by Kayn, Debra
Chapter Twenty Nine
In a black suit with his signature blue shirt opened to the middle of his chest, Banjoey took his cigar out of his mouth, looked Slade in the eye, and assessed him. Slade fought back the urge to hurry him along, but he'd learned long ago, nobody pushed Banjoey without Banjoey pushing back.
"You know, I respect Bantorus MC." Banjoey set his cigar in the overflowing ashtray on the desk. "I despise liars and thieves. I especially hate someone who can't keep their word and tries to play me for a fool."
Slade remained silent. After going to the underground club Ray frequented and not finding him or discovering his whereabouts, he'd headed to Jodie's house and found the door wide open, the place in shambles, and Jodie's clothes gone. Everything pointed at a job one of Banjoey's men might've done. So, he came to the source.
"Ray was the worst kind of fool." Banjoey leaned forward. "You know what I'm saying?"
"Yeah, I get you." Slade's patience left five minutes ago. "I need to find him. He's got my woman and when I find him, I'm going to kill him. I'll save us both the trouble of having a fool around."
Banjoey laughed, shaking his head. "Too late."
"What?" Slade's body became alert.
Banjoey picked up the end of his cigar, clamped the stub between his teeth, and curled his lips. "He was three hundred grand in debt. He had five days—longer than I normally give a client—and he ran out of time."
"Jesus Christ," Slade muttered, standing up to pace the room. "Then who the hell has my woman?"
"I can't tell you that, but Ray was alone," Banjoey said.
He'd wasted valuable time hunting down the wrong person when Ray was packed six feet under. He held out his hand. "I owe you."
"For what?" Banjoey stood, walking Slade to the door of the office. "It was Ray's debt."
"Right." Slade turned and faced the man who used money to play with people's lives in a cat and mouse game. "Do you have any information on my ex-wife? I swung by her house before stopping here, looking for Ray. The apartment is a mess and Jodie's gone. No matter what I think of the woman, she's the mother to my kids and I don't want something happening to her. I'll let you know right now, you harm Jodie and that will come between us."
Banjoey clapped his hand on Slade's shoulder. "Rest easy, my friend. I have Jodie upstairs. After talking with her the last couple of weeks while I dealt with Ray, I've grown fond of her."
Jesus Christ. Trouble with his ex-wife continued to grow. He'd never allow his boys contact with their mother if she hung around Banjoey. He couldn't believe his ex-wife would willingly go with a loan shark.
She jumped from one asshole to a killer.
"No offense, but tell Jodie she blew any chance of seeing her kids," Slade said. "I'll be taking her back to court, and my lawyer will know she's staying with you."
"I don't run an establishment for minors. Jodie understood the rules when I…urged her to move in with me. If it makes you feel better, and to keep peace with Bantorus, I'll have my lawyer draw up the paperwork relinquishing the boys to you, and have Jodie give up all rights before the end of the week." Banjoey shrugged. "Then I'll keep her happy and out of your business."
Slade had no time to straighten out his past life when his future was blowing up in his face. "Thanks."
"No, thank you." Banjoey opened the door. "I hear anything about your woman, I'll get in touch."
He nodded and left the office. Five minutes later, he pulled into Cactus Cove at a loss on where to look. If Ray wasn't the person who took Taylor, the only other possibility could be Los Li, which meant he was going after the Mexican Mafia.
He pushed through the front door. Rain motioned him over to the bar. He sat down on an empty stool. "Dead end. Ray went to ground today. He's not the one who has Taylor."
"Just got the phone call myself informing me about Ray's untimely death." Rain reached under the bar and then straightened, slapping down a pre-pay cell. "Duck called from the hospital. Torque's going to make it. Bullets missed everything important and landed in muscle. He spoke for a few minutes and mentioned a black car with an upside down Beemer hood ornament."
"Fuck." Slade slammed his fist on the bar. "Then I'm going after Los Li."
