Page 52 of Mile High With the Bikers
“A week isn’t very long, but how long do you think we have to know her before it’s okay to get bossy?” He lines up his shot and sinks an easy ball.
I laugh. “Two weeks? Pretty sure she wouldn't be nearly as interested in sucking our dicks if we clipped her wings. Rory’s smart. She’d never be happy just sitting around here doing what she’s told.”
Diesel walks the perimeter of the table, looking at the positions. “I told her about my Mom.”
“No shit? What did she say?” It took years before I heard the full story. The fact that Rory got it out of him this fast means she’s getting in under his skin like she is mine.
“I thought she would run, but she felt fuckingbadfor me.”
I grunt supportively, when what I really want to say is: ‘Thank fucking God. Maybe you’ll listen to her and stop torturing yourself.’ “She'll be safe. Her dad's an asshole, but I can't picture him harming his precious prodigy.” That's what I keep telling myself at least.
“You think we can get her back when this is over?” His shot misses, bad. We're never gonna be world class pool players, butwe don't usually suck this hard. We're too distracted. Shrapnel better be on top of this.
Fuck, I know he is. He wouldn't be anything else.
I try to sneak past the eight ball and sink it instead. “Motherfucker.”
“Yeah, screw this game.” Diesel jams his cue stick into the rack. “Never liked it.”
“Uh huh. Or you’re as full of shit as I am.”
“We could ride, and if we happen to go in the direction he took Rory, that’s not stalking, right?” Diesel paces like a fucking lion stalking the guests at the zoo. Just waiting for one of them to think they're cool and tough enough to climb the fence for a selfie.
“Nah. If we do that?—”
My phone rings. I've never answered so fucking fast in my life. I don't even look at the screen. “Talk to me.”
“Um, Is this… Bull? Did I get that right?” I pull the phone from my ear a moment to read the screen. Unlisted.
“Yeah, this is Bull. Who the hell are you? If you’re trying to sell tickets to the policeman’s ball, you can take your phone and shove it up your?—”
“I’m Tim Jones. I'm one of Mr. Whittaker's personal bodyguards. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Ms. Whittaker, but she's not answering her phone. Mr. Whittaker had your number on file.”
“What do you mean she’s not answering?” I wave Diesel over and put the phone into speaker mode. “Did you try your pal Mason?”
Timmy boy pauses. “What do you mean?”
“No, motherfucker, that's not how this works. You tell me what’s so important first and then I decide if I want to elaborate. Why are you looking for her?”
Jones takes a moment to consider. “Mr. Whittaker had a meeting this morning with several clients interested in his newest project. On the way to the arranged meeting, we were waylaid and Mr. Whittaker was taken. I have longstanding instructions to take Ms. Whittaker into protective custody should anything happen to her father. It’s imperative that we don’t lose both of them.” He sounds like he’s trying to stay professional when what he really wants to do is punch someone.
Diesel mouths,What the fuck?
I raise an eyebrow at Diesel and shrug. “Again, why haven’t you talked to Mason?”
“Mind telling me why you keep asking about him?” Tim doesn’t sound happy.
I don’t like feeding him information, but we can’t keep going in circles. “Because he came by earlier to tell us about the attack. But according to him, your boss is on lockdown in one of his offices. One of you is lying. Who is it, Timmy?”
The next pause is longer. “What the fuck? Where is Rory?” Tim growls. “The last time I saw Mason, he was being thrown into the back of a car along with Mr. Whittaker, while the rest of our team was getting shot at.”
“For a kidnapped guy, he looked pretty chill when he came by earlier and collected Rory to take her to her father.” I’m keeping my voice even, but I have a bad feeling that it's not Timmy who’s lying. And this time I’m going to fucking well listen to my gut. “He was here maybe an hour ago.”
“Wait, what? He took Ms. Whittaker? But he… The whole point of keeping her with you was so you wouldkeep her there! Hold on, I’m sending you a picture, let me know if this is the man you saw.”
I mute the phone and snarl. “This is bullshit. I recognized the guy from the plane, and it was definitely Whittaker’s bodyguard.”
Diesel nods, but we both still wait for the image to come through and confirm.
