Page 67 of Inked Daddies

It’s a gamble. But it’s the only way to know Preacher is alive.

He’s silent for a beat. I sense him weighing the threat. Then I hear a muffled shuffle, a thud, and a distant grunt of pain. My heart seizes. That’s definitely Preacher—a raw, choked sound. Another shuffle, and Crow returns, voice dripping with false courtesy. “Satisfied?”

“You might live to regret this.”

Crow clicks his tongue. “Now, now. You want him back alive? You’ll bring me the girl.”

My blood chills. “Marie.”

“That’s right. The sweet librarian who got away last time, thanks to you and those assholes. I have a buyer who’s partial to innocence, and she’s the poster child for it, isn’t she?”

Hardly. But he doesn’t need to know that. Not when he has Preacher under his boot.

“Look, you want money? We can do money. We have more resources than you can imagine. Let Preacher go, name your price.”

Crow scoffs. “Money’s nice, but this is personal. My buyer’s squealing for her, and it’s my job to keep him happy. You got twenty minutes to get to his house. Show up without the girl, and you better start planning a funeral.”

Twenty minutes. Hardly enough time to plan. My heart pounds, my mind racing through possible contingencies. “You’re making a mistake. If you think you can kidnap her without consequences?—”

He snorts, scorn dripping from every syllable. “Oh, I’ve done my research. Might not have found everything, but I know enough. You and a couple of your buddies run a tattoo shop, and you’re all playing house with the preacher’s daughter. Cute arrangement. But you can’t stop me. Hell’s Hammers have been scouting Auclair for weeks, and we’re starting with her.”

I grit my teeth. “I get it. You’re trying to prove a point, that you can waltz into Auclair and do whatever you want. But if you’ve done your research, you should know how my crew reacts to threats.”

He gives a snide chuckle. “Yeah. You might be tough, but you’re also old and outnumbered, so it doesn’t matter. We have your preacher, and we want the girl. Twenty minutes, Sam. Bring her, or he’s dead.”

A wad of panic tries to climb up my throat. I swallow it down. Preacher would do anything for his daughter, and that includes letting Crow beat him to death. I wouldn’t give her over to them even if I wasn’t in love with her.

“Marie’s off-limits. Let Preacher go, and I can guarantee we leave you alone. Cross that line, and you’ll regret it.”

“That’s not how this works,” Crow sneers. “You bring me Marie, or say goodbye to your preacher. Simple as that.”

He’s enjoying this, the smug bastard. My mind reels with potential angles. The cops, who are barely equipped to handle a full-scale gang infiltration? Or do we do this the old-fashioned way? We have only twenty minutes.

The phone pings with a text alert. Crow’s voice purrs, “I just sent you a little proof of life—or near life. He doesn’t have much time.”

I yank the phone from my ear, checking the message. Preacher, slumped against a blood-smeared wall, arms bound. He’s battered, bruised, face streaked with red. The living room is wrecked, just as Crow said.

Inside, I feel it. That depersonalization I was trained for. The way you shut off your humanity when it will only get people killed. A comforting numbness takes hold.

But then I look at the picture again, and all of that dissolves into nothing. This is personal. My humanity demands action. No more numbness. I’m a live wire.

I press the phone back to my ear, breathing through gritted teeth. “You’re crossing lines you can’t come back from. Walk away.”

He sounds bored. “The clock is ticking. Remember who holds the cards.”

“You’re a businessman, right, Crow?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Yeah. What of it?”

“A good businessman does his research. He wants to know who he’s getting into bed with. Doesn’t want the deal to fall through?—”

“I didn’t call for a seminar?—”

“You should have done your research, Crow. You have no idea who you’re fucking with. Walk away now, and you’ll see the sun rise.”

He laughs. “You do not seem to understand. There is no path for you to keep them both. You must choose one or the other. That’s the only way this ends.”

Sweat beads on the back of my neck. “She’s not an asset you can play with, Crow. If you want an asset, let’s talk real business. A dead hostage is worthless, and my entire crew will come after you with no restraint, and not only you.”

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