Page 66 of At Last

That don’t mean I’ll stand by and wait for it to happen. Part of her keeping sane comes with decompressing, spending the day doing normal shit.

And yeah, I was smart enough to lock the door when I got home. Though now, I got to walk over to answer it, setting my plate and beer down on the island and move annoyed, swinging the door open at the same time grumbling, “What?”

It’s Sneak and Boss. Boss speaks first. “Blood got a lead on that fuckwad who took the girl.”

“Seriously?” I ask, amazed at the man’s skills, and happy he’s on our side. It was just after I got Doc’s call I sent him on the trail. He’s been out hunting Houdini’s location since I saw the DFW photos, but a missing child takes precedence. Will always take precedence.

Between Blood, whose name’s short for Bloodhound because he can sniff out any trail, and Sneak, who can slip in and out ’a just about anywhere without being noticed, ain’t nothing and no one can’t be tracked down with enough time.

“He’s there now. Rundown trailer off Rabbit Hole road.” Sneak offers up.

“Right, be out in a sec,” I answer, leaving the door open but turning to make my way back to Doc.

“Everything okay?” she asks. Burger halfway down from her mouth, she’d just taken a bite. There’s a drip of cheese sauce I’d rather lick off her chin than have to tell her I got to run.

Her eyes, round, concerned, wait for me to answer. Fuck it, I swipe the cheese from her chin with my thumb then suck it off. Her cheeks pink. I love how a woman her age can still get pinked cheeks from such an innocent act. Though between me and her, we both know it was far from innocent.

Knowing how much she wants me to lean on her, too, I decide on honesty without too much honesty. “The boys got a lead. Need to head out.” Even though I raise my eyebrow at her, waiting on the inevitable questions, she proves once again why she’s perfect president of an MC old lady material, and nods. She just nods. That’s trust. She trusts me to keep her safe and get the job done.

Cupping the back of her neck, I lean in as I pull her forward. “Lips,” I whisper. When our lips fuse, even for that briefest moment, all her emotions, all she feels for me shines bright through that kiss. Goddamn if it don’t mean the world.

And after I pull back, immediately move to kiss my Peaches. A pat on Teeny’s head later and I leave to meet my brothers at the bikes. But we don’t leave on the bikes, taking a windowless, white, nondescript van that we keep parked with a tarp covering it until there’s a use for it. Registered to a geezer a couple counties over who happens to have died a decade ago. Ain’t no one tracing it back to us. Our one remaining carryover from the old life.

She might be ancient, but runs quiet. And quiet is exactly what we need.

Before we get too far out, I call Hero to go look after my girls but he’s at the parts store a couple towns over. It’ll take a few for him to get to them. “Hurry,” I tell him.

They’re in the house at the compound. A prospect on the gate. My girls will be fine until he gets there, and I have to focus on what’s going down now.

Half hour later, we roll up to the wooded lot off Rabbit Hole road. The pocked dirt drive has more holes than dirt, so we choose to hide the van in a thick of trees and walk the rest of the way, about two hundred yards back, up to the trailer.

Blood steps briefly from behind a shallow gathering of bushes and Black Walnuts for us to locate him, then steps back right away. We silently make our way over to him.

“He’s in there,” Blood says.

“Any sign of the kid?”

He shakes his head. “No. None. That’s got me worried.”

“Okay, boys. Surround the bastard. Count of three, we go in hot. He ain’t getting away again,” I order.

Head nods from my brothers. Two of us on the front door, and two on the back. I shout, “Three.” and we plow through the doors, guns raised. The bastard has a band tied around his arm and a syringe dangling from the bend of his elbow. Reflexes not near fast enough, he scrambles for his gun, but we overtake him quick and easy.

Face pressed to the dirty, moldy carpet. Or what’s left of the dirty, moldy carpet, I shove the barrel of my gun against the back of his head. “Where’s the girl?”

The bastard is so fucked up on whatever shit he injected into his veins, he giggles, not even like a little girl. It’s too high-pitched and maniacal. A giggle of pure evil.

Boss punches the side of the blitzed bastard’s head. “Where’s the fuckin’ girl?” he shouts. But Houdini’s too out of it to answer. And I’m too frustrated to control my temper any longer. I flip him around to hold him by the neck of his dingy, ripped T-shirt so he can look me in the eyes before I put a bullet in his brain.

“Fuck.” I grumble to the same sentiment from my brothers. It ain’t Houdini. Never seen this guy before in my life.

“How’d you mess this up so bad?” I turn on Blood.

“Didn’t. This is the same guy who ran Caity off the road. He’s the one took that little girl. The trail was good.” He defends himself.

“Prez,” Boss starts. Placing his hand on my shoulder. “He obviously hired this one to take the girl. Probably paid him with whatever he shot up his arm. A druggie like him, even with pictures, wouldn’t have known he got the wrong girl.”

He sent somebody in for him. Knew we been keeping an eye out for Houdini. That rat-bastard sent someone else to run Doc and Peaches off the road. The only thing I can guess is that the guy had eyes on Caitlin, but not our girl. Reason for the break in. Since getting her that day didn’t work.

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