. “She needs a friend. Not a crowd.”
Not to mention Dash still hadn’t warmed to the idea of Genevieve. He still didn’t trust her motives completely. Even though he believed she was innocent and hadn’t played a part in my kidnapping, I think the picture of her holding a gun to my head was permanently burned into his brain.
“Can you watch from here?” I asked. “I won’t be far.”
“I’m coming.” He moved to stand, but I put my hands on his shoulders, forcing him down.
“She came here to see her mother’s grave, Dash. You of all people should be able to understand losing a mother. Let me go with her. Let me help her do this. Please?”
He blew out a deep breath. “Fine.”
“Thanks.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek.
Behind him, Draven had parked and turned off his motorcycle. I could feel his anticipation from feet away. He wanted to meet his daughter, but I shook my head.
He’d have to wait.
Leaving them on their bikes, I walked over to the sedan. As I got closer, the door opened and Genevieve stepped out.
“Hey. It’s good to see you.” Warm and dressed, not in the forest where I saw her in my nightmares.
“Thanks for coming.”
We hugged hard, like friends who’d known each other for decades, not days. The hug of two people who’d survived the unthinkable together.