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DON’T TAKE MY BABY: Twisted Ghosts MC by Zoey Parker (89)


 

Zane

 

When I got to the house, the driveway was empty. My heart sank.

 

“It ain’t a joke,” I said under my breath. “He shot my fuckin’ father. If he thinks that’s a joke, then I’ll be butched.” I decided to search the house, just in case Jake had left me any clues as to where he was headed. Climbing out of the car, I saw something that made my mouth go dry. “Shit,” I muttered. “What the fuck is that?”

 

Walking a few feet down the sidewalk, I saw a body. It was an old woman, a woman I recognized. She was someone I’d seen from time to time when I went out to get my mail, or when I kicked a girl out of my house in the wee hours of the morning. She’d been shot in the head. Blood was pooling around her body and her skin already looked like wax. Jake’s third victim, I thought grimly to myself. What a fucking motherfucker he is!

 

“I’m sorry,” I said to the body, feeling inadequate. Jogging back towards the house, I kicked open the front door. The house looked perfect, just as I’d left it. There was no sign of a struggle. I checked the stairs for blood, wondering how Jake had managed to wrangle Isabella outside so easily. She wasn’t a small woman, but he wasn’t a huge man either. I had to imagine she was so frightened that she either went with him willingly, or he’d surprised her.

 

Bounding up the stairs two at time, I checked my bedroom for signs of anything foul and unusual. It was a mess: the bed wasn’t made and the drawers had been yanked open, exposing my clothes. That fucker, I thought, realizing Jake must have gone through my drawers, looking for money or a gun. I shook my head, relieved I kept my gun in a secret hiding place: taped to the underside of the bureau. I reached below the bureau and yanked it out, sticking it in the back of my pants.

 

I’ll get you, asshole, I thought. I was raging. I couldn’t ever remember being this angry. I hadn’t even been this angry when I suspected Lionel was going to pick Jake over me. I’d never felt like this; I’d never felt this horrid sense of betrayal.

 

And Isabella. Suddenly, I regretted being so harsh with her. I knew that maybe, if I’d been a little kinder, this never would have happened. She never would have tried to leave if I’d shown her the love and support she deserved. But there was no time to wallow now, no time to keep blaming myself. I had to figure out where Jake had taken her, and I had to figure it out fast.

 

I ran back downstairs and grabbed a few bottles of water from the fridge, along with a sandwich I’d made and hadn’t eaten yet. I figured Isabella would be dehydrated when I found her, and she’d need to eat to keep up her strength for the baby. Jake was a monster. Sure, the family had done some unsavory things in our day, but we’d never hurt a woman before, especially not a pregnant woman.

 

“There’s a special place in hell for you, Jake boy,” I said as I shoved the foil-wrapped sandwich and bottles of water into a cooler. “And you ain’t gonna be happy when you get there.”

 

Finally, as a last resort, I checked the dining room. There was nothing missing, but I saw something glinting in the carpet. My heart leapt into my throat when I realized it was Isabella’s half of Gianni’s locket. Jake must have dragged her down the stairs, and I imagined it had come off in the struggle.

 

“I’ll give this back, as soon as I find you,” I promised, tucking the necklace inside of my pocket. “I promise.”

 

Five minutes later, I was back in the car. The sun was starting to set and I knew I had to get to Isabella fast. The nights in this part of the country got real cold, especially at this time of year, and she was bound to get sick if Jake left her exposed to the elements. I could have killed him; I could have ripped him apart with my bare hands. I couldn’t believe the man who had been raised as my brother would drag my wife and unborn child outside and leave them there. It was medieval, barbaric. The kind of thing he deserved to be tortured for.

 

On second thought, I ran back into the house and grabbed my tool box, throwing it in the back of my car. When I caught Jake, I was going to make sure he had a very painful time left on earth before departing for hell. A sick grin twisted upon my lips. I’d never been filled with this kind of vengeance.

 

At first, the violence in the family had made me a little sick. I’d never understood the pleasure Lionel and Gianni took from torturing people. I’d always thought it was a little Roman, a little excessive. But now I understood. The desire to rip Jake apart limb from limb was growing like hot air in my belly. I felt like someone had very literally lit a fire right underneath me, to keep me going, to make me care.

 

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I relished answering this time, hearing Jake’s voice, knowing I was closing in on him. As soon as Isabella was safe, I was going to rip him apart. “Hi, Jake,” I said in a calm, even voice. “I assume you’re calling to let me know the random is tripled?”

 

Jake laughed heartily. I wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him. “We dumped Blondie in the woods,” he said with a cackle. “If you find her, she’s yours, Zane!”

 

I gritted my teeth and let out an animalistic, growling sound. “Fuck you,” I snarled. “Just going to let her die, are you? That’s real classy, Jake.”

 

“I thought you’d appreciate it,” Jake said. I could picture the very same snarl on his face that I was wearing. “So, you better find her. You know, the nights around these parts of town get real, real cold.”

 

“I know that, shitwit,” I said, growling again. “Why the fuck are you doing this?”

 

“Because I want to see you sweat,” Jake said. He laughed. “And because you were really getting on my fucking nerves about that coke deal. You really thought I was going to fucking help you! You really thought I gave a shit about what happened to your status in the business!” He laughed uproariously. “Like I would ever give a shit about you, Zane,” Jake sneered. “You should have learned not to be such a fucking pest. You’re not a man at all. You’re a sniveling, conniving little brat.”

 

I was seething by the time Jake was done with his statement. “Fuck you,” I replied again. “I’m in the car now, and I’m driving. I know I’ll find her, Jake. And when I do, you’re dead fucking meat.”

 

“Yeah, right,” Jake said casually. “You ain’t gonna find her. We did a real good job of hiding her, didn’t we, Rico?”

 

I shuddered. “You let Rico touch my fucking wife?”

 

“Maybe that’s not all I let him do,” Jake said. I could hear him smiling through the phone. “Maybe it was. Guess you’ll have to find out yourself, won’t you?”

 

I hung up. I knew Jake hadn’t been on the road with me when he called me the second time. When he was driving, he always used a speakerphone and the quality of his voice wasn’t as good. Only one hour had passed and I knew he couldn’t have gotten very far out of town. Still, the sun was going down and I had my headlights on. It was freezing cold outside, and Isabella had only been clad in a thin blouse and leggings.

 

I shuddered. If I didn’t find her, she and the baby growing inside her belly would die of hypothermia. I knew it as well as I knew the scars on my own body. Jake had done this very carefully. There was a chance I would still reach her, but it would take me well out of the way, with my house unguarded.

 

I was glad I’d swung by and grabbed my gun. Hold on, Isabella, I’m coming, I thought as I pressed my foot to the gas pedal and sent the Porsche hurtling down the highway outside of Morris.

 

I counted the mile markers, trying to calculate how far Jake could have gotten. His car, a Mercedes, was nice but I knew mine was faster and it likely wouldn’t take me as much time as it had taken Jake. Plus, he was carrying Rico — who was heavy — and Isabella.

 

When I got to mile marker seventeen, I parked my car on the side of the road and ran into the woods. It was fully dark now, and I knew I had to find her as quickly as possible.

 

“Isabella!” I yelled as loudly as I could. “Isabella! I’m here! It’s me, Zane!”