"There's more." Rain leaned over, pushing the cell closer to Slade. "I put a call into the GJ's, and there's a rumor going around that one of the Los Li members went AWOL two weeks ago. Los Li's letting him run around like a madman, because they're settling their deal up north and don't have time to fuck around with a rogue member."
"And?" Slade stood, unable to sit. Every precious minute wasted was another minute Taylor was scared out of her mind.
"The runner's name is Toma'. Has a LL tattoo at the base of his neck. He seems to have a preference for hurting girls after becoming obsessed with them." Rain caught Slade's arm before he could punch the bar. "He's the same man who I caught beating his stick outside the cabin Taylor stayed in."
He heaved the nearest chair across the bar. His muscles tightened and his soul screamed. "I want him. Now. He won't take Taylor from me."
"Already on it." Rain tossed him the cell. "Read the text. I have Ronny and Jedman outside putting gas in your Harley. The four of us ride, and bring back your girl."
He looked at the cell, read the screen, and hope overpowered the rage. The message had an address, not ten miles outside Pitnam. He tossed the cell to the counter of the bar and hit the door running.
Ronny and Jedman fired up their motorcycles and met his gaze. They had his back. Rain followed alongside Slade and not for the first time, he was glad to have his president beside him. He'd have the whole Goddamn United States beside him if it meant finding Taylor alive. Once he got her back, he was never letting her out of his sight again.
Chapter Thirty
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Taylor groaned, rolling onto her side. The mattress scratched her hip and she moved her hand down her body, waking up to find herself naked, sore all over, and cold. She reached out for the edge of the bed and pulled herself into a sitting position. She let her chin fall to her chest. Only then did she open her eyes and gaze down at her body.
She exhaled in relief. Her panties and bra were still on. She wasn't completely naked.
Not that the little bit of underclothes meant the man hadn't touched her or she was safe. She couldn't remember Toma' bringing her back into the house or what happened afterward. She had no idea how much time had passed, only that she hurt. Hurt worse than she'd ever felt. Her head killed her, and her arms were dead weight in her lap.
The dripping in the house continued. She lifted her gaze and found a door open to a bathroom. Then it hit her how uncomfortable she was and why she woke up. She had to pee.
On shaky legs, she shuffled across the room. She became more aware of her surroundings with each step. For right now, Toma' was gone. Her clothes were also gone, which meant Toma' probably found her phone and it too was gone.
Oh, God, Slade. I'm so sorry. She caught a sob, clenching her teeth around the sound. Even that small of movement initiated new pain in her head.
She used the toilet, not flushing, because she wanted more time alone to figure out what was going on and how she could escape, without alerting Toma' to her waking up. The source of the dripping came from a pipe shoved through the wall of the black molded shower. She sat staring at the water drops hitting the same spot on the grimy porcelain. One, two, three, and the droplets converged to roll three inches into the drain.
At one time, the bathroom's pink walls hinted at a woman using the room. She'd painted Slade's bathroom pink and she might never get to hold on to her promise to repaint the room. She swallowed the emotions clogging her throat.
She needed Slade. He'd know what to do to get out of here.
She wanted his broad, rough hand to stroke her back and to smell the mountain breeze on his greasy T-shirt after he came home from work, making her feel safe and loved. She blinked extra-long to sooth the burning in her eyes. Sh
e needed to hear his deep timbre whisper when he called her his baby girl.
She wanted to call and tell him she'd never give up, and that she'd keep fighting to escape. But, her phone was gone. She'd never give up trying to get back to him. Ever.
There were things she needed to do to make everything okay and ease her mind. Slade needed to know she'd gone behind his back and paid off Ray. Her parents needed to know she loved Slade with her whole heart and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him and the boys. She'd promised the kids another game of basketball in the driveway. She wanted to keep living life with Slade. Her home was with him, back in Pitnam with Bantorus MC, with the boys.
The door in the bedroom opened. She stood, pulled her panties to her hips, and hurried to close the bathroom door, but there was no door to shut.
Toma' ogled her from head to toe, and slowing worked his way back up her body to her breasts. Defiantly, she walked past him and stood in front of the boarded window. "I want my clothes."
