It had been worth a shot, my mind told me.
Bite me, my heart sighed wearily.
The only thing I hadn't counted on in my grand plan was how flipping boring each day was when I wasn't working.
Boring as in nothing to do but think.
And remember.
Kick my own ass at my stupid naivety and hurt all over again.
I'd started wandering the stores, thinking of how I was going to decorate my new place when I finally got mom and dad settled somewhere with their in-home care. It wouldn't have to be big, maybe just a little one bedroom, but as it would be my first time on my own and I wanted to make it special.
So I trolled the different stores, big box and specialty, consignment and second-hand shops looking for things I liked. And since I'd need everything, it just made sense to price things out.
It only took two days for that shit to get old.
Which forced me to tell my folks yet another lie about being forced to take two weeks off due to a cap on accrued vacation allocation.
"Are you going to do anything special with that time, Lally?" my mom asked, dishing up the lasagna she'd prepared for our dinner. She had a lot more energy after the hospital's pharmacy had realigned and in some cases eliminated her medications. From what they said, she was taking a lot of them to counteract the side-effects of the others, but once they got it straightened out she became more like the mom I remembered.
"Like what?"
"Maybe go on a trip or book one of those spa weekend things?" my dad asked helpfully although I suspected he didn't have any more ideas of what I should do with my free time than I did.
"How about grabbing Trey and you two doing a romantic weekend?" Mom's sly yet shy smile had me shifting in my chair. I hadn't told them about Trey and didn't plan to.
"He's, ah, he's still traveling and doesn't know when he'll be back," I hedged.
"That's a shame, girl. I bet you're missing him something fierce. Do you remember that, Mary? When I'd get deployed and have to leave you and the kids?"
"Having your father gone was like missing a piece of myself. And I never felt whole again until he was home."
My stomach clenched painfully at her words and I knew I'd be replaying them later.
"Ah but when I came home…" my dad breathed.
I watched my mother as she reached for his hand and had to turn my head away, all traces of my appetite gone.
"Think I'll head over to my room," I announced and pushed back my chair. "Just bang on the wall when you're done and I'll come back to clean up the kitchen."
"Okay, Lally," my mother replied distractedly. "Mill, do you remember that time after your tour in the Pacific when…"
Letting my superfluous self out, I stood on the walkway and watched the lights of Missoula come on as the sun completed its last sky dance of the day.
'was like I was missing a piece of myself…'
The sigh that escaped my mouth felt as if it came from my toes.
*.*.*.*.*
You're getting fat, my mind whispered as I eyed my naked self in the mirror.
Maybe not so much fat as loose, my heart replied.
No matter what word I used, the image was the same. My body was no longer the shape it had been. With nothing to do and nowhere to go, I'd become a sedentary creature in just the week I'd been out of work.
My job had provided its own workout especially since I didn't allow the guys to take on any of the heavy lifting unless something was too much for me. Then we'd share the weight together. And the benefit of that was not having to worry about watching my weight.
I glanced at the small pooch my belly seemed to want to make and the beginnings of what appeared to be saddlebags at the top of my thighs. Oh, hell no.
That was all it took to convince me to start exercising. I need to move and jogging seemed to fit the bill to get me outside. There was a park about a half-mile up from our motel and I'd been watching the late night exercise infomercials (mainly to compare the men's hard bodies against what I'd seen up close and personal on Trey) and thought I could do some of those moves to work my upper body.
Jogging was a low cost sport. Shoes came cheap, as did the shorts and tank.
Another great thing about jogging was that even though it was a solitary activity, I was never alone when I was at the park. I didn't know if I was still a target for outing Greenway, but I was a firm believer in the rule about finding safety in numbers. There were people walking their dogs, people pushing strollers and kids playing their parents sitting on benches close to the playground.
There were other joggers too although some sprinted and some did a version of what I thought was a power walk. At first I had to do a kind of jog/walk thing but I was able to do four laps of the one city block sized park. By day four, I was able to jog two of those laps without stopping and was proud of my result.
