We did. But…
Before I can finish the thought, the door is opened by a blond who’s covering her mouth in an effort to hide a yawn. Her eyes widen. “Oh my.”
The sight of two bikers on her doorstep, and a third waiting in the road, take her aback. Too slowly, she tries to close the door, but is prevented by my well-placed boot. My hand applying gentle pressure on her shoulder, I push her inside.
“I’ve got no money,” she squeals, looking around in dismay.
“Ma’am. We’re not here to fuckin’ rob ya,” Slick barks to reassure her.
“We just want to ask a few questions is all.” I back him up.
Her eyes flicking wildly between us, she seems completely confused. “What? Who?” She swallows and tries again. “Why are you here?”
“Thompson. Ronald Thompson. You know him?” When I’d seen her, the immediate explanation that would fit was that she’s just the tenant, and him her landlord.
“He’s my boyfriend.” And like that my previous assumption is blown right out of the water. “He lives here with me.”
We’ve clearly woken her up. She yawns again, widely, as I process what she’s just said. Fuck me, he’s not missing Alex at all. Didn’t take him more than a minute to find someone else.
“You been with him long, sweetheart?” Slick’s followed me into the house.
She shrugs, and frowns as though considering whether it’s any of our business, but clearly can’t see the harm in telling us as she replies, “Six years, give or take.”
What the fuck? My eyes widen as I realise Thompson’s had a bit on the side all the time he’s been married to Alex. Tyler’s only just six for fuck’s sake. He must have started it while she was pregnant, if not very soon after the birth. And it doesn’t make sense. Why did he stay with Alex and keep up pretences? Why not just leave her and live with the blond? Something doesn’t add up. I owe him nothing at all, and have no qualms dropping him in it. “You do know he’s married?”
She doesn’t even flinch. “Yeah. The bitch gives him hell. Refuses to give him a divorce. He left her, but she’s being a right cow about it. Won’t let him see his son unless he pays her money.”
But Alex isn’t getting a penny from him. And he doesn’t even see the kid. Right about now, the conversation I wanted to have with him is getting rewritten in my head, and it’s going to be fucking harder than ever not to push his teeth down his throat. But I’ll have to hold that in check until I get some fucking answers. I was right about that smell, and the need to track down the source.
“Where is he?” Slick growls.
“Not here.”
“He at work?” Not that I really care. I’ll be waiting here when he arrives home.
“No, he’s not.” Now that she’s woken up a bit she’s come to her senses and her body language starts screaming that she doesn’t like us being in the house. “He had some rest days, has gone out of town for a week.”
Fuck it! I thought this would be over and done within a couple of days, now it seems my stay in Cali will be longer. But where’s he gone? And why alone? “You didn’t get to go with him?”
“I work. I’m a nurse and work nights,” she explains, confirming we had indeed disturbed her rest. “He’s gone to visit a friend.”
You don’t survive my kind of life by ignoring any prickling feeling suggesting something’s wrong. “Know where this friend might live, darlin’?”
My body is already tensing as she replies, “Tucson, he said.”
Fuck!
“When did he leave?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“Yesterday morning.”
Double fuck!
I start pulling Slick out of the door and back toward our bikes. He remembers his manners, throwing a quick thank you over his shoulder. I’ve got my phone in my hand as I swing my leg astride.
“Prez. We’ve got a fuckin’ problem. Seems Thompson’s come up to Tucson. Left yesterday. We must have fuckin’ passed him on the road.” Yeah. While I was getting my dick sucked last night, Thompson was on fucking his way to the city where Alex and Tyler are hiding out. “Can you send someone to check on them?”
“What? No. She doesn’t have a fuckin’ phone.” I meant to get her one and it had slipped my mind. “I don’t know her sister’s number either.”
“Thanks, Prez. I’m on my way back. “Sure, send Tongue and Beef to see if everything’s right. Can they let me know they’re okay?”
I hear voices and then hurried instructions. Drum’s not wasting a moment making sure Thompson hasn’t gone after Alex. I bang my hand on the handlebars, utterly frustrated I’m not there to help. Fucking coincidence I’ve come to San D when her bastard of an ex is in Arizona. Prez is still talking.
