Page 36 of Ringo's Silence

“There’s no way he’d have left his post. Boogie wouldn’t do that.” Blade says with concern and we all shake our heads in agreement.

“I need everyone strapped and riding within ten minutes!” Prez yells and all the guys start moving quickly.

Running to my own room, I find my guns in the bedside table. Pulling my chest holster on, I put my guns in their spots, grabbing my jacket on the way out.

Hopefully, Remmy is just hiding from his mom for whatever she pissed him off about. But if someone has taken him, if someone has hurt even one small hair on his head, I’ll get them and leave them for the bears to eat on top of the mountain.

Chapter 10

Ringo

The night air was thick with tension as we pull up to the cabin. The headlights of our bikes cutting through the darkness. All of my club brothers are right behind me.

Our engines rumbling with a loud growl like a warning to anyone who might be lurking in the shadows. My heart was pounding in my chest, not just from the ride, but from the fear gnawing at the back of my mind of where Remmy could be.

I park my bike and quickly dismount, the others following suit.

“Spread out,” Prez orders, his voice sharp with command. “Look for anything out of place.”

No one needed to be told twice. Fanning out into the trees, their flashlights sweep over the ground around them. I make a beeline for the cabin, hoping against hope that Remmy might have just wandered off somewhere nearby and couldn’t find his way back in the dark.

Kimmie is on the porch, having come outside when she heard the roar of all the bikes. Her face is pale and her eyes wide with fear. “Ringo.” she whispers, rushing to me. “Did you find him? Is he okay?”

I pull her close, holding her steady as I feel her whole body trembling. “We’re going to find him. I promise.”

Just as I said it, one of the guys calls out from the edge of the property. “Ringo! Over here!”

I turn away from Kimmie, running toward the voice. Kimmie is right behind me, her breath hitching in her throat.

When we reach the spot, I see Torque kneeling over something. Moving closer, I realize it is the Prospect, half-hidden under a bush, unconscious and beaten to hell.

“Damn it.” I mutter, crouching down beside him. “Is he alive?”

“Yeah, he’s breathing.” Torque says, checking the Prospect’s pulse. “But he’s out cold. Looks like someone worked him over pretty good.”

I clench my fists, anger boiling in my veins. Whoever did this was going to pay. But first, we had to find Remmy.

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