Perhaps that was why I was so distracted when the long haired man approached me on the way back to my truck asking if I'd seen his lost dog. I completely missed all the danger signals flashing from him. "No," I answered.
"He's a cute little thing with a white coat and a perky ears." The man kept walking towards me, getting close enough for my internal alarm to begin to blare before two arms came from behind to cover my mouth and pin my arms as the lost dog ass-hat tasered me.
The bastard.
Chapter Twenty Three
It took Trey four days to screw up the nerve to go to Bishop's office. Four long days in which he argued both for and against Brand's suggestion until he finally realized he was quarreling with a fool.
After gaining Bishop's approval to enter, Trey sat in one of the visitor's chairs for a good two minutes before speaking.
"I want it," he growled and hated what he heard in his voice.
But his brother, a man he'd known since he was twelve, didn't blink an eye. Just clicked a few keys on one of the keyboards on his desk, glanced at a monitor and then wrote the address on a sticky note.
Practically snatching it from the man's hand, Trey hauled his ass up and out of the chair, exiting as fast as his feet could carry him.
"You're welcome and good luck!" Bishop's voice followed him all the way back to his office. Where he sat and stared at the yellow square for thirty full minutes.
"Fuck it," he mumbled, grabbing his cut and barreling out of his office. He passed by Rita who had the grace to duck her head as he went by. He'd heard Brand had been the one that had issued the rebuke to her and since then, she'd stayed clear of Trey except when specifically needed.
Trey had absolutely no fucking problem with that since the former Honey was still on his shit list.
He went to the clubhouse and found only a couple of brothers around but no one from his council. The address he was given was outside the Hellion perimeters and he didn't want to go it alone although he didn't necessarily want an audience either. "Donny! Need you to ride with me," he called across the room and saw one of the brothers, just a year out of recruit, stand. Trey was grateful the quiet younger man asked no questions but just got on his bike and followed his Prez's Harley as it wound throughout town.
A quick fifty to the clerk at the front desk gave him the room numbers for the Sheridans and after asking Donny to keep an eye out with a warning he might be a while, Trey climbed the stairs on legs that wanted to shake.
It's now or never, amigo, he thought as he hesitated at the first door. Knocking produced no results so he stepped to the other door hoping against hope she wasn't out taking her parents to one of their numerous doctor's appointments. But the door was opened quickly by a smiling Mary propped behind a walker.
"Trey! How nice to see you. Miller, it's Dallas's Trey!"
The motorcycle club's president was soon pulled into the efficiency apartment with a sweet kiss on the cheek by Mary and a hearty back slap by her husband.
"Have a seat, son! God, we're glad your back. Dallas will be so glad to see you." Miller was almost gushing in his enthu
siasm and the smile creasing the old man's face was sincere.
"Did you enjoy your travel? I mean, I know it was for business but did you enjoy your stay?" Mary asked.
What the fuck were they talking about? What kind of story had Dallas concocted because it was clear as damn day that she hadn't told her parents about their split or what had fucking caused it. Trey decided to go with the flow.
"It was good but I'm glad to be back. Is Dallas around?" He was willing to play the nice-nice game.
"She went to the park for her run but usually she's back by now. Did you try her room? She's right next door." Mary's words were said so fast Trey had trouble keeping up. She could've even given Si a run for his money when it came to quick-speak. "Maybe she's in the shower."
"Nope, can't hear the shower on in her place," Miller announced after listening with his head cocked towards the wall where their bed was placed.
"Do you know where she runs?" Trey was gritting his teeth. He wanted to see her, needed to be with her. They'd fucking taken too much time out of their lives already and Trey was fucking over it. It was time for the two them to shit or get off the pot.
"The park just up the road. What'd she say it was, about a half-mile up?"