“What? What do you mean don’t come back?” I listen to the words he’s saying and I don’t like it one bit, but he does have a point. There’s probably nothing I can do back home that my brothers can’t do equally well, but it doesn’t sit right with me, I want to be the one to ensure Alex’s protection. But as Drummer goes on to explain, I can’t fault his reasoning, and albeit reluctantly, I agree.
A few more words then we hang up. Mouse comes alongside and puts his hand on my arm. “Steady, Brother. You can’t travel alone. Slick and I will come with.”
“Not going back, Mouse.” I rub my hand over the short beard on my chin, realising I’m worried sick about Alex and I can’t even fuckin’ ring her! “Drum told us to head back to the San D clubhouse and wait until we find out what’s going on. Tongue and Beef are on their way to see her now, and depending what they find, might get them to go to the club for safety. He said they’ll contact us as soon as they know the score and we’ll decide what to do from there.”
I put my key in the ignition and press the button, my Harley starts with a roar. Fuck, and I thought this would be easy. Come here, meet Thompson, get the lay of the land and sort things out for Alex and Tyler, either with words or whatever other persuasion he needs, then get the hell out of Dodge. But now I’m playing a waiting game, and that isn’t something I do easily.
A quick look behind me shows Slick and Mouse already on their sleds. Waving my hand over my head, I’m off, only just able to stay within a respectable range of the speed limits to avoid getting pulled over. Wouldn’t be no use to anyone sitting in a cell. As I ride, all I can think is why this great fucking coincidence? Why has Thompson waited until now before staking his claim?
It’s a question we address as soon as we get back to the clubhouse, well, after Slick’s rounded up a sweet butt to make coffee for us. With a possible six-hour ride coming up, all of us make our own decision to stay off the beer.
“Why now?” Slick puts my question into words.
“Been givin’ that some thought.” Mouse refreshes his ponytail, making my hand go up to check my bun. “We know cops are a pretty close-knit family, and I reckon he had the Tucson guys keepin’ an eye on Alex. This visit coincides with her taking a job at the Angels. Fucker like him might be the possessive type and not like the thought of other men eyein’ his woman.”
“Can’t be that fuckin’ possessive to have another woman on the side.”
“Don’t work that way, Dart. She’s married to him, he could still see her as somethin’ that’s his. A possession. But hey, I’m just guessin’ at reasons. It’s the only thing that makes any sense to me.”
We can’t know why, but just need to deal that Thompson’s in a place where I’m not.
“I feel sorry for her.” I’m not only sorry, I’m angry. “She’s tried so hard to stay under the radar. Did everythin’ right. What she wasn’t aware of is his contacts in different police forces. Bet he’s known where she’s been almost since the day she arrived.”
“I said that before,” Mouse agrees. “She thinks he doesn’t know about her sister, but he’s a cop for fucks sake. He would leave no stone unturned. Be shit easy for him to send some of the Tucson colleagues to the locale and check it out.”
<
br /> If she’d come to us earlier, we’d have found her someplace better to hide. But then, why should she have? She’s a law-abiding citizen who doesn’t know fuck about how the underworld works. And that includes the police.
Our coffee arrives. Fuck, I wish it was something stronger, but I need to keep my head straight. When my phone rings in my pocket I take it out without delay, almost dropping it on the floor in my haste.
“Tongue?”
“What’s happened?”
“What the fuck?” Mouse and Slick look at me intently, straining to hear the voice at the other end of the phone.
“You’ve spoken to Celine and Craig? Did they see anything?”
“FUCK!”
“Keep me posted, okay?”
“What’s going on, Brother?” Slick’s half out of his seat, prepared to go, stay, whatever I need him to do.
