Page 37 of Scotch: Unraveled

Christ, it had to be loud. Did no neighbors come to check on them?

This can’t be happening again. We killed that fucker Houdini. Frankie had no psychotic ex coming after her. Did Brighton? I fall to my knees. If one hair is out of place on Frankie’s head, if they’ve hurt Mollie or Macie, whoever did this will wish for death before I’m done. That I swear.

Finally, a neighbor comes to check on the commotion I’ve caused. “You okay?” he asks.

“Call 9-1-1. The house is trashed. They’re missing.”

“Missing?” he asks, and I snap.

“Fucking go—now. Call the police.”

The man runs back inside his house and I fish my phone from my pocket to call my brothers. It’s Duke who finally answers. “Not goin’ well?” he asks, chuckling at something someone says there at the club. I can’t make out the words, just that there’s a voice.

“They been kidnapped!” I yell. “I need yar help.”

“What?” he shouts. “Music off!” The music in the background cuts immediately. “Fuck, you mean kidnapped?”

“I got to Brighton’s place; it’s turned. Furniture flipped and broken glass and the lasses are gone.”

“Call the police?” he asks.

“I had a neighbor call; don’t know if he did it. Duke, brother, my hands are shaking. I feel sick. Wanna take me on, fine, but women and babes?”

“I need the address.”

“I—”

“Calm down and gimme the goddamn address.”

I finally hear the sirens in the distance. “Turkey Hill. Uh, five-thirteen. The cops are coming.”

“Stay calm, brother. Boss is on the line with Tommy right now. We’ll be there in ten.”

Before long, Brighton’s house is swarmed with Thornbriar PD and Lords on the front lawn waiting for news. Tommy goes in with a kit to check for anything biological aside from the small spot of blood on the floor.

“Got prints,” Tommy calls as he walks out. “No other biological traces.” He pauses to let that sink in. No other biological traces means he may not have violated the women, at least not yet. “But he sure don’t care if we find his identity—left prints all over the front room.”

“What now?” I ask, so tense I’m coming outta my skin.

“Now you head home and wait for my call ’less you want Blood and Hero on this, too.”

Duke cuts in. “Already on it.”

Go home? I can’t go home when my family’s missing, but the longer I stand around with my thumb up my arse, the angrier I get. Keep going over it in my head, who would want to hurt Frankie or Brighton?

Suddenly, the answer hits me like a shot between the eyes. It was that fucker Rodrick. I’d bet my life on it. Heading for my truck, one thing’s certain, I’m getting my family back before I put a bullet betweenhiseyes.

“Where you goin’?” Blue, one of the newer brothers, calls out to me, catching the attention of the other brothers. Shite, that’s the last thing I need.

“Didn’t get yer answer.” Duke’s gruff voice stops me. “Where the fuck you going?”

“Shite to take care of.”

“What shit?” he demands to know.

“Gee, sorry, Dad… didn’t know I had a curfew.” Our president or not, he doesn’t get to control my movements.

“Yer woman and kids have been taken and I can’t have ya running off halfcocked causing trouble while we try to figure this out.”

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