by Debra Kayn
“Rain.” Corbin inhaled through his nose. “Put aside your feelings for the guy right now. He’s stayed clean for the last month, and with your eyes and ours on him, he hasn’t crossed any lines. We couldn’t tie him to the fire, the note, or the drive-by.”
“Bullshit. We both know he’s here because he has a reason. Tori’s caught his eye. I caught them talking earlier this evening. He played himself off as one of her customers who went by the name Raul. Never gave her his last name, and she wasn’t able to connect him to the same man I’ve been telling her to stay away from for weeks,” he said.
“Did you have an argument with him? Corbin asked.
“Hell, yeah. He was with my woman.”
Corbin stepped forward and lowered his voice. “Did you argue with Ms. Baldwin?”
“Yeah.” He looked Corbin in the eye. “We had words, but settled things between us. I sent her home with two of my riders behind her. She called when she was safe in the house.”
“Could she have left because of the argument?” Corbin held his hand up when Rain tensed. “I need to know the whole story, son.”
Tori always ran when she was upset. She’d made him promise never to let her go, and he’d given his world. He wanted to believe everything was fine between them, but he couldn’t say if something had happened here at the house that made her second guess her decision and take off running.
He shook his head. No way. Tori wouldn’t run. Not from him. “Someone took her, and when I find him, he’s going to pay.”
“After we’re done inspecting the house, I’ll take a ride over to the hotel and have a talk with Sanchez myself.” Corbin studied Rain. “I want you to let me do my job, and to watch what you say in front of me.”
“I’m riding out the second you don’t need me here anymore.” Rain lowered his chin. “You do what you gotta do, and I’ll do it my way.”
“Rain. Let — ”
“She’s my woman.” He turned when Jedman entered the room.
Jedman handed him the phone. “Torque’s on the line, boss.”
“Where the hell are you?” Rain walked out of the room with the cell.
“Took Crystal to the bus station over in Kelso. She gave me a sob story about how she had to leave town before something bad happened to her. For a change, I believed her. I gave her money, saw her walk on the bus, and stayed until I had proof she was in the bus when it rolled away before I left. Must not have had cell coverage there, because I just rode past the railroad tracks and my phone went shit crazy. Didn’t even take time to get the messages, and I pulled over to call Slade,” Torque said.
“Tori was taken from the house earlier.” Rain sat down the porch steps. “Jedman and I are waiting to find out where Sanchez is, and then we’re riding out. I wanted to question Crystal. She flat-out lied to me tonight, plus her showing up at all when I’ve sent her out of Bantorus territory — it doesn’t add up. I think she knows who took Tori, and I can bet my life it’s Sanchez.”
“Shit.” Torque’s voice grew low. Rain couldn’t hear what else he said.
“Come again?”
“Hang on.” He paused. “Had to get a piece of paper out of my pocket. Crystal gave me a message for you. A name. I didn’t know what she meant by it, but I wrote it down while I was waiting for the bus to pull away.”
“What?”
“She said to tell you ‘It’s Ethan’.”
“What the hell is that? Who’s Ethan?” He grimaced, rubbing his forehead.
“Never heard the name before, and that’s all she’d say. I have to say, boss, Crystal’s usually cockier than shit, but the girl was scared. She kept looking over her shoulder and couldn’t wait to hightail it out of town.”
“Come back and hook up with the first riders. I’m hanging up.” He disconnected the call, and the phone rang again in his hand. “Yeah?”
“Slade?” Pete asked.
“No, it’s Rain.”
“Good. We located Sanchez. He’s sitting pretty in his hotel room. I had one of the gals from room service knock on his door to check the room out. No sign of Tori. We’re hanging back off the block to keep him stupid.”
“I’m fifteen minutes out. Do not let him leave.” He tossed the phone to Slade, hurried into the living room, and spoke low to Corbin. “I’m riding out.”