"Yes, that's right. About a half-mile up. Did you try calling her? She can be back lickety-split, if she's not already on her way." Mary's breathing was moving into pants and Trey found his eyes zeroing in on her.
"Where's your pills, sweet Mary?" Trey didn't want a repeat of what happened after the brick incident and stood to go look at the line of pill bottles on the dresser.
"Oh, my. I didn't realize I had gotten so worked up," she exclaimed, beginning to fan herself.
Trey found the container for the nitroglycerin pills and brought it to her. "Do you take one or two?"
"Just one. I've been doing so much better, you know, so I'm not as tuned in to my body as I should be." One of her hands fluttered at her collar as Miller went to stand next to her, rubbing her shoulders with his one hand. She opened her mouth and Trey dropped the pill in.
"Calm yourself, my beauty," Miller whispered as he continued to rub his wife's back.
Trey watched as some of the color receded and Mary's breaths eased back while the medicine worked its magic.
"I think I let myself get too excited," she murmured with a shy look at Trey.
"I've heard I have that effect on women," he joked. "If you're doing better, I think I'll go look for my girl. Do you know if she walked or took her truck up there?"
"Her truck I think though I don't like this new one she bought. I know she said she was tired of making payments but this one's not as nice as the other," Miller answered.
"What color is it again?" Trey knew by adding the 'again' it made it sound like he and Dallas communicated. But he was well aware why she'd traded in her fucking sweet ride and it had shit-all to do with payments.
"Silver, I think," Mary replied sounding more like herself.
"Do you remember what she was wearing?"
"Ah, a black tank and black stretch shorts. Oh, but her running shoes are pink. Just look for someone wearing pink shoes and that's our Lally!"
"You know, I forgot my phone back at work. Could I use yours just to see if she's on her way here. I'd hate to miss her." He knew lying was underhanded but since she'd had her phone disconnected, he had no number to reach her.
"Sure, Trey. It's on the kitchen counter." Perfect! The phone was just around the corner, unseen from the rest of the room. Trey made short work of programming Dallas's new number into his cell.
"I'm anxious to see her so I'm gonna try and find her. I'll see you soon, Miller. And you, beautiful lady, keep an ear on that heart, okay?" Trey said before leaving, antsy to find her, to just be near her.
Making his way to Donny, he gave him the info on where they were going and who they were looking for. He also asked the brother to keep his eyes out for a 2009 Chevy truck, silver in color.
They found the park and Donny spotted the truck but neither one of them saw anyone, jogger or otherwise, dressed in black and sporting pink kicks.
"Shit, it's locked up tight and I see an alarm," Trey murmured after trying both doors before cupping his hands around his eyes to see inside.
"On it," Donny mumbled, pulling a small black rectangle from his pocket. He pointed the box at the truck and pushed a few buttons. Trey heard the sweet beep of the alarm disengaging as the locks on both doors popped.
"You’re a fucking genius, amigo!" he cried, gaining Trey a quirk of a lip from Donny. Opening the door, he couldn't help his deep inhale as he smelled her. Clean, real and true hit his nose, his brain, his heart and his cock all at the same time. And almost brought him to his knees. "Where are you, Tex?" he whispered into the empty cab.
"We could, like, ask around. The kicks are distinctive. Maybe someone, like, saw her or something."
"You want the playground or the BB court?"
"Don't matter," came Donny's reply.
They split up and it only took Trey three tries before one young mother spoke up. "Yeah, she runs almost every day. She was here until about a half-hour ago."
"Did you see where she went?" Trey signaled to Donny who trotted across the large expanse of grass to where Trey stood.
"Two guys wearing a vest thing like you took her to their van. Only their vests were gray."
"Thank you. We really appreciate your help," Donny said after both the woman and the younger man waited for Trey to end the conversation, but he never uttered a word.
The fucking Ghosts had his Dallas!
