Rebel (Devil's Tears MC Book 3)

by Daniela Jackson

  Tyler squeezes my shoulder. “We’ll find her.”

  I move through the maze of corridors once again, knocking on the doors, asking the hotel guests about Star and nothing.

  A feeling stirs on the edge of my consciousness. Something is very wrong.

  Two hours later, panic strangles my throat. There’s no trace of Star as though she really has vanished. All the club members are searching for her—I can hear the echoes of their commands. Tyler calls Ashley.

  He moves towards the small burial ground separated from the garden by a high stone wall and talks to the sheriff for fifteen minutes then grabs my arm and drags me towards where our bikes are parked.

  “Tyler, you fucking—“

  “Let’s go.”

  There’s something about the tone of his voice that I fall silent and jump on my bike. We roar across the town centre and park in front of the sheriff’s office. Ashley is waiting for us in the doorway. She waves her hand, turns around and leads us to a small room with a desk and metal furniture. Two photos of her kids stand on the windowsill.

  “Sit down,” she says, her face white like there’s no blood in her veins.

  A wrinkle forms between her eyes as we drop into two chairs.

  “What’s going on?” I rasp. “My wife—“

  “Nobody knows,” Ashley starts. I don’t like the sharp tinge in her voice. “I didn’t know until an hour ago. The Feds have sent me some papers.” She takes a deep breath as her eyes slide over the magnolia walls before she fixes them on me. “There may be a serial killer in our area.”

  “There may be the fuck what?” I explode.

  “They found a body twenty miles away from here,” Ashley continues. “It looks like the job of the same scumbag who killed four women three hundred miles away from here.”

  I feel dizzy. “No. She’s just hiding somewhere.”

  “I’m sure, but I’m going to start searching for her as if it is him,” Ashley says.

  Her words drill into my brain and stab my heart. Strip me of oxygen. Fill me with primal fear.

  I feel so helpless I rise to my feet and slam my fist on the wall. My fingers start bleeding. I want to exit the office and kill every man that looks suspicious. I want Star to walk into this office and cling to me like nothing has happened. The uncertainty about her is killing me.

  “You think…” Tyler says.

  “I fucking don’t know what to think,” Ashley says.

  “She’s somewhere in the hotel,” Tyler says as his voice cracks.

  “I hope so,” Ashley says. “But I’m sending my two men to look for her anyway.” She huffs out. “You haven’t heard that from me. But if we find that scumbag I want you to get rid of him. Forever. Some place no one can find him. As always.”

  Tyler salutes her. “I’ll talk to my dad.”

  “You’d better,” Ashley says. She takes a badge out of the drawer and gives it to Tyler. “In case the Feds started sniffing around you—you are my second in command. I don’t want more shit in town, you know. Nominate two more officers. I’ll take care of everything else.” She puts her hands on the back of her neck. “And don’t spread panic in town. I need to think about it before it goes to the public.”

  Tyler attaches the badge to his cut and grips my arm. A fog fills my head and my feet feel spongy. My stomach constricts as nausea surges through me. Tyler drags me out of the office. I take a sharp breath. My mind detaches.

  “I’m gonna rip his throat out,” I say, “with my bare hands.”

  Chapter 8

  Rebel

  Three days later.

  She’s gone. Gone as though she has never existed. Gone as though the earth has swallowed her.

  I haven’t slept for thirty-six hours.

  I check out every inch around the hotel.

  My mind creates images. Dreadful images.

  That psycho chops off women’s fingers. Then he chops their toes off. He rapes them. Then he claws their eye out and kills them. Ashley was very straightforward about it.

  I’m gonna claw his eye out.

  I’m gonna chop his dick off.

  I’m gonna find my wife no matter what that takes.

  I’m searching the area with Tyler and one of Ashley’s men. We continue towards the desert.

  I’m good at finding things and people. I always found Star when she was in the woods around the Devil’s Tears’ compound. It’s like an instinct—I got it from my dad, Mike.