Brushing my hand over my hair, I shake my head, then look from one to the other, not quite sure what to say. “Alex and Tyler have gone missing. Celine got home yesterday and they were gone. Her car’s still there, her clothes… But they’ve disappeared.” The fear smashes into me, making my heart lose its rhythm and sweat to break out on my hands. “They’ve fuckin’ gone,” I yell, unable to keep my pain and anguish inside. It hits me that she’s not just a dancer. In the short time I’ve known her, she’s become a friend. And having a woman as a friend is alien territory for me. I care about her, and the fact she’s disappeared hits me as hard as it would had I lost any one of my brothers. And add that smart kid into the mix… I slide my hands around until they’re cupping my cheeks, feeling helpless for the first time in my life. I want, have, to help her. I want to be there to protect her. And I don’t have a clue where to start. Fuck.
“Calm, Brother. She might have got wind of Thompson being around and took off on her own.”
With my voice rising I tell him the rest. “There’s no fuckin’ doubt about it. Tyler was picked up from school. By his fuckin’ father.”
My outburst has attracted attention. Snake and Lost have appeared.
“What the fuck’s going on?”
My watering eyes show my torment, and while it’s not correct, I don’t argue with Slick’s phrasing when he responds to the San Diego prez. “Dart’s woman. She’s disappeared. Bastard ex of a husband has taken her and her young son.”
Snake stares at me, but only a second later he’s circling his hand over his head and shouting as only an MC prez can. “Church, boys!” Then he rests his hand on my shoulder. “Whatever you need, Brother.”
Turning my head toward him, I can’t find the words, but raise my chin to him in thanks. I might not be in my own clubhouse, may not even know the names of some of the men, but we’re all Satan’s Devils. Pushing myself up out of the chair, unsteady on my feet, I walk beside Slick and Mouse and enter into the hallowed room. I hover for a moment, until I’m pointed to a chair. I’m on automatic pilot. Alex, where the fuck are you? And how’s Tyler coping seeing his dad? And is Thompson keeping his hands off them both?
Chapter 11
Alex
The barbeque I’d gone to at the clubhouse had been nothing like I’d expected. Sure, it was very man heavy, and all of them looking like the rough bikers they are, but I didn’t feel threatened or out of place for one moment. The old ladies—it seems strange to refer to women my age as that—had been welcoming, and everyone, both male and female, so kind to both me and my son.
The chance to get out and make new female friends had been wonderful, and I’d already been thoroughly enjoying myself when their president dropped that bombshell on me. Not only had they extended the hand of friendship, but they’d come up with an idea to help raise money toward getting Tyler the treatment he needs. It might end up only being a small drop in a very large ocean, but what had blown me away was they cared enough to make the suggestion.
I’d still been bemused when I’d got back to Celine’s, still unable to believe this group of strangers are going to help me raise money for Tyler. Why would they bother? They owe me nothing, the tenuous link is only that they own the club where I work, and I’ve only been there for less than a week. Other people I’ve told my son’s story to might have offered sympathy at the most, but not a suggestion of practical assistance.
Realistically, I know time’s running out. Tyler’s now six, and that means it could already be too late to convince any doctor to try a transplant. We’re at the point now that we have to try something. If I do nothing, he lives with that threat hanging over him every day of his life. A stem cell transplant could be a complete cure and might give Tyler the chance of a normal life. For the first time in months, maybe even years, Drummer’s offer to help raise money has made me feel optimistic. Maybe there’s more I can do to get what I need myself. Instead of wallowing, it’s given me the push to begin coming up with ideas myself. The kick up the backside to do something, anything. I owe it to my son to try.
When I awake Monday morning it’s with a sense of purpose to do more than just cope and exist. Ron never cared, but suddenly, with this club of bikers behind me, I wonder whether there might be light at the end of the tunnel after all. People raise money for causes all the time, perhaps I should bury my pride and see what’s available to help my boy.
I don’t have long to think about it, Tyler’s up already, running into my room wearing his cartoon pyjamas, and I take a moment to notice he looks like any other kid as he jumps on my bed and gives me a hug and a kiss. It’s our way in which we start the day, and I can’t think of anything better as I tickle my son, making him giggle and squirm.
The rest of the morning proceeds as normal. Cutting an end to his antics, I get myself out of bed and dressed, and him ready for school. Having seen him off to the bus, I’m suddenly at a loss. Yesterday’s amazing outcome has got me buzzing with energy, a nervous excitement, and my mind’s working ten to the dozen.
