She nods.
“Okay.”
I don’t know what possesses me to do it—maybe seeing how stressed she is—but I dip my head and press a kiss to her hair. She glances up at me with those vivid green eyes and I want to dip my head lower and take her mouth.
Instead, I clear my throat and promise her, “I’ll find him.”
Chapter Eighteen
I don’t let on to Chloe, but I’m worried as fuck about the kid. I know he’s a teen, and teens do crazy shit, but this seems out of character for Jesse. He’d know his sister would worry, so I can’t see him going off without a word.
She presses her body against me, feeling small and delicate in my arms. I want to engulf her completely and wrap her up in my assurances, but I can’t. I still don’t know where Jesse is. I force myself to let go of her, as much as it pains me to do it. I could hold on to her forever.
When she pulls back, I see the tears brimming in her eyes and the anxiety etched into every inch of her face.
“I’m worried,” she admits.
“I’ll find him,” I repeat. And I will. There’s no alternative but to find the kid. I’m not coming back to Chloe without him. “I need you to gather all his friends’ details together for when I get back.”
“Back?” Her brow draws together. “From where?”
“Your father’s.”
Her eyes flare. “Oh my God! You think my father has him?”
“I don’t think shit, but it’s the obvious place to start.”
She clutches my arms. “You can’t go there. What if he hurts you?”
Her concern is touching, but unnecessary. “I can take care of myself.”
“Weed…”
“Quit worrying, Chloe. I’ll be fine.”
She closes her eyes and when she reopens them, says, “I’ll come with you.”
“Absolutely not.”
“He’s my brother.”
“And you could get hurt.”
“So could you.”
I smile at her. “The only person who is going to get hurt is your father if he has your brother.”
I watch as she nibbles on her bottom lip. “You see, saying things like this is why I’m worried.”
“I’ll ask some of my brothers to meet me there. Does that make you feel better?”
“No. I’m still coming.”
“Chloe,” I growl her name, but she holds up her hand.
“This isn’t up for debate. I’m coming, Weed, whether you like it or not.”
I scowl, wondering if I can force her to stay behind, but I doubt it.
“Fine. You can come, but you do everything I tell you.” With her arse on the line now too, I drop a 999 message to my brothers, telling them I need help and the address to meet me at.
Outside, I head for my bike, but I sense Chloe slowing down. When I glance over my shoulder to see why, she’s staring at my bike like it might bite her.
“What’s wrong?”
“The bike… we’re going on it?”
“It’s faster. I don’t want to risk getting stuck in traffic. Besides, what choice do we have? You don’t have a car, right?”
“No, but—”
“But nothing. Time is of the essence here, Chlo. I want to find him quickly.”
I see the warring emotions crossing her face before she steps towards me. “You’re going to have to tell me how to ride. I’ve never been on a bike before.”
“It’s easy, baby.”
She flushes at the endearment that slipped so easily, so naturally from my mouth. I should care, but right now, my sole focus is on her, so I don’t correct the word.
She grabs Jesse’s helmet from inside the house, the one he uses whenever he’s on my bike, and I help her put it on. This puts us so close to each other that I have to stop my eyes from exploring her.
I go through quickly what she needs to do to be a good passenger, and then I climb on the bike once I’m sure she understands. Chloe gets on behind me, using my shoulders to steady herself and when she sits behind me, the heat of her at my back makes my body sit up and take notice.
I expect her to hold onto my shoulders, but Chloe surprises the fuck out of me by wrapping her arms around my waist. This brings her flush to my back and I swallow hard as her tits press into my spine. This might be more than I can deal with.
“Hold on,” I tell her over my shoulder, trying to retain my cool. Then I peel off up the road.
Chloe plasters herself to my back, her face buried in my shoulder as I weave between the traffic. I’m grateful for the bike because the line of cars is long. We’d be sitting in it if we were in a cage.
I lane split between the cars and we manage to get across town quickly. Chloe stays nestled behind me the whole ride and when I finally stop the bike outside their father’s house, the journey seems to take too short a time. I promise myself once we’ve found Jesse I’m taking her out again in the future when we have time to ride properly.
Chloe climbs off the bike, wobbling a little and I get off after her, placing both our helmets on the seat, even as my gaze locks on the house.
It doesn’t look any different from the last time I was here, but it feels different. This situation has a hint of urgency about it, and I’m not afraid to admit I’m scared something has happened to Jesse.
A rumble of pipes catches my attention and when I glance up, I see Wade, Adam and Logan. In my entire life, I’ve never had a single person I could rely on until I joined the Lost Saxons. Now, I call and they come—no questions asked. It’s a heady feeling, one that fills me with warmth, replacing the cold memories of the past.
Logan is first to get his helmet off. “What’s going on?”
I quickly explain the situation to the three brothers and when I’m done, they all look varying levels of pissed off.
“So, you think he’s in the house?” Adam asks, peering up at the property.
“Honestly, I have no idea,” I admit. “All I know is his dad was adamant about getting money from him, and he’s a sloppy as fuck drunk. He might just throw sense aside if he thinks he’s going to get something from him.”