Toma' sat down on the bed. "You'll have to earn them back."
"I'm worth money. I have family that will pay a lot to have me back." She folded her arms, half to hide herself from his gaze and the other part to stop the shivering. "Call them."
Toma' rubbed his hands along his jean-covered thighs. "Bantorus MC ain't gonna give squat for you. You're one of their bitches."
She hid her shock. In her world, nobody called her by that name. Even before she became Slade's old lady, she was never a bitch. If Slade heard him use that name toward her, he'd beat the shit out of him.
"Trust me. They will pay you," she said. "I belong to one of the riders."
Toma's hand came out and before she could move, she was on the floor. Her cheek throbbed, and blood from her face dripped to the floor. She stayed on hands and knees, watching the blood. One. Two. Three, and the droplets rolled three inches into the crack on the wooden floor.
Her blood pulsed with the drips coming from her, coming from the bathroom, coming from her heart that was tearing apart at the loss of ever seeing Slade again, the boys, and her family. She pushed herself to her feet and without any warning; she raised her arm and backhanded Toma'. Before he reacted, she brought her knee up to his crotch. He shifted, and her aim missed.
Toma' grabbed her hair and brought his head back, then threw himself at her head. Pain exploded in her forehead, and she fell to her knees. Blood ran in her vision, in her nose, in her mouth. She struggled through the pain, because she would not let this bastard take her away from everything she loved. She wouldn't slip away from Slade's life and become a memory.
Her man was out there probably worried and burning a warpath, and she had two boys that needed her more than they needed a normal family. She spit out the warm, tainted liquid out of her mouth. Slade gave them all a life to be proud of, and she would not go down wearing only panties and a bra, bleeding to death, in a God damn abandoned house with the fucking water dripping and driving her crazy.
She dove for his knees, taking him by surprise and knocking him to the floor. In a fury she never thought possible she fought for her life and the life she wanted with Slade.
***
The address Slade received led him to an abandoned two-story farmhouse with half the siding falling off. He parked his motorcycle at the end of the dirt road by a stand of Cottonwood trees and slashed his hand across his throat for the others to cut their engines. In the silence, he strained to hear anything that would give him a hint that Los Li hadn't jacked him around and Taylor was hidden somewhere else.
A wooden shed, leaning to the west, braced against an old fir tree, fifty feet from the house kept drawing his attention. It was big enough to hold a car or motorcycle. He walked forward, staring at the dirt road sprinkled with overgrown grass. They hadn't had rain in a few weeks, and the grass was leaning. Whether from lack of water or traffic, he hadn't a fucking clue.
He turned back around and joined Ronny, Jedman, and Rain. "I want to check out the shed first, and then I'm going inside the house."
"We'll come with you." Jedman removed his pistol and flipped off the safety.
"I don't want him to know I'm coming. It's too dangerous with all of us moving on foot. We don't know what kind of condition Taylor is in or the danger it'll put on her." He pointed in the distance. "I want each of you to take a side of the house. I'll go through the front door. If he steps outside, blow his fucking head off."
"Your woman, your call." Rain stepped forward.
Slade looked at each of them. "This goes down, it's on my back. You promise to raise my kids and see after Taylor."
"Blood, brother." Rain clasped his wrist. "Let's roll."
Slade stayed low, working his way over to the shed, using the tall grass for cover. He dashed the last twenty feet and hunkered down at the back corner. Leaning to the left to check out the backside of the shed, he spotted a broken out window. He settled back on the heels of his boots in relief. Away from sight of the house, the window would provide the easiest way to check inside the building.
He crept closer and straightened. Peering inside, he clamped his teeth to keep from yelling his outrage. A black car with an upside down Beemer hood ornament sat inside. The bastard was here. He tapped down the urgency to storm the house and find Taylor.
Adrenaline pulsed through him, and left his hand shaking. He removed his gun out of his right hand and stretched his fingers. The natural urge to curl his index finger, feel the kickback of the gun, and watch the bullet pierce the rogue Los Li member satisfied him. He was ready to get his woman back.
