Chapter 7 #2
While he respected each and every one of them, there was no reason to have any of them breathing down their fucking necks when shit was already fucked up enough.
The slam of the back door into the wall had them all jumping out of their skin.
Quiet but deadly energy surrounded Reaper as he stalked in their direction. Behind him trailed Ghost, Grim, and T-Bone; all dressed like they were ready for combat.
Reaper pushed his way through the group to where Rage and Zeke stood. “Need an update and don’t leave any shit out. Not one damn detail.”
“Expected a message, or some sort of negotiation, or at least a fucking ransom from whoever took them by now,” Reaper said.
So did Rage. It had been four hours without a damn call, text, message by carrier pigeon, or even paper airplane.
They were still in the fucking dark.
And Reaper, while hiding it pretty damn well, was just as much on edge as the rest of them.
The Shadows had hunted down the license plate of the van. Of course it came back to the same company the graphic on the side of it advertised.
Of fucking course, that company wouldn’t give them any information on who rented it. They said they’d need the cops with a warrant to request it. And the fuck if Rage wanted the pigs involved.
Kidnapping or not.
Because if they got involved, the DAMC might not be able to exact revenge. In their own way.
The legal system was slow and a bunch of bullshit, anyway.
As soon as his phone dinged, he grabbed it to see a text from the bank about a possible fraudulent charge on the company credit card.
He quickly called the bank to find out who signed for it and what it was for.
His chin jerked back when they told him they didn’t know who signed for the charge, but the questionable charge occurred at the damn rental company plastered on the side of the van.
That didn’t make any damn sense. How could the company credit card be stolen from the strip club, then used to rent the kidnappers’ van?
“Gonna check on this and get back to you,” he told the lady at the bank and hung up.
He ground his teeth. It took everything in his power not to hurl that phone across the common area in Church.
“That van was rented using Heaven’s Angels’ company card,” he informed them all.
A flurry of curses moved through the large room.
Zeke frowned. “How’d they get a holda that?”
“Maybe Gabi had it on her when they kidnapped her,” Trick suggested.
“That means they kidnapped her first, rented a fuckin’ van, then kidnapped the rest?” Zeke asked. “If so, that’s kinda fucked.”
Fucked for sure since Gabi dealt with PTSD. If she was kidnapped, it would fuck with her head. It would take her back to the past that the Blood Fury MC rescued her from.
And that shit pissed him off even more. Crash and Liz had adopted her all those years ago to get her away from that so she could heal.
Rage scrubbed at his forehead as he tried to work out the sequence of events Zeke suggested in his head. None of that shit made any sense because… “That credit card’s usually locked in my goddamn safe in the office.”
“Can she get into the safe?” Zeke asked next.
Before he could answer, Reaper asked, “You know those three masked individuals were women, right?” He hadn’t even looked up from scouring the security footage, looking for every clue possible.
Say fucking what?
“You didn’t see they had tits?” Reaper pointed at the screen. “And smaller frames? I’m now positive that none of these are men. And none of the occupants of the van have their heads covered. Why cover Lyric’s head, but not the rest of the women?”
Good fucking question. And why was he only bringing this shit up now and not four fucking hours ago?
Goddamn it.
Nix asked, “Think it’s someone playin’ a joke on us?”
“Think it was the OGs? Testin’ us or somethin’?” came from Chaos.
“Wouldn’t put it past them,” Zeke muttered.
“That would be fucked.” Rage immediately stepped away from the crowded private bar and called his father. “You guys fuckin’ with us?”
“What the fuck you talkin’ ‘bout?” Hawk asked.
“Are the OGs testin’ us?”
“Still got no fuckin’ clue what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, son.”
“With the women.”
“What ‘bout ‘em?”
“They’re missin’.”
“The women are missin’?” Hawk repeated slowly. “Mine’s in the other fuckin’ room and you ain’t got one. Which women you talkin’ ‘bout?”
“Lyric, Gabi, and the rest.”
“What d’you mean, the rest?”
“All of the goddamn women, Dad!”
“What about ‘em? Use your fuckin’ words, boy.”
At thirty-one, he was far from a fucking boy.
He was about to remind his father of that when a beam of afternoon sun swept across the room as the back door opened again.
His brothers, the prospects, and the sweet butts had been going in and out all fucking day, but these newest arrivals were none of those.
All of the “missing” women walked in.
With huge fucking smiles on their faces.
And wouldn’t you fucking know, Lyric was in front, leading the way with her partner in crime, Avery.
She looked perfectly fine. No crying, no injuries, no panic.
