43. Dempsey
43
Dempsey
I have no idea what the fuck Chip is going on about. I heard something about triangulating the texts on Babs’ phone between her and Shane. Going back to the texts the day she gave the stuffed bunny to Katy. Honestly, I couldn’t care less if he had to give a hand job to every nun in the city as long as he finds Katy.
“Can I look at it?” Spencer approaches me with caution and a small medical bag. My hands are torn up and aching. I wrapped dish towels around my knuckles in an effort not to get blood on anything, but I know it’s not a solution.
“Sure.”
She gestures to the kitchen table, and I move to sit, resting my hands on the table. I wince when she pulls away the first towel, reopening some of the cuts as the dried blood clings to the material.
“Did it make you feel better?”
Did it? Fuck no.
I jerk my head in response, and she nods in understanding.
“How are you doing, Spencer?” This is hard for all of us, but I imagine there’s a different level of guilt for her.
“May I share something with you, Vik?” She dabs a cleaning solution on my knuckles, and I relish the sting. I’ll gladly accept any feeling other than the gut-shattering heartache right now.
“Anything.”
“Do you know I was once pregnant…with Shane’s baby?”
It’s not often that Spencer isn’t one hundred percent confident, but that slight pause speaks volumes.
“I do. Justin filled me in on your past when things started to escalate with Shane. I’m sorry if that’s a breach of confidence.”
“No,” she insists. “I’ve told my story several times lately. It saves me the pain of telling it again.”
I nod, feeling like there’s more to it than we all know.
“Emory.”
“Who?”
“I had named my daughter Emory. I don’t think I’ve ever said that out loud before.” Our eyes lock, and I see the pain. Her mask is down, and she’s completely vulnerable. This isn’t a side of her I usually see unless she’s with one of her men. This emotion is for me.
“I always liked having a unisex name because there were no preconceived notions about my gender. In fact, it was almost easier to hide because people assumed it was a male’s name and would look me over. I stood out enough as a child already. Emory means “home strength” and refers to someone who has great bravery in challenging times.”
“It’s a beautiful name.” Spencer nods in response. She’s speaking to me, but there’s a far-off look in her eyes as she tends to the cuts on my knuckles.
“It is. Although I had no idea when I chose it, I was the one who would need the strength through the challenge of her loss.”
Tucker walks past us in the distance, and I lock eyes with him. I give him an almost imperceptible nod, but he understands and slowly walks our way.
“I never thought of her. It was a time in my life I wanted to forget. I knew I would never have a child of my own ever again, and it was easier to forget the pain ever existed than to deal with it. I compartmentalized my experience into a box in my mind and tucked it away.”
Tucker hears her words and stops a few feet behind her, not wanting to stop the emotions her soul is unburdening.
“Until Miller, Axel, Lincoln, and Tucker came into my life, and I had to give them the option of living a childless life with me. But Katy took that burden away. She became ours and filled the hole in my heart that I had ignored for over a decade. I never even told my father, but I donated Emory’s body to the hospital. If there was any part of her that could help another, I wanted that.”
Spencer finishes wrapping my hands and cleans up her supplies.
“I’m sorry my past has put you in this position.”
“Spencer, you—”
“I know I’m not the cause of this. He chose Katy randomly, and by some ridiculous fuckery of fate, she was linked to us.”
Tucker smiles at her curse word. It’s a rare occasion that Spencer resorts to cursing, but she’s passionate about what she’s saying right now, and I can’t blame her.
“I’m grateful because he brought her to us, and that brought her to you. Katy belongs to us, and every person in this house will do everything in our power to find her and bring her home safely. For you Vik. I’m not losing another daughter to him. You deserve her future.”
Tucker realizes she’s done and steps up to her, kissing the top of her head tenderly.
“Y’all done here, Little Miss?”
Spencer looks up at him, knowing he was listening. He won’t bring it up until she’s ready to discuss it again. If she ever is.
“Fucking A. I found it! I found the location of the tracker.” Everyone in the house rushes to the living room at the sound of Chip’s exclamation.
