11

Ruger woke the next morning to find Krissi already awake and watching him.

“What's your real name?”

“What?” he frowned, not sure where the question had come from. He wasn't awake enough to figure out why she was asking him this.

“I know they call you Ruger, but that can't be your real name, your legal one.”

He looked at her a second. “Wyatt,” he said after a moment. “Why?”

“I was curious.” Krissi shrugged shoulder on the side she wasn't laying on. “Hmm. Wyatt.” She swirled one finger across his chest. “I like it.”

“No one's called me that in years. I'm not sure I'd even answer to it anymore.” Talking about it made him uncomfortable. No one had used his given name since Ashley died, nearly ten years before. Trying to avoid telling her about his haunting past, he turned the topic, “What's your plan for today?”

“Classes, then work, just like every day. Why?”

“What time you get off work?”

“I'm closing tonight so I won't get out until around 11:00, maybe 11:30.”

Ruger stretched, his joints popping as he extended his arms over his head and pushed his legs and feet straight. “I thought we might stay at my place tonight.” He lifted his head and looked down at where his feet hung off the end of the bed. “My bed is bigger.” He gave her a hopeful grin.

“Oh, my. I didn't realize it was that short for you. Yeah, we can stay at your place. I'll pack up some things before class and take them with me. I don't think I can find your place on my own though. Especially not in the dark.”

“No problem. I'll meet you at the diner when you get off and you can follow me out.”

“All right.” After that they stopped talking. Mouths and hands roamed, then more before they each went their separate ways for the day.

#

After leaving Krissi's place, Ruger went to the Demented Souls clubhouse. Stepping in the front door he blinked several times, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the light. It wasn't as dim as it would be in the evening but after the bright morning sunshine, it took a moment to adjust. Once he could see, he found Lurch sitting on a bar stool, his back against the bar and a coffee cup in one hand as he watched one of the morning news shows on a TV mounted on the wall.

“Get me a cup of that,” Ruger said to the prospect who was unpacking a case of beer into the fridge behind the bar motioning to the cup in Lurch’s hand. The younger man nodded and hurried out of the room without a word. Ruger sat on the stool beside the other man and handed him his cell phone. “Last few pictures are her driver's license.”

Lurch rolled his eyes but took the phone. He hit the screen several times then handed the phone back. “Okay, I got it, sent it to Mac too. I'll run the check in a few and let you know what pops.”

“No hurry. I’m gonna be here for a while, then I’ll be at Drifters until late. Let me know if there's anything important.”

The prospect brought him the coffee he'd ordered then went back to work behind the bar. Ruger and Lurch watched the rest of the news program before Lurch drained his coffee mug and left. Ruger hung around a while longer, checking in with some of the men who were sitting around the large room, not learning much but putting in some face time with the men.

#

It was just before 11:00pm when Ruger left Drifters. The ride from there to the diner took him about two minutes, time he spent thinking about the evening ahead. He was eager to get Krissi back into a bed that didn't leave him sore and aching in all the wrong ways the next morning.

Pulling into the parking lot, he noticed that the Mustang he'd loaned her wasn't in the lot. Maybe she'd gotten off early, but if she had, why hadn't she called him? Parking he went to the side door, the one he knew led to the kitchen and knocked until the overweight cook he'd seen when he'd brought the car came to the door.

“Where's Krissi? Did she get off early tonight?” Ruger asked.

“No clue where she is.” The rounded and balding man wiped wet hands on his stained apron. “She never showed up for her shift today. I had to call in Tanis.” The man tilted his head back toward where he'd come from. The Tanis he was talking about must still be inside.

“Thanks, I'll keep looking.”

“No problem. I hope she's okay. This isn't like her. Some of our waitresses aren't so reliable but you can usually count on Krissi to be here when she should be.”

“Me too.” Ruger frowned and turned back toward his bike while pulling the phone from the inside pocket of his jacket. He dialed her number then put it to his ear and waited, hoping she'd answer and tell him everything was all right.

Her phone rang. A third ring, a fourth. His heart sank. He was about to give up, sure voice mail was going to pick up soon when something changed. The call was answered but no one spoke.

“Krissi?” He asked, sure something was wrong.

“Sorry, Krissi cannot come to the phone right now,” a deep voice with rolling r's and clipped words said.

“Who are you?” Ruger's heart stuttered and his stomach churned. “Where is Krissi?”

“Krissi? Such a pretty name for such a pretty girl but her mouth is not so pretty. She uses words a girl should not. Or she did until I silenced her.” The voice laughed, a low, cruel sounding chuckle. “I don't know if we will use such a nice, pretty name for her, maybe we will give her another one.”

“Who are you?” Ruger ground out each word. He had to know who had taken her before he could figure out how to get her back.

“I thought you would have figured that out by now.” There was a pause and Ruger searched his memory. Who had he pissed off enough for this? The voice on the phone continued, “You took our girls so I took yours. You know, you really should not leave such a prime piece of ass unprotected.”

Ruger's body flashed hot then cold and a red haze clouded his vision for a several seconds. The world, including the phone in his hand, faded and all he heard was static. After a moment, he became aware of a low rumble, almost like the engine of a bike. It took him several seconds to realize he was making the sound. He was standing in the small lot next to the side door of the restaurant growling into his phone. 

“What do I have to do to get her back?” In that moment he didn't care what they wanted. He'd give them whatever it was to get Krissi back.

“Our girls. All of them. By 5:00 AM.”

“If I have them there you'll give back Krissi? Safe and unharmed?”

“We'll have her there, not permanently harmed. But if you're late, or you don't have all my girls, I will give your Krissi to my men.”

“She better be okay when we get there or else.”

The other man laughed again. It was a dark and haunting sound that sent shivers down Ruger’s spine and made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. “We'll be waiting.” The line went dead. Ruger started for his bike again, taking big, ground eating steps as he dialed Tuck.

“We have a problem. The Devils took Krissi. They want their girls back by 5:00 AM.”

“Where are you?”

“A few blocks away. I'll be there in a couple minutes.”

“Okay, good. I'll call an emergency meeting.”

“If they hurt her, they'll pay.”

“Just get here. We'll figure it out.”'

“On my way.” He disconnected the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket. Jamming his helmet on his head, he threw one leg over the bike and jumped on the starter. In seconds, he was on the road. 

At the club house, he pulled into the yard and stopped, not bothering to line his bike up with the others. He didn't want to take the time to park or hang up his helmet so he took that with him instead.

Inside the door, he scanned the room and spotted Tuck near the bar. The president said something to Mac, who he was standing next to, and slapped him on the back then met Ruger's gaze and nodded toward the meeting room in the back. Ruger dipped his head once and went straight there, not bothering to stop for a drink on his way.