“Don’t tell me that shit.” Corbin looked away. “I’m just doing my job and dispatching more men on patrol. I do not want to know where you are or what you’re doing. I did not see you.”
Rain slapped Corbin on the shoulder, turned, and connected his gaze with Jedman’s. “Let’s roll.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Inside a cheap, rundown motel room, Tori stood chained to a Formica table. The weight of the chain locked onto the handcuffs and wrapped around the leg of the table pulled her shoulders down at an uncomfortable angle. She squatted, taking the pressure off her back, not understanding why Ethan held so much animosity toward her.
She’d suffered, too. He wasn’t there the night her dad took everything away from her, when she’d suffered the gunshot wound that still caused her leg to ache on occasion.
Until she’d met Rain, her life was all about where she’d run to next to escape what she’d lived through. Rain not only stood beside her, he’d supported her emotionally as she fought the doubts that crept up daily. He’d pushed away the fear that her dad was right, and love would ruin everyone she got close to. She clamped her teeth together to keep from crying. Rain held her every night, keeping her safe. She wanted his arms around her now, taking her weight, taking the pain from her body, and taking her home.
“Stand up.” Ethan pointed the pistol at her from his position on the faded, plaid couch.
She groaned as her muscles protested the effort it took to straighten her limbs into a new position. She bit her lip, raw from the backhanded slaps Ethan had given her to keep her from fighting. The tears she’d shed were now sticky on her face. Her hair half covered her vision.
Afraid to take her eye off Ethan, in case he came back over and gave her another beating, she kept careful watch. Her body rebelled, and it was a constant fight to stay awake and alert.
Ethan put the pistol beside him and removed a pipe out of his pocket. He hunched over, half blocking her view. Every few minutes, he lit a lighter and inhaled whatever he was smoking. She hoped he passed out, or forgot about her.
With him unconscious, she could try to lie on the floor and use her legs to lift the table. She’d already tried lifting with her hands, but the motel must’ve bolted the furniture down, afraid someone would walk off with the ugly piece of crap.
“You look like her,” said Ethan.
He’d talked to her for the last hour, off and on, but she never replied. She wrapped her fingers around the chain, holding the weight off her wrists. Rain must be home by now, and wondering where she went. He’d come looking for her, she was sure of it.
She’d bide her time and do whatever possible not to antagonize Ethan. And she’d keep breathing. Hurry, honey …
• • •
Rain kicked in the door of Room 212, his pistol leveled at Sanchez asleep on the bed. With his free hand, he hit the light switch, temporary blinding the other man.
Sanchez squinted, holding his hand in front of his face. “What the fu — ”
“Where is she?” He stepped forward.
Sanchez threw off the covers. “Who?”
“Don’t move.” He motioned with the pistol. “Tori. Where is she, and who’s with her?”
“I assume you’ve lost her.” Sanchez shook his head. “You’ve underestimated her, amigo. You can’t make a woman cry and expect she’ll be fine.”
“I don’t need your bullshit. Tori’s gone, it looks like someone tore my house apart, and if I find out anyone has
hurt a single hair on her head, I’ll kill him and you. The police are involved, and you had better hope they find her first, because I’m not going to be asking questions when I find her. My men are ten minutes ahead of them. I have no problem taking each of your men down one by one to find Tori.” He moved to the bed and placed the barrel of the gun at Sanchez’s temple. “Now, answer my question. Where is she?”
Sanchez looked him in the eyes, cocky and without blinking. “I have no idea.”
“Did you order someone to take her?”
“No.” Sanchez’s answer came fast and sure.
“If you’re shitting me, I — ”
“Get your phone out. I’m going to give you a number, and I want you to listen carefully.” Sanchez’s gaze never wavered. When Rain hesitated, he continued. “You’ll get all your answers with one phone call. Then I’ll talk.”
He walked backward, aware of every move Sanchez made. Without taking his gaze off the bed, he felt around in his back pocket and removed his phone.
