Chapter 12
Jules
I have no clue what the fuck I’m doing. I should have kept my ass in the van and did my job. However watching Vi sashay her way in the diner and then sit at the motherfucking window made me lose my mind. Add to it Juno is here and I left my senses in the van with my sister and brothers.
The heat of her thick thigh seeps into me, and I try to act like I’m just a normal guy joining a bunch of women for lunch. Moss managed to make his way to the DRMC table, blending in nicely with the brothers. I on the other hand am getting a full creative breakdown on how Mira is going to write some trucker romance.
“Obviously he’s been a bit of a player on the road, but maybe he’s back in town after two years away from the woman that he spent one hot, memorable night with who now tends bar at the watering hole he decides to stop at. Seeing her again brings up all these feelings and he wants to tap that again but she’s hesitant. What could be holding her back?” Mira narrows her eyes and gazes at the women around the table.
“Oh! Maybe she had his child and never told him. I mean, if it’s a one night stand they probably didn’t exchange anything more than bodily fluids,” Vi’s sister Jazz offers.
“Yes!” Mira points her pencil at Jazz before jotting down notes.
They keep rabbiting on and I zone out as I watch the body language of the guy we’re surveilling. He and his buddy are at a booth near the back, which is perfect because we needed uninterrupted access to the truck. As we speak our team will be tagging it so we can follow its route to its final destination point.
The piece in my ear makes a quick series of beeps indicating that comms are going wide.
“We’ve got a problem,” Dex’s voice says. “I got a guy still inside the truck we’re meant to be tagging.”
Gus curses over the line, and shooting a look to the MC shows them all tensing.
“Who the fuck is in the diner with our driver then?” Rhodie mumbles under his breath from his place in the booth.
“A second truck pulled in alongside our target a minute or so later,” Savage replies.
“So a trucker friend then?” Gus asks.
Dex lets out a sigh. “Sure. Although his truck has traces of blood on the door. We hit it with heat detection, and found at least five heat signatures. Smaller than livestock, bigger than a dog.”
Those of us in communication share looks with each other, the trucker fucks none the wiser.
“Place the tracker as best you can and focus on the second truck. The heat signatures sound child-sized and the presence of blood makes that truck our priority as we don’t know where it’s heading,” Gus barks down the line.
“Got it,” Dex replies. “Tav gave me an extra tracker, we’ll place it on the new target and shadow him.”
Nat and Ana burst into laughter over something Jazz has said, pulling my attention away from the shitshow and to the women at the table. Namely the one sitting next to me. Vi looks up at me with her chocolate brown eyes, she has lighter flecks that run through them and I love how they glow when she gets fired up.
“What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. She doesn’t need to know shit. “Nothing. Just a work thing.”
She narrows her eyes at me, her delicate hand lands on my thigh and I try not to tense. I don’t want her to know how much my body likes her touch. Her hand travels up my thigh, then back down, settling at the top of my knee. Then squeezes. Hard.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I growl in her direction, ignoring the stares of the Davies sisters, Nat, Ana and Mira around the table.
“I can read you like a book, dickhead,” she hisses under her breath. “There’s something wrong. Tell me or else I’ll keep squeezing until you can’t feel your leg.”
“Yeah, look, I don’t mean to butt in, but you should really listen to her, Jules,” Jazz says, staring me down.
“You should. She did that to Moss once and it was so bad he couldn’t compete in the state long distance champs because he had nerve damage,” Lily adds.
Mira stares wide-eyed at Vi before her eyes glaze over and she starts to scribble in her notepad again .
“Our mission has taken a turn,” I say through clenched teeth.
Vi looks at Juno, who is dozing off in her little chair, then at her siblings and the Ol Ladies. “Hey, I gotta get Juno home for her nap. Do you ladies want to continue this at Jules’ place?”
Violet smirks at me and I nod once, fucking ecstatic that she’s leaving this shitshow before it fully starts. The MC women pack up their things, saying they’ll pick up some wine before heading to mine and are out the door before I can let out a full breath. The Davies sisters are slower due to bags of Juno’s crap, but still, they’re going to be getting out of here. Thank fuck. Flicking my eyes around the full diner, they land on Tank who gives me a nod, probably thanking me for getting his Ol Lady out of here too.