*.*.*.*.*
I was awakened by loud music. Goddamn Drake! I'd told him and told him to keep the volume down. I shook my head to clear it as I tried to push the covers off, intending to bang on his door and rip him a new one.
But I couldn't move.
Wait…what?
I opened my eyes but I wasn't at home. In the little bit of light coming around the cracks in the door to my right, I thought I was in some kind of closet.
I glanced down and saw I was sitting in on a chair. Trying to move, my tight shoulders wrenched. I tried to twist my wrists and move my hands but I couldn't feel a damn thing. Finally it came to me that my hands were tied and so tightly, they were numb. My ankles were tied too, but at least I had feeling in them.
What the hell?
I shook my head again trying to remember…oh yeah. The park, jogging, the lost dog guy and whoever had been behind me.
The memory sent my heart into overdrive, my body to trembling and with an almost sharp pain as I began to sweat. A whimper escaped as I wildly tried to see around me. But other than it being a small space with a cheap wooden door, the dark corners gave no other clues.
My mouth was dry but luckily uncovered. Licking my lips, I considered screaming or yelling but without more information, I was scared of who might respond and what their response might be.
Shit! I was shaking uncontrollably, my tank top sodden with sweat. I tried twisting my hands in an effort to get a sense of any slackness in my restraints but they were so numb and my shoulders so sore I couldn't feel if the movement helped or hindered.
Get a grip and think, Dallas! But my brain was mush, which I was sure an aftereffect of my tazering.
The music changed to a different song without a pause in between.
I tried pulling my ankles apart but they were tied so closely together that my anklebones felt bruised. Instead, I lifted one heel and felt the rope, or whatever they'd used to secure me, move. Progress! Even if it was only in micro-millimeters.
The music again caught my attention but I couldn't tell why. It wasn't my style at all but I put it to good use as I did the toe-heel thing with my feet. I used the driving beat to keep time and felt the slightest shift, a tiny loosening in the confines of what held me. Plus the movement helped provide a small outlet for the adrenaline that was still rushing through my body.
My hair was sticking to my sweaty face, drivin
g me crazy because I couldn't brush it away from my skin. Which was almost as irritating as the tunes being played so loud. How did I know that music? I knew I'd heard the songs before, more than a few times. But when and where?
I stopped the little dance routine I had going and wondered about the lack of a pause in between one number and the next. Somehow that bothered me too. On every music device I'd ever listened to there was a break of a few seconds between the tunes. But not with the stuff thumping from above.
Above? As in, I was in a basement or was it simply the ground floor of where ever I was?
New music came on and I went back to my little two-step although my calves were starting to burn.
My mind drifted to the guys in my crew, which I found strange. Tied up and stashed in some kind of closet shouldn't make someone think of their co-workers. But it didn't seem to be a random consideration so I let my thoughts go where they wanted. Danny, Cal, Jimmy. Nothing stuck when I saw them in my mind. Tony, Big Mark and Gene. Wait, Gene? Yeah, Gene and Rocky. And the music.
"What the hell are we listening to," I yelled, covering my ears. The rule in our truck was one crew member got to pick the music of the day on our ride to and from the jobsite. That day it had been Gene's turn.
"It's my Tomatoes playlist! Good ain't it?" The smile on Gene's face had a sly note to it.
"Tomatoes?"
"Yeah, the titty bar. This is the playlist from what they spin as the girls strip and work the poles," Rocky had taken up the slack of Gene's explanation.
"I wrote it down one night when the dancers weren't doing anything for me. Uploaded the songs when I got home. But I couldn't make one song bleed into the next like they do."
"Don't cha hate when that happens?" Big Mark had asked to the cab at large.
Jesus, I remembered thinking. And I thought I had no life.
Was I in the basement of a strip club?
Chapter Twenty Four
Fucking bloody hell! Trey's mind wouldn't slow down enough so he could think clearly and he was so fucking angry he could roar.
The Possibility of Trey (A Hellion MC Novel) Page 19