Time was of the essence, and if Sanchez was jerking him around, he’d pay. He had no idea how long ago someone had ripped Tori from their home. A second was too long. Standing here arguing with Sanchez wasn’t helping Tori. They were running out of time.
“Call 503-555-1212. Give them the number 742981.” Sanchez brought his foot up and rested his ankle on his knee, unaffected by the fact he sat in his boxers with a gun trained on him.
He dialed the number, glancing from keypad to bed, but Sanchez never moved. “742 … ”
“981,” said Sanchez.
He repeated the numbers. A computerized voice came over the line. He stared at Sanchez in disbelief. The recording told him something he never in his life would’ve expected. Raul Sanchez was a federal agent.
He lowered the gun. “Talk.”
“I was initiated into the Lagsturns four years ago and worked my way into the lead position, going undercover to take down who was behind the drug runs. I don’t want the riders, but the boss behind hiring the riders.” Sanchez stood up, walked across the room, and slipped his legs in his jeans. “I’m damn close, and you stand between me keeping my job or getting killed for being a narc. To tell you the truth, I’m not ready to die.”
“What do you know about Tori?” He slid the pistol into the holster at his side.
“Until you kicked in my door … nothing.” Sanchez pulled his T-shirt over his head. “I don’t know who is behind the trouble you’ve received. It’s no one in the Lagsturns.”
“You’re not saying that to save your job?”
“No.” He took a pistol out from the nightstand and slipped it in the back of his pants. “I care about Tori. Tell me what you know.”
The new information about Sanchez was hard to process on top of his worry for Tori. The only thing he could do is trust him.
“I came home to an open door, the alarm shut off, and a mess in my living room with signs of a struggle,” he said. “My first guess of who was behind it was you and Crystal.”
“Crystal?” Sanchez shook his head. “I haven’t been with her for over six months.”
“Doesn’t matter now. One of my men sent her out of town with a one-way ticket. She gave him a message for me,” Rain moved toward the door.
“Which was?”
He turned. “‘It’s Ethan’.”
Sanchez frowned, and a flash of anger narrowed his eyes. “She was running from him?”
“I don’t know. She was scared, but the message was to me. All she said is ‘It’s Ethan’. I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about, and I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“I do.” Sanchez tied his boots.
“Who?”
“A lowlife crack head that rides with the Lagsturns, but stays by himself.” He stood and grabbed his jacket. “He’s the reason I’ve stayed in Pitnam. He’s a loose cannon. I thought staying in one place longer would force him to slip up. Some of the other riders are questioning his devotion to the club but so far, he’s the only definite contact I have to who is operating the drug runs. I need that bastard around to get the job done. Without him, I’ll never take them down or get out of working under cover.”
Rain’s body radiated with energy. “Where can I find him?” He was close to finding Tori. He could feel it.
“I’ll take you.” Sanchez lifted his chin. “I only ask that we talk afterward, so I can prepare myself for what you’re going to do with the truth you’ve learned here, amigo.”
“Help me get Tori, and I’ll let you live. I don’t care if you’re a Fed, I want my woman.”
Sanchez slapped him on the shoulder. “Get a hold of yourself. Think with a clear head, forget about Tori being your woman, and stay focused.”
He blew out a breath before he said, “Right.”
“Tap it down.”
“Yeah.”
He tried to take Sanchez’s advice and bury his fear. He’d have to remain in control to get Tori back safe and right now, she needed him. “Let’s go.”
Since he owned the hotel, Rain took Sanchez down the employees’ elevator and to the back door. He called Torque, who hotwired Sanchez’s ride and brought it to the delivery door where Rain opened the overhead door and let him drive inside.
“Go out Beech Street and turn on Elm. My riders will cover you, and I’ll meet you on Elm and Seventh. You take the lead from there.” He walked backward as he continued. “How far away are we from Tori?”