He gripped the pistol, moved to the corner of the shed, nodded once, and motioned the others to take their places. Then he studied the house. Every window remained empty, no movement in sight. Hold on, baby girl. Hold on for me.
He straightened and ran a straight path to the porch. Going on pure instinct, he kept going until he hit the wooden steps by the front door. The weatherworn wood creaked and he plastered his body against the wall, knowing the rotted siding was no protection if a bullet came toward him. With his back to the house, he put his hand on the door and tested the handle. It was unlocked.
To calm himself, he thought of Kurt—tougher and stronger than a thirteen-year-old boy should be, and Lee—living in denial, hanging on to the positive and wanting desperately to remain a carefree kid. He moistened his lips, and wanted the taste of Taylor back on his mouth. He wanted to surround her with a family and wake up every morning to the squeak of a broken bed as he buried himself deep in her body.
Taylor made his life normal when they were all together, and he'd never fight the madness again if he could get her back. He'd accept his crazy fucked up world for what it was, full. More than anything, he needed a lifetime to prove nobody could love Taylor more than he could.
Calm swept through him. He turned the handle and stepped inside, pistol raised. His gaze swept the room.
Empty.
He advanced through the entryway into the living room, taking precise steps to avoid the debris scattered around. He pointed his weapon at every corner, every piece of furniture, and every shadow. I'm here, baby girl.
He walked through the archway into the kitchen. His heart pounded. Fear of a set up and finding out he'd come to the wrong location to find Taylor rattled his thoughts. Too much time had passed since she went missing. He couldn't afford not to find her.
Out the back window, Rain showed himself and shook his head. Slade continued moving, one room at a time. He couldn't explain it, but he sensed Taylor was in the house. She was here. He only had to find her.
A squeak came from the room up ahead and to the left. He froze. Anxious, he crept forward to the opened door, swung around to a crouched position in the doorframe, and looked for Taylor.
The room was empty. He clamped his teeth together and straightened.
As he moved, a gray mouse scuttled across the floor. He ignored the rodent and headed toward the stairs. On the third step, he stopped, hearing a soft bru
shing sound. He couldn't tell if he imagined the noise or if the floor had creaked underneath his boots. He took another step, straining to hear.
A louder scraping sound came from above him. He took the steps three at a time and scanned the upper landing. Three doors were open, one closed. He never second guessed himself, but stormed to the closed on, kicking it in. The door busted and fell to the side.
He took in Taylor first, lying crumbled on the floor in her underwear and unresponsive to the noise. Blood coated most of her bare skin. Feral anger and his heart exploding had him looking for the one responsible for her condition. A man sat on a wooden chair, legs outstretched, jeans to his knees, hand on dick, staring at him as if he wasn't sure what he was seeing.
Slade wanted to make sure he wiped the sight of his woman from the man's mind and without any hesitation, pulled the trigger at the sick bastard's brain. Slade held the pistol in the same position, lowered his arm and put a second shot in the man's dead heart.
His deadly shots echoed in the room. Slade's knees hit the floor beside Taylor at the same time the Bantorus riders entered the room. Slade took off his shirt, covering up Taylor's upper body and laid down beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist.
"Ambulance is coming." Rain placed his hand on Slade's shoulder.
Jedman pried the pistol from Slade's hand. "Got your back, brother."
He put his lips on Taylor's hair. "Hold on, baby girl. Helps coming, and they'll make you better. I'm here now, and I'll make them fix you."
Taylor's cold body remained lifeless, and he held her closer. "The boys are waiting for you to come home to them—he clamped his teeth together to keep from yelling at the onslaught of fear coursing through his veins—don't you dare leave me, baby girl. Don't you fucking leave me."
Rain squatted on the other side of Taylor and put his fingers to her neck. Slade grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "Don't touch her."
The intensity of Rain's gaze confirmed Slade's worries. His woman had gone through hell. He would not allow anyone to touch her, because he couldn't face the truth of her condition. She was a broken doll, discarded and abused, and he wanted to make her whole.