Like his wages.
I turn to Chloe, who is eyeing the lads with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity.
“You wait here.”
“Weed!” She looks furious, but I don’t care. There’s no way in hell she’s coming inside with me.
“I mean it. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
She huffs. “I’m not some weak girl that you need to protect. He’s my brother and—”
“I know all this. You’re not weak, Chloe, not at all, but if something happens to you…”
I break off, gritting my teeth together, unable to put into words what it would do to me.
She’s not content to let it lie, though, and pushes me for answers.
“What, Weed? What would you do if something happened to me?”
I dip my head close, aware of my brothers at my back. I don’t need the ribbing I’ll get.
“Let’s just make sure nothing does happen to you, so we don’t have to test it, yeah?”
She lets out a long breath. “I don’t know where I stand with you.”
I don’t know this either. I spend all my time warring with desire and logic. It’s exhausting.
“What does it matter?”
“You’re giving me whiplash.”
I should discuss it more, but now isn’t the time and even if it was, I’m not sure I could open up to her anyway. It’s not in me to talk about my feelings.
“Promise me you’ll stay here, that you’ll stay safe.”
She stares at me for a moment, then sighs, the resignation in her voice hitting me in the gut.
“Fine.”
“Thank you,” I tell her, sincerely meaning it.
“Don’t thank me yet,” she mutters. “First sign of trouble, I won’t wait by like some damsel who needs saving, Weed.”
“Understood.”
&
nbsp; I’ll do everything in my power to keep her safe. Everything.
I turn back to the brothers, who are eyeing me. I see the question on their faces, but no one says anything as I brush past them, muttering, “Come on.”
Logan and Wade head around the back of the house while Adam moves to the front door with me. I knock. Yeah, I know. Polite, right? But it’s better to be granted access than attempting to kick the door down or pick the lock.
After a moment of no movement, I nod to Adam, who pulls out his lockpick kit.
Just as he’s about to put it in the lock, the door tugs open.
Allen is standing on the other side, his small eyes bleary. He looks like shit. His tee is stained, his facial hair is a scraggly mess and the aftermath of my last beating is still evident in the fading bruising to his face.
His eyes widen as they take me in.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
I don’t answer. I just push past him and into the house, ignoring the squeals of protest. I’m not sure what to expect as I step inside, but it becomes clear that Michael Allen hasn’t done any cleaning since I was last here. The house is in a worse state, in fact. There is filth layering the floors and every available surface. It’s awful.
“Home sweet home,” Adam grumbles, before heading to the back door to let his brother and Wade in. Both men make the room feel small when they step inside the kitchen. Wade at six-foot-five is the biggest brother, but Logan is built in every other way. He’s huge and maybe an inch shorter than Wade, but he’s bulkier. His little brother isn’t so little either. The four of us make for a scary as fuck sight, and if Allen has any sense, he should be terrified—especially considering the way Wade is eyeballing him.
Wade didn’t have the greatest upbringing either. His father was an aggressive bastard. Piper, his half-sister, escaped that, but growing up with her mum wasn’t the greatest fun either. She’s a legit psycho.
Moving methodically through the downstairs rooms, searching, Allen protesting the entire time that we can’t be in his house, there’s no sign of Jesse.
“Is he here?” I demand, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and dragging him closer.
Allen swallows hard and shakes his head. “He begged me to come home.”
Bile fills my belly. I doubt Jesse begged him for anything. When his eyes slide towards the stairs, I follow his line of sight. Then I release him with a shove.
“Wait with him,” I tell Wade and Logan, who nod in agreement.
I can see the anger radiating from them both before I head upstairs, Adam on my heels.
As I approach Jesse’s room, I see there’s a new addition to his door—a padlock. It looks like a cheap one you can pick up from any hardware store, but it’d be enough to stop a scrawny teenager escaping.
Heat rises in my blood and I’m not sure how I manage to grind out to Adam, “Open it,” because I’m about ready to lose my shit if the boy is locked in here.
Adam gets it open and pops the padlock up before sliding it off the ring.
He glances at me, a wicked-looking knife in his hand. “Ready?”
“Ready,” I confirm.
He flicks the handle down and pushes the door open. Jesse’s room, which had previously been the only tidy space in the house, is now a disaster. There’s shit everywhere. I don’t know what it is, since we cleared his room out last time we were here, but there are papers littering the floor and old cartons of takeout on the small bedside table. Considering the teen has only been missing a short time, I have to guess the mess isn’t his.
My eyes go to the bed. Lying sprawled on his front, his head tipped to the side, is Jesse. His dark hair is dripping into his eyes, which are black and swollen shut. He’s wearing a tee and jeans, his feet bare. The air in here is frosty, too cold to be without covers, which have been removed from the bed, leaving him on just the bare mattress.
My heart starts to race beneath my ribs as my anger and fear war with each other. I’m afraid he’s dead because he’s not moving (that I can see), and I’m pissed as fuck at the state of him. He’s taken a hell of a beating.
Slowly, I approach him, not sure if I’m about to lose it. I feel like I might be, but I need to keep it together for the kid. I don’t want to freak him out.
