Page 32 of Remiss
That was why he couldn’t hang up on Sloane and call Megan himself. He was afraid shehadleft.
“Are you sure?” Diesel’s voice travelled to Christopher through a tunnel. His boy paled, his eyes wide. “Yes, thank you.” Hanging up, he walked woodenly back to the table. “She’s not there,” he croaked. “She didn’t go there.”
CJ lost his color too, while Ransom and Ryder jumped up.
“Where’s Mom, Dad?” Ransom cried.
“Is Axel with her?” Ryder said in a frantic tone. “You think he left us because we were mean to him like you were mean to her and Reb?”
“The vehicles are all still at Kendall’s office,” Stretch announced, holding up his phone.
“Look at the fuckin’ cameras,” Christopher ordered. He was shaking. “Now!”
“I-I can’t anymore,” Stretch whispered. “The feed is disabled.”
“Mattie,” CJ, Ryan, and Rory chorused on a groan.
“Find my fuckin’ wife,” Christopher roared, heading to his bike, intending to tear the world apart until he found his Megan.
All things considered, Digger had gotten off easy. He was severely beaten, but still alive. As much as it pained Mortician to think about the amount of money Outlaw wanted, it was better than the alternative. Even he had to admit, had someone stolen from Bailey, he would’ve cut their fucking hands offifhe didn’t gut the motherfucker.
The only reason Prez went so easy on Digger was becauseof Mort. A part of him still expected Digger to face other repercussions but hoped he was wrong.
Assessing Digger’s various injuries gave Mort a chance to get over his fear that he’d watch Outlaw stomp his brother to death.
“You stupid fuckhead,” Mort growled, lifting Digger’s swollen hand and wincing.
His entire fucking face had swelled into an unrecognizable balloon. As Mort carried Digger to the room, the motherfucker’s leg had dangled. He was sure he had more than a few broken bones.
“Hopefully, you’ll fucking behave,” Mortician said though he was unconscious and couldn’t respond. He touched Digger’s head, his cheek, his arm, and his leg, still a little shell-shocked.
The shit had kicked off so fucking quickly, Mortician hadn’t expected it. Usually, Prez gave an indication when he was in fuck-up mode.
Dropping on the edge of the bed, Mort covered his face. “Goddamn,” he said, blowing out a heavy breath. “Goddamn, goddamn, goddamn.”
He needed to calm down. Digger would survive. Hopefully,thistime, he’d get a fucking clue. Mort was still royally pissed with him, but Bunny needed to know how badly beaten her man was.
He reminded himself he still had to clean up his wounds and abrasions, bandage what he could, and call in someone for the broken bones and gunshots. Chestermighthelp. As long as she didn’t get wind of Digger’s thievery.
Val’s woman was hell on wheels.
Smiling fondly, Mort dug in his cut to get his cell phone and start making calls. While he saw to whatever he could, other motherfuckers could be heading over.
The door opened and Potter walked in.
“Thanks for coming to help, brother,” Mort said, relieved. He’d been afraid to leave Digger and round up what he needed. “If you can bring me—”
“Meggie’s missing, Mort,” Potter cut in. “Not only her, but Kendall, Zoann, Bailey, Roxanne, Ophelia, Axel, Harley, Rebel, and Mattie.”
Panic erupted inside Mort, and he jumped to his feet. “Who took them? The Scorps? Fuck, I have to find my wife and daughter. Can you stay—?”
Before Mort finished the question, Potter shook his head. “Sloane Mason called. Georgie, Brynn, and his private plane are also missing.”
“I beg your fucking pardon?”
“Outlaw wants all hands on deck, Mort. Apparently, Meggie left him and convinced the other women to leave, too.”
“That don’t make no fucking sense. Meggie girl…left Prez? AndBaileywent with her?”