I’ve got the whole day to myself, no working tonight, and the house is empty, both Celine and Craig are at work. While my brain’s racing, thinking of possibilities, I decide to keep myself active by being useful. Even though I’m now bringing in some money, Celine will only accept the minimum for food. Doing housework will keep my hands occupied, and help her in some small way.
By mid morning, I’ve cleaned the kitchen, started a load of laundry, and tidied all the toys in the living room away. I take out the vacuum and go to plug it in when there’s a loud knock.
My heart leaps when it shouldn’t. Maybe it’s Dart? But I realise I hadn’t heard a loud motorcycle pull up, so tamp down my anticipation as I go to open the door. Despite my warnings to Tyler, I’m not even cautious, just fling it open wide. And then I have cause to remember my own instructions. Always check before opening the door.
“My dear wife.” The words might be sweet, the tone of delivery anything but.
Quickly I try to slam the door closed, but I’m not fast enough. He’s ahead of me there, putting his foot in gap to stop me.
A chilling shiver runs down my spine, but I try to stop my voice from shaking, imbibing it with a strength I don’t feel. “Why are you here, Ron?” I’ve been here two months, apart from thinking he’d no idea where I’d gone, I hadn’t expected he’d even want to look. Now that he’s standing in front of me, it’s like my nightmare turned into reality. Although my voice might be steady, my trembling hand still holding onto the door betrays me. And when he reaches out his arm, his fingers painfully biting into mine, I feel a flicker of fear.
“I’ve come to take you home. Back where you belong.”
The coldness in his voice does nothing to reassure me. My heart starts to pound in my chest. Going anywhere with him would be a bad mistake. I try to shrug of his touch, he just tightens his hand.
While knowing it’s probably useless, I try to reason with him. “You can’t want me back, Ron. Let’s be sensible about this. I’m out of your hair and not asking for anything. Surely you’re better off living on your own?”
/> His face darkens, and his features rearrange themselves into the expression I’d last seen that day in the kitchen just before he’d hit me. “I’d have left you alone if you hadn’t brought shame on the family. Fuck, Alex. You’ve been whoring yourself out.”
Oh shit. He knows I work at a strip club. But how does he know? His description of what he thinks I’m doing gets my blood boiling. “I’m not whoring myself out as you put it so nicely. I’m dancing.”
“You’re taking your clothes off.” He’s getting angry now, and I regret speaking back to him. That flicker of fear rapidly morphs into full blown panic.
The words to try and justify myself tumble out quickly. “I don’t take all of them off. No one’s ever seen me naked, except for you Ron.”
The slap around my face isn’t totally unexpected, but there was such force behind it, for a moment I see stars. He takes the opportunity to uncurl my fingers from the door and drag me out onto the porch. There’s a car waiting, engine still running. I can’t let him take me away.
Regaining my senses, I pull hard against him, but he’s too strong and is winning, inch by inch. My mind’s working. At least he’s only come for me and not Tyler. Celine will look after him as if he was her own. If I go with him, he’ll kill me.
A sense of self-preservation makes me scream, but it’s a workday and the houses around appear empty. Either that or no one wants to get involved.
“Shut up!” he snarls. “If you don’t want to worry the boy, you come quietly.”
What?
“Yeah, that got your attention, didn’t it, bitch? I went to the school and collected Tyler. He’s waiting in the car and watching us right now. I suggest you do what I say and don’t fight me.” One side of his mouth turns up in a twisted grin. “There’s no way you’d win, Alex. And Tyler will witness what happens when you disobey.”
He’s got Tyler? How? The school wouldn’t let anyone but me or Celine take him, would they? Then I realise there’s little doubt he’s telling the truth, probably all he needed to do was flash his police identification. All resistance leaves me, I can’t abandon my son to this monster. Reluctantly I let him take me to the SUV and get me settled in the front. As he’s doing so, I turn and try to summon up a smile for my son sitting in the rear seat. His bottom lip is quivering, but he says nothing at all. Par for the course around Ron. I notice he’s at least remembered to bring a booster seat. Jesus, how long has he been planning this?
Targeting Dart (Satan's Devils MC #4) Page 11