“Ten minutes, tops.” Sanchez threw his leg over the seat of his motorcycle. “Five if that hog of yours runs better than it looks.”
Rain turned around and spoke over his shoulder. “I’d bet my bike on it.”
All through town, he spotted only one cruiser. He stopped long enough to get an update with Stellor, and ditched the officer after two blocks. On Seventh Street, he pulled in behind Sanchez. He held out his arm, low to the ground, two fingers to the wind, and hit the throttle.
If he didn’t know better, he’d believe Sanchez was leading him on a wild goose chase. But Sanchez’s job was on the line. It was almost impossible to infiltrate a biker club, with all the background checks, twenty-four/seven companionship, and a unique talent of sniffing out the police. Sanchez’s life was in his hands.
If Lagsturns found out Sanchez was a Fed, they’d take him to ground.
Two miles later, Sanchez pulled to the curb and hopped off his bike. Rain joined him, shutting off his engine. A vacant lot sat to his right, a mini mart to his left. Unsurprisingly, no one was around. He figured it was around three in the morning.
His gut ached. Tori should be home sleeping, curled up against him, his hand on her breast. Hang in there, babe.
He stepped onto the sidewalk. “Where?”
“One block over. The California Inn, room C — ”
“Yeah, been there,” he said.
Sanchez raised his brow. “Don’t piss me off and tell me you’ve dealt with him before.”
“No. Crystal. He answered the door. I remember her calling him by name now. Stringy-looking guy.”
“Yeah, that’s him. I don’t know how she ended up shacked up with him after I kicked her ass to the curb. I expected her to disappear and go far away.” Sanchez walked, pointing in front of him. “We’ll have to go in on foot, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s wired. I’m not talking bugs, either.”
“Shit.” He wanted to run and bust inside. Being hyped up on dummy dust would make the asshole unpredictable. “Weapons?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get the son of a bitch.” He unzipped his jacket, making it easier to retrieve his pistol.
“I’ll have your back, amigo.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Ethan continued his incessant muttering as he paced from the only w
indow in the motel room, to the couch, to Tori. She closed her eyes, trying to understand what the ramblings meant. He jumped from thought to declaration quicker than she could process.
Numbness in her limbs at least made standing bearable. She no longer struggled with the pain, but if she opened her eyes, she’d see the blood smeared around her wrists and down her fingers from where she’d continually struggled against the handcuffs. She’d hoped the blood would allow her to squeeze her hands free, but her hands had gone numb before she succeeded.
“You don’t know the truth.” Ethan talked in a high-pitched voice, screwing up his face. “From that first time, I knew that asshole was capable of killing my mother. He poisoned her mind against me.”
That wasn’t true. Her father’s agenda was protecting her mom and Tori against harming others. They had to practice keeping themselves from sharing too much, becoming too close to the people in their lives, and depending on them. She shifted her weight, and pain shot up her calves.
Demented, probably mentally imbalanced, her father thought he was protecting them. It was never about keeping Ethan out of their lives. Dad had needed medical help, and maybe her mom had remained hopeful he’d snap out of it — she could only guess — but her father’s mental state only grew worse, not better.
Cold pain pierced her jaw. She opened her eyes, frantic and scared Ethan would catch her off guard again.
Get out of your head, babe. Rain’s voice, so clear and strong, whispered in her ear.
Rain? Rain! I need you.
“You need to die. Payback for what your father did to my mother.” Ethan pulled at her hair, jabbing the gun into the underside of her chin. “I’ll make everything right again. You’re just like him.”
Classy. Sexy. The laughter in Rain’s voice seemed real. You’re whacked, babe. Perfect for me. Don’t ever change.
“I’m not,” she whispered.
“What did you say, bitch?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me. Dad was sick.” She used every ounce of strength she had left to look him in the eyes. “He was sick. There was nothing wrong with me or Mom, except that we loved him and hoped we’d wake up one morning to have the man we loved back with us.”
