Danny
After his meeting with the rest of the Fallen Knights, Danny rode back to Sara's place. He was still pissed off, mainly at the Free Jackals, but he realized in the last hour that he was redirecting his anger onto her. And she didn't deserve that. He felt just like his father, a man who could lose control at any moment.
Of course Sara wasn't ready for this kind of thing. Who would be? She wasn't a biker, and hadn't ever been some other biker's ol' lady, before. Shit, he'd kicked a fucking hole in her wall like some raging asshole. He probably terrified her with his outburst. He'd be lucky if she'd see him again. Ever.
And, honestly, he wouldn't have been able to blame her if she didn't.
He pulled up in front of his place and got off his bike. Her lights were still on, just like when he'd left. He was hoping she was awake still, and that maybe they could talk things out after their argument. Of course, he had more than just relationship patching to do. He had a hole in the dry wall to fix, too. But that could wait till morning.
He headed up the little walkway, past the poorly landscaped flowerbeds, and went to her front door.
Something was off. Her front door was slightly ajar. He walked up and called her name.
No answer.
“Sara?” he called again.
Still nothing.
He suddenly felt like vomiting. Where was she? What the fuck was going on? He pushed open her door and went inside. This wasn't like her.
Her apartment was empty, just like he'd feared it would be. He stalked though her rooms, calling her name, despite the fact that there weren't many places she could have disappeared to in the small one bedroom unit.
“Maybe she just went out with Penny?” he said aloud to the empty living room. “Or to find a job?” He shook his head. That was ridiculous. The evening was late, and she hadn't mentioned any interviews. He couldn't think of where else she'd be, though.
That's when he saw something on the ground. A piece of notebook paper with a scrawling handwritten note on its surface. He went over and picked the discarded page up, read over it. “You should look after the people you care about – Adam.”
Adam. Where did he recognize that name from?
He scrolled back through all his friends over the years, all the people he'd known or made enemies of. One name in particular stood out. A kid he used to run with, way back in the day.
Adam had been a friend once, long ago. When he was younger, he'd hung out with a bunch of wannabe bikers. Kids whose dads were in MCs, or whose dads had always wanted to be in an MC. They'd ride their little 50cc dirt bikes around out in the woods, smoke cigarettes, drink cheap beer they'd gotten with a “Hey Mister?” from the local gas station.
But, that couldn't have been Adam in that shitty flophouse apartment. The Adam he knew was a skinny kid, all bones and sinew. The guy that had attacked him had been a fucking giant. But, now, as Danny thought about the other biker who'd come after him with a baseball bat, he realized that the batter was him. Those eyes, those crazy fucking eyes that Adam had. They were still the same, even after all these years.
His gaze had been intense, unnerving. Some of the other guys had been scared of him, thought he was a little too crazy, even for their group. He'd just always been the type of guy to tie fireworks to a cat's tail, or shoot birds with a pellet gun. Kid's shit, but Adam always took a little bit too much joy in things of that nature.
Adam.
How could he not have realized who had been terrorizing him all this time, until now? How could he have been so stupid?
He crumpled up the paper in his hand, his face twisting into a grimace as he roared his pain and anger. This wasn't fair. Sara didn't deserve to be a target of this shit. It should have been Danny, not the mother of his child.
Danny pulled out his phone and went through the text messages. He scrolled to the series of texts he'd received earlier, when his brother had been in trouble. The ones threatening to get him to overdose.
“A, Free Jackal,” the text had been signed.
Not “A Free Jackal,” like Danny had originally thought! Instead, the sign-off had been, “Adam, Free Jackal.” He growled, stuffed his phone away, and began to pace. Okay, this didn't make any goddamned sense. He knew Adam, that much was clear. And the guy was holding a grudge against him, and his family, for something. But why? And for what? He hadn't done anything to the guy, hadn't ever gone out of his way to slight him or hurt him.
Did he want money? Did he want something to brag to his buddies about? He was a Jackal, so it could be tied to that.
Well, whatever the reason was, Danny was pretty sure he had Sara. Which meant, first and foremost, he had to get her back. That was his main priority. Figuring out the motivations of a fucking psychopath could come later, once he had her back safe and sound.
He pulled his phone out again and started to call Thorn and the rest of the guys. He'd need help if he was going to find her and get her back. He couldn't do this alone.
# # #
Danny had searched everywhere he could think of in town. But, when that hadn't panned out, he started to look over near the university. Restless, he cruised up and down the streets in the early morning, looking for any sign of her. His head swiveled back and forth to either side of the road as he tried to put the pieces together.
No luck. No signs. No clues. Only heart ache and worry. He pulled over at a twenty-four hour diner, one of the late-night breakfast places, and stopped in for a cup of coffee.
“You alright tonight, hon?” the waitress asked as she placed the cup of coffee he'd ordered down in front of him.
Danny grunted. “Yeah. Just keep the coffee coming. Got a long night ahead of me.”
The waitress, her own long night ahead of her, nodded her agreement to the sentiments.
He took a sip of coffee. As he was setting his cup back down, his phone vibrated. He snatched his cell up, hoping for some news from Thorn or one of the other guys.
Instead, there was another text message from Adam, on that unknown number. His breath caught in his chest. This could be what he needed, good or ill. A clue to find her. A clue to save Sara.
“Do you think she'll survive being frozen out like I was?” the message read.
Frozen out . . . sounded like a freezer, maybe. Maybe that, or a refrigeration unit, or trailer. Old meat lockers. It could be almost anything.
He picked up the phone and called Thorn.
“Yeah?” Thorn growled on the other end of the line when he picked up.
“Tell the guys to check refrigeration units, old warehouses, that kind of thing. Anywhere they can think of a walk-in cooler unit. He said something about freezing out, so maybe that's the clue we're looking for.”
“Got it, Danny,” Thorn rumbled. “You holding up alright?” he asked, concern in his voice.
“No,” Danny said, “I'm not. I'll keep looking out here. If you hear anything, let me know.”
“Yep,” Thorn simply replied, then the line was dead.
He tossed his phone down on the table, next to his coffee. He ran both his hands back through his hair, staring down into the deep abyss that was the swirling black liquid in front of him.
That's where she was. In the abyss. Deep enough, and far enough, away that he couldn't reach out and touch her. But all he could do was make a desperate grab for her and try to pull her back to him. The struggle to set things right was all he had anymore.
Tonight wasn't a good night for Danny Skinner. Or Sara Taylor.