I crouch down at the side of the bed. “Jesse?”
To my unending relief, his eyes flutter.
“Jess, wake up, kid.”
He opens his eyes a slither, which is all he can manage.
“That’s it,” I coerce, “open up.”
His throat works a little as he says in a raw voice, “Weed?”
It about breaks my fucking heart. The relief and disbelief in his voice tears through me. I’m going to kill Allen. Nothing will stop me this time. I’m going to kick his fucking arse into oblivion. That cunt is breathing his last breaths.
I glance over my shoulder to Adam, who looks as enraged as I feel. “I need a cage to take Jess and Chloe back to the clubhouse.”
He nods. “I’ll call a prospect.”
I wait until he’s left the room to make the call before I turn back to Jesse. “Kid, do you think you can sit up?”
He swallows. “Yeah.”
I help him off his stomach and into a sitting position. He holds his ribs the entire time, and I wonder what other damage is hidden beneath his clothes.
I give him a second to recalibrate his brain and when he peers up at me through his mess of hair, I want to wrap my arms around him and tell him it’ll be okay.
After a moment, he says in a small voice. “I knew you’d come.”
These four words slay me. I’m no hero, but right now, I feel like his. “Always, kid. I’ll always come for you.”
It’s not a promise I make lightly and it’s one I intend to keep. Guilt rages through me that he’s hurting again. I should have put Allen in the ground last time.
“Do you know where your shoes are?”
“Uh… no. He took them.”
I grit my teeth. “Can you stand under your own steam?”
His throat works, but there’s determination in his face when he says, “I think so.”
I help him up and I don’t miss the wince as he moves from sitting to upright, nor do I miss the way he wavers on his feet.
“Easy, buddy.”
“Sorry.” He swallows hard.
“Don’t apologise.”
I’m itching to ask him what happened, how he ended up back here, but he’s in no shape for an interrogation. Besides, my need to get him out of this shithole overrides everything else.
I help him down the stairs, worried about what the fuck he’s standing on as we move. We take each step one at a time and when we reach the bottom, Allen sees us and his face becomes a mask of irritation.
“You can’t take him. He’s my son.”
I glare at him. “I’m coming back to sort this out.”
He pales. “I told you he wanted to be here.”
“The padlocked door says otherwise.”
Logan swears under his breath, while Wade grits his teeth, muttering, “Bastard.”
He’s more than a bastard, but I’m not going to say anything more in front of Jesse. “I’m taking him outside. Don’t let that fucker go anywhere.”
Wade tightens his grip on Allen’s shoulder, holding him in place on the sofa. “We won’t.”
I believe it. For Wade, this is as personal as it is for me.
“Come on, kid.” I steer Jesse towards the front door and out into the fresh air. It’s bitingly cold today, the January weather definitely on the wintry side. I have a spare hoodie in my bike locker, which I’ll give him to put on. The kid is collecting my sweaters—not that I care. I’ll clothe him any time.
As soon as we exit the house, Chloe rounds on us from where she’s standing at the bike. She gasps as she locks eyes on her brother, her hands flying to her face.
“Oh my God. What did he do to you?” Chloe looks like she wants to touch him
, whether to reassure herself or him, I’m not sure, but she doesn’t. She probably doesn’t know where to touch him without hurting him.
I move away to grab the sweater and once I have it free of the pannier, I offer it to Jess, who is trembling—from the cold or the situation, I don’t know. Probably both.
Chloe helps him put it on, all the while her eyes filled with tears. I then take my boots off and remove my socks, which I give to him before I put my bare feet back into my boots.
“A prospect’s coming to pick you both up,” I tell her. “He won’t be long.”
Although given the traffic on the way here, who knows.
“Both? You’re not coming with us?” Chloe asks.
I stare at her, noting the challenge in her tone. She knows what I’m doing. Not that I care. I don’t have to explain my actions to her.
“Weed?” she presses when I don’t reply.
“I’ve got shit to take care of first.”
Her mouth pulls into a line and she tugs me slightly away from Jesse who has sunk down onto the front lawn, as if his legs no longer want to support him.
“You mean my father.” She glances towards the house. “He’s in there?”
“He’s in there,” I confirm.
“You can’t touch him.”
I grit my teeth. “Yeah, babe, I can. You see, I’m tired of giving him warnings. He’s out.”
She pales. “Weed—”
I lean closer and hiss in her face. “Do you think he’s going to stop terrorising Jesse? He gets off on the power of it, Chloe. He likes to hurt him. That’s a drug greater than any available out there. He’s never going to stop with Jesse until someone stops him or Jesse winds up dead. I’m not keen on the latter idea.”
I watch her bite her lip. “Me neither.”
My hands go to her shoulders, rubbing down them. “Chlo, let me handle this, please. Let me take care of you and Jesse.”
She searches my face, which I keep impassive. “What are you going to do to him?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
She peers at the house. “We should just call the police. We have enough evidence this time of an assault.”
Flawed Rider: A Lost Saxons Novel #6 Page 13
