Page 52 of At Last

Blaze walks from the back hallway. “She grabbed Jesse, and they took off. Don’t know where.”

Immediately I press his contact and wait… and wait…

Fuck. The punk don’t answer.

I hang up and call again.

Still nothing. That little fucker not answeringmycalls? His president. Oh hell no. Demote his ass back to puke duty.

“I’ll be in my office.” I grumble to the brothers and stomp off. At least she was smart enough to take her guard.

Behind my desk, I get caught up in paperwork. A shit-ton of it. Though I keep calling my woman, and she keeps ignoring my calls. So I decide fuck it, she has to come back eventually. Then bury myself in work.

Finally,finally, my phone lights up. I grab it and answer, not bothering to look at who’s calling. Four hours since she took off. Four fucking hours. “Talk,” I order.

“Duke, man.” Sneak. “I’m about three miles from the compound.”

The severity in his tone makes my body seize up tight. “And?” I prod.

“Something didn’t look right. Skids, broken branches. Got out to check, Duke, I think… is Jesse there?”

Suddenly I can’t breathe. But I gotta breathe. Hand to the back of my neck, I force in the calming breaths that won’t come on their own. Then I stand and walk back out to the common. “Jesse back yet?” I bellow to any brother who’s in earshot.

“He’s been gone for hours, prez.” That was Blaze again.

“Call him.”

Blaze quickly pulls his phone and calls. “Not answering,” he says.

“He ain’t answering.” Don’t mean to, but my answer comes out a bark at Sneak. “What you got?”

“Jesus,” Sneak mutters. “Prez, it’s got to be his truck at the bottom.”

“Blaze, call 9-1-1,” I order. Running. “Three miles out. Need ambulance. Jesse went off the cliff.” Then turn to Sneak. “On my way.”

On my bike, I speed up the road. It don’t take long for me to ease up on Sneak and Trish pulled off to the shoulder. Sure enough, that’s the ass-end of Jesse’s truck sticking up about halfway down the gully. I try Doc’s cell again. Voicemail.

I’m about ready to lose it when the shrill of the ambulance sirens and flashing lights cut through the dim lighting caused by the canopy of tree coverage. Along with the ambulances, two police cruisers speed ahead. Behind the racing ambulances, one of Ellis Auto’s big towers.

After another forty-five minutes, we get the truck back onto the road. Too steep to send rescuers down, our only option was to harness up one of the officers experienced in repelling to repel down and hook the winch to the rear axle. Once we hauled the truck up, we could get to the occupants.

Oh fuck.Oh fuck. We all hear it, the desperate low, painful whimpering of a child. They wrench her door open. The paramedic extracts my Peaches. She looks okay, but’ll have to be checked out.

Not thinking, I run over to her. She sees me and her eyes go big. “Duke,” she cries. “Duke. Duke. My mama. Duke… my mama.” Fat tears spill down her cheeks, and it takes everything in me to keep standing. I reach her, my Peaches. One medic begins checking her. The other goes after Doc.

They lay her, my woman, on a gurney. She’s gray. That peaches and cream skin drained of color. They check for signs of life.Signs of life?“We’ve got a pulse, but it’s weak.” The medic calls and both load her into the back of the ambulance.

The other medics for the second ambulance have to wait as Sgt. Tommy Doyle and one of his officers cuts the driver’s door with a power saw. They pull Jesse out with much less haste. Not a good sign. I hold Peaches’ hand and force myself to look.

No.

God no.

This can’t be happening.

Half of Jesse’s face is hanging off. And Peaches had to see that for how fucking long? They lay him flat on the road and one of the medics drapes a wool blanket over top of the kid, covering his head.

The ambulance with Doc speeds off. Once they give Jade the all clear, I take her into my arms and hold on tight. She hasn’t stopped crying. I ain’t cried since Dawna left this earth, but dammit, if those tears don’t streak my face.

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