One of the truckers stands, claps the other on the back and moves to leave the diner. Knowing Vi is going to be heading home with Juno has me feeling a shit ton better about the situation. I wait until he passes me, then I too stand, ready to tail him to whichever vehicle is his. I’m hoping it’s the one we’ve now set sights on. This guy is scrawny and going to be a fuck load easier to throw him into a trunk as a present for Dayz.
I lean in to Vi, “Thank you,” I whisper into her ear, ignoring the shiver that goes through her.
I ignore how much my body wants her. How much I want to sit my ass back down and bask in the glow that she emits, even if part of her glow is rage at my shitty move last night. Making my way to the door, I lift my chin to Rhodie, knowing he and the MC will know when to make moves.
I walk to the back lot, trailing behind the greasy trucker, far enough that he hasn’t clocked me yet. Or Flack and Dex in the shadows .
“Eyes on, this is our guy,” I say in a low voice. Whoops come over my comms, almost deafening me.
“I’m going in,” Dayz’s voice calls out, my brother’s curses filling the empty air she left behind.
I quicken my steps, eager to get to this guy before Dayz. If she gets her hands on him we’re gonna end up with a mess on our hands. My fingers work the lid off of the canister in my pocket, allowing my fingers to grip the nasal spray by the handle. I stop abruptly as he stops to piss about with his boot, before straightening and then banging the sides of his truck, chuckling to himself. Asshole.
I let out a shrill whistle, startling him enough to have him spin in my direction. By the time I stop moving we are toe to toe with each other.
“Who the fuck-”
My hand shoots up, shoving the spray canister into his nostril, depressing the trigger and filling his nasal cavity with Midazolam. The medication my sister uses to sedate her unwilling victims.
“Night night, asshole,” Dayz’s voice coos from behind me as he hits the ground.
Violet
I watch as Jules follows one of the crusty truckers out the door, then gather my 100 bags quickly, anxious to get Juno home now that I know that his operation has gone sideways. Lifting Juno’s carrier and slipping the handle into the crook of my arm, I’m assaulted by a hideous scent coming from her tiny las pompis .
“Jesus hell! Is that coming from her?” Jazz asks, pulling the collar of her shirt up over her nose.
“Hey! You work with kids all day, don’t tell me they don’t have accidents!” I snark.
“Yeah, but they eat people food. This kid eats formula and smells like that? Imagine when she eats food!”
I stare down at the angelic frowny face with the ass of Satan and have to admit, she has a point. “OK, let me get her changed and then we can go. But we gotta hustle.”
“You take the diaper bag and we’ll get your stuff packed up,” Lil offers, starting to load up.
“Be back soon,” I say over my shoulder as I hot foot it to the bathrooms, looking for the one with the picture of a woman and a baby.
I move to lock the door and realize that the lock is broken. Shrugging, I get Juno on the changing table and start unbuttoning her snaps.
“-Yeah, there’s a ginger kid in here. Double check that we need a ginger and I’ll get him-” a gruff voice says outside the door.
I frown and start to clean Juno up as quickly as I can.
“-yeah, thought so. He’s a little older, maybe 9?”
There’s only one ginger in here that’s around that age and it’s Rodney.
“-yeah man. Got it.” There’s some rustling outside the door. “Hey kid, wanna see something cool?”
“No.” That’s Rodney’s voice. He was sitting at the second to last booth before the hallway and the bathrooms .
“Nah, it’s super cool. You play video games?” The male voice says, less gruff than when he was on the phone.
“Yeah. What kind of games you got?” Rodney’s heavy footsteps make their way closer to where Juno and I are and I make sure Juno is clean and changed, then I place her in her seat, strapping her in. I move her off the table onto the floor for her safety while I deal with the guy in the hallway. Rodney may be a little terrorist, but he doesn’t need some perv messing with him.
I fling the door open, “Rodney, do you know this man?” I ask him, not taking my eyes of the tall, thin trucker type. How many truck drivers does this diner have? Sheesh.
“Pirate! What are you doing here?” Rodney asks, a grin on his face.
“Rodney, answer me. Do. You. Know. This. Man?”
“Aw come on lady, just mind your own business and take that fat ass of yours back to the table.”
“I’ll do that as soon as you mind your own business and take your skinny ass back to your table,” I counter.
He ignores me, instead turning back to Rodney. “How old are you, kid?”
I place my body between him and Rodney, “He’s none-of-your-fucking-business-years-old.”