“I know that address.” Everyone looks at Lincoln. “It’s a police safe house. Fucking shit. Let’s go.”
“Patrick, stay with the useless mother. I think she’s about to see the inside of a jail cell.” He nods and hovers over her cowering body.
“I’ll stay, too. I think I’m more afraid of what my pregnant wife might do if she found out I put myself in danger than I am of a man potentially wielding a gun. Bring home our girl, Vik.”
I give Justin a curt nod, and everyone heads to the front door. I see Chip sit back on the couch, and I grab the back of his shirt, pulling him up to his feet. I hear a growl across the room and look up to see Patrick scowling at me. Fucking weird.
“You’re coming with us, Chip. We need to know if that signal moves.” Chip glances at Patrick before stumbling his way toward the door, laptop in hand.
Wordlessly, we all file into our vehicles. I get into Lincoln’s passenger seat with Miller and Chip climbing into the back. Tucker and Spencer get into his truck and follow us. I want to tell Lincoln to floor it. I want to reach my leg over and slam my foot on his to make us go faster, but we have to get there safely.
A hand reaches from behind and clamps my shoulder. “She’ll be okay,” Miller says, trying to calm my nerves.
“She better fucking be.” I’ll rip every fucking inch of that motherfucker apart if he even touches a hair on her body.
“Chip, any movement?” Lincoln turns into a residential neighborhood, and I can feel my heart trying to beat out of my chest.
“No. It hasn’t moved.”
“Stay in the truck and lock the doors when we get there. All right, Chip?” Lincoln uses his stern cop voice, and Chip nods in understanding.
Lincoln pulls over a few houses down from the red dot on Chip’s screen, and a silent look passes through all of us. This is it. Katy may or may not be inside the house. Katy had Bun-Bun, and the tracker was inside the toy. Shane could have dumped the tracker here and gone somewhere else, but I fucking hope he wasn’t that smart.
We all climb out of our vehicles, and I hear the doors lock behind us. I see Chip slink down in his seat. Poor kid isn’t made for this kind of stuff.
“Do we have a plan?” Axel asks as he looks around at all the perfectly manicured lawns and minivans around us. Each one of us is carrying at least one gun. I can guarantee Lincoln and Spencer have at least two each.
As we stand here trying to come up with a plan, two quick gunshots pierce the air.
“Katy!” I’m running before I even realize I’m moving.
“Dempsey, wait,” Lincoln yells hot on my heels.
“Fuck that.”
Tucker grabs me as I’m about to reach the bottom step of the porch and wraps his arms around my chest. I try to wrestle him off, but the fucker has me in a bear hug, and Lincoln steps up to my front, forcing me to give him all my attention.
“Look,” Lincoln tells me.
He knows my background and knows I’m better trained than my emotions are allowing me to act. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt, but my body is vibrating to get inside and make sure she’s okay. She’s alive.
“Fuck.”
There’s a keypad lock on the front door, like Justin and Spencer’s house. Tucker releases me, realizing I’ve gained my wits back, and I bob my head in thanks. He returns it as a silent gesture, saying, " No problem.”
“How do we get in?”
“Let me make a call and see if I can get a code.”
Lincoln pulls out his phone, and I grab his wrist. “Two shots were fired. We don’t have time for calls. We need action now.”
Lincoln’s eyes bob between mine as he considers my words. I see the moment he comes to a decision. I release his wrist, and he pulls his gun out.
“Fuck it. Everyone get ready.” He raises his hand toward the door, and we all cover our ears. The gunshot pierces the air as the door explodes next to the lock pad.
I push past everyone and shove the door with my shoulder. It gives under my weight, and we pour inside the house in different directions. I follow the smell of gunpowder down a hallway and peek into doors as I pass them. The first room is a…nursery. Fuck. Next is a bathroom. I carefully approach the final door as the smell of copper stings my nose.
No. Fuck no.
I take a deep breath and approach the door. As I spin the corner, gun cocked in front of me, something crunches under my feet, and I have a split second to duck before a bullet flies past my head.
“Fuck.”
Someone yells, “In here,” before I’m slammed into.