  When I was fifteen, I found one of the boys—Owl had gotten drunk and twisted his neck ten miles away from the compound. I found what was left after wild animals had found him first.

  I found Giant after he had found a poachers’ trap in the woods. He was alive until he died of a heart attack at the hospital. Then I helped Gabriel find the poachers and they got what they deserved.

  I found Gunner Junior’s brother, Shay—his ashes to be precise.

  I will find my wife.

  The sun rises to its peak as we meander among cacti and rock formations, the dry hot air almost burning my lungs. Sweat invades my eyes and causes them to sting.

  I’ve never been this scared in my life.

  A few gangsters have beaten me in my life. I’ve had a bullet in my arm twice. I’ve lost my parents. I’ve killed three times.

  But this…?

  This is hell. Every second is deadly. Every second kills Star.

  I’m asking myself what I have done wrong. I must have done something wrong.

  I failed my little bird. I’m no husband. I’m a failure.

  Tyler stands in front of me and lays his hands on my shoulders. “Stop that, man.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “We will find her and she’ll be alright.”

  “I should have—“

  “No. It could have been Daisy or Cindy or Athena. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “The uncertainty is worse than…”

  “I know.” Tyler pats my shoulder and squeezes it. He looks over his shoulder, as his eyes travel to the young cop in the distance then he glances back at me. “We are the Shadow Wolves, right? We’ll find her.”

  I claw at his words with my whole energy.

  The desert envelops me with its hot mystery, and I almost feel its primal forces personified. Guarding its secrets. Laughing at my human little struggles.

  Star

  He said he’d chop off one finger a day.

  I’ve lost two of them so far—my two little fingers. He used an axe. I writhed, but he pinned me down to the ground with his boot.

  I’ve never felt such a searing pain before.

  I passed out four times. I threw up. I wet myself.

  Today, he’s going to chop off my third finger.

  The cell smells of my urine and vomit. I retch. I sob for a moment.

  I don’t allow my brain to shut down.

  Athena said I was very intelligent. Athena is a queen, and she’s wise.

  I need to use my intelligence or that sick man will do worse things to me, much worse than chopping off my fingers.

  Athena said I was more intelligent than an average girl my age.

  I think my dumbness is my ally now. I don’t know what I should feel so I don’t feel at all. I’m thinking. Thinking all the time. I’m analysing, observing, drawing conclusions.

  The walls are cold and damp like I’m below the ground. There’s no window. The naked bulb above my head is on all the time. The wooden door separates me from my freedom as the ominous eye of a small camera is watching my every movement.

  I have two hairpins in my hair.

  There’s a half-empty bottle of spring water by the wall.

  There’s not much time left.

  Rebel must be very worried about me. I don’t want him to be worried.

  Rebel

  The uncertainty about Star eats at me, minute after minute. It poisons my mind, freezes my blood, and stabs my heart. It kills me in every minute that passes. Yet I’m still alive. Alive to
live in my hell.

  I will find her. I have no doubts about it. I will.

  But will I find her alive?

  If I do, is she gonna be just a walking and breathing corpse that’s too damaged to live outside the mental hospital? Maybe it’s better for her to die as soon as possible. Before that monster hurts her to the point where she’s not a human being anymore?

  The lack of control kills me the most.

  I want to break every bone in that sick fuck’s body and make him choke on his vomit.

  But I can’t find him.

  He’s a ghost. So is Star.

  I’m an animal focused on one goal.

  I will find her.

  If she’s dead, I’ll shoot myself dead and ask my dad to bury us in one coffin.

  If she’s alive but too damaged, I’ll shoot both of us dead. We’ll be together. I can’t live without her.

  My dad joins us. He hugs me and grips the back of my head.

  “We’re gonna find her,” he says. “And she’s gonna be fine. I promise you, son.”

  My dad can find everyone. He’s the best investigator in the world.

  His determination radiates to me and fills my chest with hope.

