Page 77 of Creep
Prophet’s expression changes, and something flickers behind his eyes. As if he’s waking up to what I’m saying with everyinhale of smoke. “Creep, he’s… I’ve only known him a while, but he’s a gentle soul. You have to take into account that yesterday’s fight might have spooked him. The biker life isn’t for everyone—”
I slap the cig out of his hand and push him at the railing in fury. The wood creaks when he hits it. “You’re not listening! I know Angel better than I know my own soul. Call it fucking psychic if you want. It’s like he disappeared into thin air, slipped into darkness and I’m on the edge of it, clawing at the shadows, because I know he needs me. I can’t reach him, Prophet.” My voice cracks, and I can’t even be embarrassed because I’d crawl naked over broken glass if it got me closer to Angel.
Prophet looks straight into my eyes, holding onto the balustrade as if he expects me to hurl him over it. “Okay. I hear you, brother.” He puts his hand on my shoulder, and I’m surprised how calming that feels. “What are you saying happened? Where do we start looking?”
The“we”in that last question makes me feel less alone. I won’t have to dig through the dark with bleeding fingers all by myself. As I wrack my brain for clues, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the glass doors of the balcony.
“Domino,” I whisper, his name like bile spilling over my tongue. “I shouldn’t be telling you this but I have to. Domino’s his ex, and he’s not taking rejection well. He’s obsessed with Angel, and yesterday, he found out where he is and with who. You must keep this a secret until we’re sure, but he could have taken Angel. He knows this area, and wherever Angel went, Domino could have followed him. Fuck!” I can’t keep my voice down as I kick the innocent wooden chair. “He took him. He must have. I should have been there. I should have—” I cover my head and scoot down, once more falling into endless darkness when I remember Domino’s hand on Angel’s neck.
Prophet crouches beside me, then exhales through his nose, calm as always. “We don’t panic. We act.”
I drop my hands to look at him, slouched and curled up as if I’m no longer human but some creature from the caves. My vision’s still shaking at the edges. “You believe me?” I croak.
He meets my eyes, and his hand is back on my arm, warm and grounding. “I believe the look on your face. You’ve never come to me like this. Never asked for special treatment. If you say someone took Angel, I’m going to believe it until I’ve got proof otherwise.”
The calm force in his voice cuts through the screaming panic in my head, and I can see again.
He stands and reaches down to haul me up. “But I need your head on straight now. If you spiral, we lose time. Domino’s their road captain, a core member. I’ll arrange a meeting with the Butchers that requires him to be there in an instant. If he has Angel, he’d have to either bring him or leave him on his own. I’ll get some of our guys to be the eyes on his house, but if he took Angel elsewhere, we’ll be able to follow him after the meeting. One of our guys is good at stalking.” Prophet smirks, and I’m so overwhelmed it takes me a moment to realize he means me.
I nod.
“We’ll find him,” Prophet says and pulls me into a quick bear hug. It’s a rare thing to happen, but for once, I don’t stiffen and instead pat his back too.
Muffled laughter and whistling reaches us through the balcony door and I spot the women in his bed giggling as they watch us, which reminds me Prophet’s naked. I pull away awkwardly, but he’s already going back inside.
“Sorry, babes, will need to head out after all. You know where the beers and snacks are if you want to stick around.” Prophet turns to me as he grabs his phone. “Go rally the guys. I’ll meet you in fifteen by the garage.”
I stumble out of his house dazed but with a purpose beneath the fog in my head. I now regret being respectful and not putting a tracker on Angel’s car.
Chapter 30
Angel
Mythroatisrawfrom calling for help. The car rocks over uneven terrain, as if I’m a cat stuck inside a tumble dryer, and my thoughts drift to the tea I dropped when a bag was put over my head. The man who accosted me out of nowhere fastened it around my throat so tightly I’m struggling to breathe, but with hands cuffed behind my back, there’s nothing I can do but focus on each inhale.
Did the juniper berry tea I got for Creed fall into the car when I was attacked, or was it left in the dark parking lot? It was a special order, and I wanted to brew it for him each morning, using moon water, so he’s safe, no matter where club business takes him.
Did this happen because I gave away my amulet and failed to replace it? And is it normal to even have such thoughts when the person who shoved me into the trunk of my own car is— No, it doesn’t have to be him. This might be a misunderstanding. I could have been mistaken for someone else. After all, Domino is far from the only man who smells of engine oil, tobacco, and bad choices. But I can’t wish away the grim reality that might just consume me for good.
I’m scared.
No, terrified, but my attempts to kick at the cover were for nothing, and if somebody heard me scream, they’d likely dismiss it as benign.
I’m alone with Domino, and he is taking me someplace I will never leave.
The best I can do is remember that this might not be the end. That Creed now knows of my past with this bastard and… and… what? Confronts him, putting himself in danger without having all the information? Get hurt?
My chest aches just thinking about it.
The car comes to a stop without warning, and as the engine dies, so does my hope. I don’t get to pluck my thoughts out of the smog in my skull by the time the trunk opens, and two firm hands drag me out.
That smell again. After sleeping with my head on Creed’s chest and sensing only the mild aroma of soap linger over his natural scent, the bold, peppery cologne drilling deep into my nostrils is overloading my senses. But I let myself pretend that the man who took me isn’t Domino until I’m standing and his big, calloused hand settles around my neck in a way I could recall in the middle of the night.
Gasping for air, I kick back, hoping to get him in the knee, but before I can flee into the darkness, to be devoured by wolves, grizzly bears, or whatever else lives in the area, he shoves meforward. My arms jerk, but I can’t catch myself before I fall, and zip ties dig into my flesh as I collapse like a log. The impact knocks my lungs empty, and my chin hits the ground, teeth clacking shut as I try to work out If I’m now broken, or if my body just feels that way.
Pain shoots up my back and down my thighs as Domino places one foot in the middle of my lower back, along with a substantial part of his weight, and I explode into sobs as everything darkens. I can’t get enough air, and my nose is getting congested too. He brought me here to hurt me.
His exhale is exaggerated, as if he’s trying to show me how unbothered he is by my fear. “What did you expect, going behind my back like that, huh? I thought we had an understanding. You come to my place twice a week, and I don’t ask questions. But I didn’t think you’d stoop to bending over for that creep. And I see you’re wearing his patches? You’remyfucking property now!”