“You’re a mouthy bitch. I was planning on letting you walk. Not anymore.” Quick as a flash he grabs Rodney’s chubby hand and yanks him from behind me. He pulls a gun out of god knows where, holding it to Rodney’s messy, red hair. “You’re going to do exactly what I say, when I say it. Now move your fat ass toward the back doors. Make a sound, and Fanta pants gets it.”
“I ain’t got nothing in my pants you asshole!” Rodney huffs indignantly and I really want to laugh but I can’t.
We shuffle out the door, Rodney pressed up against me, smelling slightly of playdoh and wet coins. As much as he gets on my nerves, I can’t let him be taken. I stumble forward as the guy with the gun shoves me, making me walk faster, dragging Rodney with me as this guy talks to someone on his phone.
I need to use the fact that he’s slightly distracted to get Rodney out of here. “Psst, Rodney,” I whisper in a low voice. His freckled face turns to mine before he grins and then flips the bird. “I need your help. I left my baby in the bathroom at the diner. I need you to run and get help. Ok?”
His eyes narrow at me, until they’re little slits with a hint of blue peeking out. “What will I get if I do that?”
“Not kidnapped?” I offer. I stumble on a rock and manage to catch myself, only to have trucker guy poke me in the back with his gun. “Fine. I’ll buy you a hot glue gun.” I hiss at him under my breath.
“Not a cheap one, Pirate. A good one. Cordless.”
“Fine!” I agree. “Run now, Rodney!” I whisper frantically.
A part of me thinks he won’t do it. He’ll just follow along in his smart ass little world. But the ginger surprises me. He dodges the gun guy and takes off as fast as his short legs can take him, only turning to flip the bird at the dickhead.
“You shoot that and everyone will come running,” I yell, trying to keep the attention on me. I know as soon as Rodney alerts someone there will be hell to pay. The Tombs and DRMC will be all over his ass. Although glancing around there isn’t much of a sign of any one.
“Whatever bitch. I got you now. I’m sure with the right cocktail you can birth the ginger I need.” He fiddles with something on the back of his truck before rolling the door open .
I’m struck with the smell of old rotting fruit mixed with sweat and something else, something metallic.
“If you want to live, you’ll get your fat ass in there right now.” He presses the muzzle of the gun into my hair, hard enough to make me whimper.
I spin around, ignoring the gun at my temple, pressing my face closer to his. “You will fucking regret this. Mark my words. When you least expect it I will come for you. Eres hombre muerto, ” I say through my clenched teeth.
He laughs in my face, then hits me with the butt of the gun, stunning me enough to make me stumble, but that just spurs me on. “Get in the fucking truck NOW!”
I glare at him, memorizing his face, his features, everything about him. I meant what I said. He’s a dead man. Climbing into the back of the truck I try to hold in my nausea at the smell in here. I’m not sure what the hell this guy was carting, but it absolutely reeks. The roller door slams down, effectively cutting out most of the light. It’s deathly quiet until I hear a whimper.
“Hello?” I call out, hoping like hell adrenaline isn’t making my mind play tricks on me.
“Are you a mommy?” a little voice asks. My eyes are adjusting slowly, but not quick enough to find the source of the question.
“I’m a nanny. Are you here all alone, sweetheart? What’s your name? Are you OK?” My heart starts beating out of my chest and I bombard the inside of this manky truck with questions.
There’s some sniffling and then a sob breaks through the darkness. “I want my mommy!” a voice, different from the last cries .
Looking around, I can vaguely make out a huddle of shadows, in the far corner. The sudden rumbling of the truck and movement makes it hard for me to walk so I drop to my knees and shuffle my way to where I think there may be someone.
“Are, are you OK? What’s your name sweetheart?” My voice sounds panicked to my own ears but I push that aside and try to breathe, remaining calm for whoever is sharing this hellhole with me.
“I’m Maddy. There’s five of us here,” another voice, this one sounding older says, before gently reassuring the others.
I swallow down the bile, trying to keep my head. “How old are you and your friends, Maddy?”
“I’m ten. Bella is seven, Stevie is five, and the two little ones I don’t know their names but they’re small.”
“It’s going to be OK. I’ll look after you,” I say.
I sit against the wall next to them and they all huddle around me. If Jules and the MC don’t tear that man limb from limb, then I will.