  ***

  We’re seated around the table in the office of the Jilly Jet, the maps spread on the scratched top.

  “He must have known the floor plan of the hotel,” my dad says.

  Ashley nods. “We checked all the cameras. Star bounced off a man after she’d walked out of the bathroom, but then they went in two opposite directions, We lost track of her near the kitchen. We checked that man out—he’s a businessman with no record. With a wife and two kids. Nothing suspicious here.”

  “What about the passage below the basement?” Zane asks.

  “Nobody knows about it,” Axel says. “Nobody except us.”

  “We’ll check all the staff employed at the hotel once again,” Ashley says.

  My dad points his finger to the area that stretches to the east from Chaviva. “I’ll check it once again.” He threads his fingers through his hair. “He must have been preparing everything for months.”

  “We had a cook six months ago,” Luka says. “A weird guy. He worked for three weeks and gave up the job.”

  “I’ll check him out,” Ashley says.

  My dad lays his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it. “Everything’s gonna be alright.”

  I claw at his words like my life depends on it. Actually my life depends on it.

  “Right, people, get back to our search,” Zane says. “We’re gonna meet up to discuss our findings in five hours.”

  “You,” my dad says, jutting his chin out, “get some sleep.”

  “I’m not tired,” I say.

  “President’s order,” he says as seriousness coats his voice.

  Anger wells up in my chest, but I kill it because I don’t want to disrespect my president in front of everyone.

  “Aye, Prez,” I say.

  I leave the office then exit the Jilly Jet and shuffle towards my bike. Stars twinkle above my head. I watch them and feel like the black expanse of the sky is sucking me in.

  “God, help me.” That sounds ridiculous, because I’m an atheist. “God, I promise to attend Sunday morning Mass once a month. No, twice a month. And I’ll read Bible to my kids. I give you my wolf’s word. You hear me? My wolf’s word.”

  God doesn’t answer me.

  “And I’ll marry Star in a Catholic church,” I continue. “So you’re happy with the things between Star and me. My wolf’s word.”

  God is mute.

  Star

  He must be watching me. There wouldn’t be a camera in here otherwise. He’s going to chop my third finger off soon so I need to find a way out of here.

  Sweat pricks my forehead. I have a high fever. The wounds from my chopped fingers are probably getting infected.

  I rise from the wooden floor. My mind spins out of control.

  A plan is born in my head.

  My heart thumps in my ears.

  I take a few deep breaths.

  I get rid of all my emotions. It’s easy for freaks like me.

  I step back, sway and throw myself at the wall with as much speed as I can manage. My head bangs against the hard surface and I see white and red flashes dance in front of my eyes.

  My body collapses to the ground. A metallic taste pricks my tongue and blood gathers in my mouth. I spit it out.

  Now, I’m going to play dead.

  A second is an eternity or hours are seconds. Everything is blurry. Dreamy.

  I hear a rasp. The door creaks open. Somebody’s heavy breath wakes primal fear inside me.

  I don’t move.

  Someone’s foot kicks me in the side of my chest. I hide deep inside me to escape from the pain. Another kick.

  A tall figure kneels beside me. It’s my captor.

  Everything inside me screams to open my eyes. I don’t open them even though his presence is like being with pure sick evil. Like touching hell.

  His breath brushes against my cheek as he checks my pulse on my neck.

  Now or never.

  I open my eyes.

  I sweep my hand.

  I jab his eye with a hairpin, rolling away from him.

  I rise to my feet and dizziness pins me down. I crawl as a furious growl chases me and a hand brushes against my foot.

  I scramble to my feet and tumble through the door.

  My eyes travel to a ladder.

  I sense the bad man right behind me. His fist slams into my back, knocking the air out of my lungs.

  I jerk my body forward and clutch the ladder.

  A hand grips my ankle. I kick and kick until I free myself. A furious growl travels through the air.

  I start climbing. There’s a trap door. I push it with my hands and it opens.

