Page 60 of Devil's Due: Sarge

It rings.

And rings…

And rings…

His voicemail just connects when I hang up.

Then I try again.

Finally, I’ve run out of time and when the voicemail picks up, I leave a message. “Meet me at English Ivy Bed and Breakfast. It’s urgent. I’ll be there by eight.”

I grab my wallet and keys, rushing from the room and when I get to the common room, look around to grab a brother to come with. The first man I see, Jinx, waves at me, then his face falls into a scowl when he registers that I’m obviously troubled.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, stomping over to me.

“I can’t get a hold of Sarge. My stepbrother contacted me. He has news on the women taken from Texas, but he’ll only tell what he knows if I come to him willingly.”

“You’re not going.”

He certainly has the bossy biker thing down.

“I am going. I’m just not going alone. That’s why I’m telling you… but I’m running out of time.”

“Give me one second. Don’t leave.”

“Promise.” I cross my heart. Again, not sure what kind of women they’re used to around here that they think I’d so readily run off alone into a possibly dangerous situation. No thank you. I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime.

When Jinx runs back into the common, he’s shoving a gun into a holster concealed by his jacket proclaiming him a prospect of The Bedlam Horde MC.

“You stayed put,” he says, sounding surprised. I punch his arm. He deserved it.

“I told you I would.”

Off and running, he plucks the keys from my hand. Were these men collectively dropped on their heads as babies? Why do they have such a difficult time letting a woman drive them? He’s just lucky we’re in too much of a time crunch for me to argue… or punch him again.

“English Ivy Bed and Breakfast,” I direct him. Bringing up the bed and breakfast, I let the GPS lead us to our destination.

It takes us about twenty minutes to reach the place once we hit Bentley and it’s absolutely beautiful. A huge Tudor-style house. No ivy on the structure, but the groundcover is full of the stuff. Flowers. Hedges. Trees. It looks like the kind of place couples’ book for weddings. I’d bet they host a fair few of them here.

As we swing into the parking lot, there’s a sign pointing us in the direction of the restaurant. It’s open to the public. I point to a Benz in the lot. The only one. I know in an instant that it’s Patrick’s. He wouldn’t drive any less.

Jinx walks in following close behind. I see my stepbrother before he sees me. Taking a deep breath, we make the approach. It’s safe to call Patrick pissed when he sees Jinx.

“I told you to come alone.” His tone is positively arctic.

“Do you really think I’m that stupid? Bad things happen to women who go alone when someone tells them to ‘come alone.’”

“You’ll be sorry you didn’t follow directions, little girl.”

Jinx’s body goes solid behind me. He’s not even touching me, but I feel it just the same. He’s that wired. “You need to watch how you talk to the lady.” He growls out his words so low and menacing that they’re almost guttural. Jinx is always so sweet and jovial. I can’t remember ever hearing him talk like this before. He’s definitely showing his Horde colors.

The problem is, now Patrick is coiling like a snake ready to strike and I realize this situation is about to explode like an atom bomb if I don’t act quickly. “Patrick,” I start, using what I hope sounds outwardly calm because to my own ears, it’s trembling. “Please tell me what you know. This is your chance to do the right thing. Help me help those women.”

“Sister… why would I want to help them when I’ve found it’s much more lucrative to use them?”

They almost don’t register, his words. But then, at my dawning understanding, right at that exact moment, what I’d feared would happen before happens now. Patrick rips a gun from inside his suit jacket and opens fire.

In a restaurant.

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