She immediately took in the packed common room. “Wow! I didn’t know the party was going to continue here.” She elbowed Avery. “Was this supposed to be a surprise?”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Gotta go,” he growled, hanging up on his father before he got a response.
“No music? No food? Nothing? You guys don’t know how to throw a birthday party. At. All.” Lyric shook her head like she was disappointed in them.
Rage forced himself to keep his boots in place, not rush up to her and squeeze the shit out of her in relief.
The women fanned out, but Lyric kept coming.
“This some kinda sick joke, ain’t it?” he managed to ask as calmly as fucking possible.
Confusion wrinkled her brow. “What do you mean?”
What did he mean?
Something inside him snapped. While he was relieved she was okay, he just spent the last few hours pissed off and worried.
And feeling powerless, which was fucking worse.
“We thought you were all fuckin’ kidnapped!” Rage roared so loudly the top of his head might have blown off.
Avery grimaced. “Oops.”
“You thought we were kidnapped?” Vi asked, pushing her way to the front. Her confused eyes landed on Reaper.
“This was planned?” Reaper kept his cool a hell of a lot better than Rage.
She scratched her ear. “Sort of. It was a last minute thing.”
Rage noticed the moment she realized they might have fucked up.
Lexi elbowed her way to the bar and snapped her fingers at Chaos, who currently stood behind the private bar but normally bartended at The Iron Horse. “Get us a round. Something extra special for the birthday girl.”
Birthday girl?
Oh fuck.
He forgot about that. It was hard to keep track of everyone’s birthdays. She was now…twenty-four. A year closer to him, if only for the next few months.
“Who you snappin’ your goddamn fingers at, woman?” Chaos growled.
“You!”
“Who’s fuckin’ idea was it?” Zeke asked Vi, trying to ignore the other two snapping at each other.
“We took a vote.”
“A goddamn vote,” Rage muttered.
“Jesus Christ! Couldn’t have shared your plans with us?”
“I guess so…if we answered to you,” Vi told Zeke. “But we don’t. And you men have proven you can’t keep your pie holes shut. You would’ve ruined the surprise.”
“Couldn’t have told Reaper at least? You don’t think he can hold his fuckin’ tongue?” Rage asked.
“Funny. I don’t answer to him, either.” Her brow creased. “Not sure why you’d think that.”
Rage’s gaze flicked to Reaper. Seemed as if he was sticking firmly on the men’s side by keeping a carefully controlled expression.
“Get a fuckin’ clue. We ain’t all here for a goddamn birthday party, Vi. We’re here because we thought Lyric was kidnapped. Hell, we thought all of you had been snagged when none of you would answer your fuckin’ phones!” Rage roared.
“Did you miss the part that the three of us who took Lyric had tits?”
“If we couldn’t spot them…” Zeke snorted and stepped out of arm’s reach. “Sounds like more of a you problem than a problem with our eyesight.”
“Where’d you fuckin’ go?” Rage demanded from Vi since she seemed to be the ringleader. Lyric wasn’t to blame since it was a surprise for her, too.
“We took her to the spa for her birthday.”
“The fuckin’ spa?” Nix shouted. “All this fuckin’ shit for a goddamn spa day?”
“Yes. Because it’s your sister’s birthday, asshole. Did you forget?”
“Need a fuckin’ shot of whiskey,” Nix muttered and headed behind the bar.
Rage needed a hell of a lot more than a shot.
He stared at Lyric, who was listening to all the exchanges around her with her bottom lip clamped between her teeth.
She might not be at fault, but she was the cause.
Before he could think about it, he grabbed her arm and hauled her into the room where the officers met to the right of the club’s bar.
It took every fucking ounce of control he had left to not slam the door behind them.
“Ash—” she started as she turned to face him.
“Had an appointment with you today.” He managed to keep that right below a roar.
Barely.
She grimaced. “No one reached out to cancel it?”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. He attempted to control the tornado twisting inside of him but it was already picking up speed. “Shouldn’t that have been you?”
“My schedule was wiped out this morning. I figured whoever did that rescheduled my clients.”
“If they did, they forgot to tell me: the goddamn sergeant at arms of this goddamn club who’s goddamn responsible for all you goddamn women!”
Her head jerked back and her brown eyes went wide. “I—”
With his eyes closed, he pulled in a long breath through flared nostrils.
Even though he couldn’t see her, he could feel her presence when she went toe-to-toe with him.
“They were just trying to do something nice for me, Ash. We had a great day. Please don’t ruin it.”
The hand she placed on his gut had its typical effect: instantly extinguishing the fire raging inside him.
Wheels joked that the women were witches, but Rage swore Lyric had some kind of magical touch when it came to him.
She’d always had it.
Wheels knew the reason why, of course.
Magic.