  I clamber out and find myself in the dark.

  Then I start running.

  I run faster and faster.

  My lungs hurt and feel like blood is gathering inside them.

  I wheeze.

  It’s as cold as a winter evening.

  Blackness obscures my vision. Then white streaks of light blind me.

  Muscular arms brace me, and my whole being stiffens. I fall down to the ground as a massive frame crushes mine.

  He’s got me. I’m going to die.

  Rebel will be so sad.

  Chapter 9

  Rebel

  Tyler tumbles into my room and hauls me out of the bed.

  “Mike’s found her,” he rumbles.

  “What?”

  “Mike found her half an hour ago. She’s alright.”

  My knees bend and Tyler grips my arm to steady me.

  Then everything is blurry until I walk into a hospital room and see her on a hospital bed. She’s asleep. There’s a heart monitor behind the headboard. To her right is a hanger with two bags of clear fluid—a lightweight tube is attached to the cannula in her arm.

  Tyler keeps talking to me. Nurses talk to me. Doctors talk to me. My dad talks to me. Ashley comes, accompanied by two Feds, but my dad deals with them. The others come.

  But, I can focus only on Star’s greyish bruised face.

  The bastard chopped off her two fingers, but the doctors say he didn’t rape her. She’s very dehydrated and needs antibiotics. Ten hours later, the doctors say the sick fuck didn’t infect her with any blood borne disease either.

  Star

  He wakes me with his hot kisses. I see tears in his eyes.

  “Star,” he rasps.

  “I didn’t let him hurt me, Rebel.” It comes out in a screech.

  He weeps for a moment as his hand covers his eyes and his head drops. His body shakes.

  “I’m fine,” I say.

  His glassy eyes fix on mine. “I can’t live without you.”

  There’s such raw emotion in his voice that pain squeezes my heart. I feel the urge to comfort him.

  “I know,” I say. “That
’s why I knew I had to escape. If I hadn’t, you’d have been very sad. Everything’s fine.”

  He is still sad. A flutter goes through my chest.

  “You don’t like my hands, Rebel?”

  “No, Star, I love your little hands, fingers or not.”

  I chuckle. “So why are you so sad?”

  “I’m just happy to have you back.”

  “So smile for me.”

  He smiles then kisses my lips. His tears moisten my cheeks.

  His chair scrapes against the floor as he moves it closer to the bed and lays his head next to mine. His hand travels to mine and he closes his fingers around my wrist.

  “We’ll have a wedding in Catholic church,” he says. “You’ll have this big white dress.” He kisses my temple. “Our kids will have Christening.”

  “Okay.”

  “And we’ll pray every night.”

  “I don’t know any prayers.”

  “I just learned ‘Our Father’. It’s easy. I’ll teach you.”

  “Okay.”

  Rebel

  Joy and pain mix in my chest as my urge to revenge her drifts from me and to me. Soon, I’ll have the sick fuck tied with a rope. I’ll make him suffer.

  “He sang to me,” Star says.

  “What?” I feel like a hammer has struck me on the head.

  Star takes a convulsive breath. “He sang—

  —Sally the stripper Sally the stripper

  She never came back

  I’ll chop off her fingers

  When I have her back

  I’ll chop off her toes

  When I have her back

  I’ll make her blind

  When I have her back—

  Or something like this, Rebel.” Her eyes wander off somewhere far from here.

  Dread surges through me.

  It can’t be. But it is. I killed one bitch called Sally the stripper. I killed her to save Daisy.

  “Star, baby…”

  “We will never talk about him again, Rebel. Ever.”

  “As you wish, my little bird.”

  “Can we kiss as previously?”

  I nod and kiss her forehead, her cheeks then her lips. My mouth moves down her neck. Then I kiss her hand wrapped in white bandage.

  “Some people have no legs so I can consider myself very lucky to have two legs.” She beams at me.

  Tears blind me. “You’re so fucking wise, Star.”