FORTY-THREE

Hooch

No water. No food. And I hear the weather is only going to get warmer. Wonder how long she’ll last?

I can’t look away. Yet I can’t look at her. My eyes rove the graphic picture of Dagne, settling on every detail except for the most obvious: her. Somewhere in this picture is the key to where she is. Cornfield. I focus on the color of the dirt, knowing it changes as you travel around the country. I’ve got a wide net, considering they’ve been gone the better part of a day now.

“What is it?” Crackers jerks his chin to my phone.

I glance up at my friend, my brother, and can’t find the words. I should pass it over to him and get him to work our contacts for anything we can extract, yet the part of me that likes to make my heart suffer looks down again.

At her.

At her naked body, tied to the post like a goddamn piñata waiting to be hit again.

My shoulders shake, my fist tight around the phone, but the rage needs another outlet. Without anything around me to transfer her pain and suffering to, I take it as my own.

And I cry, silent tears.

For the second time since my life fell apart outside Carlos’ compound, I give in and let the emotions out the only way I know how.

“Hooch, man,” Crackers says quietly as he leans across from where he’s seated on his bike next to me.

We rode to every known safe house and contact’s residence within an hour of the first location. Without anything else to go on, all we could do was canvas the area and hope that somebody saw them, that somebody had a clue as to where Digits would take her.

Because I had no idea.

And all the while, he was doing this to her.

If I knew it would locate her and bring her peace from what Digits did to her, I’d stab myself in the heart right now and take full responsibility for how I’ve failed her. I had one job, and I was fucking useless at it. One job.

To find the traveller.

“How do we do it?” I ask through broken chords. “We can’t do it.”

Crackers reaches across and eases the phone out of my grasp. We’re lined up outside a convenience store waiting on Murphy to return with something to eat.

“Fuck, man.” Even his face twists in pain. “Fuckin’ hell, Hooch.”

“Tell me what to do,” I beg. “How do I bring her home?”

He slips off the bike, taking the phone with him as he jogs into the store. I raise my hand to the pocket inside my cut and pat around, searching for the tinderbox. Yet it’s not there, and even if it were, what good would it do?

Would it fill this crack that snakes through the ice in my heart? Would it ease the fire that rages in my soul for how much of a failure I am to those I love? Would it bridge the pain that remains after losing those I love, that grows at the thought of losing another?

Because I do love this little woman. So fucking much. I just couldn’t tell her in case it scared her away. Ridiculous, right?

I broke her heart in the hopes it would keep her in mine. I held off from telling her the one thing she needed to hear in case it meant she told me the one thing I didn’t: that she doesn’t feel the same.

I couldn’t face the thought that she’d leave me, so I tried to deny I had anything to lose to begin with. I made her work to stay, when in reality I was pushing her away.

And now I’ve not only lost it all, but she’s suffered in the worst way because of my ignorance.

I should have shot Digits the second he pulled the trigger on Heather. I should have choked the life out of the asshole when Dagne first showed King and I the messages.

I should have done so much more.

Always too late.

Crackers emerges from the store with Murphy trailing behind carrying an arm full of hot food. He strides over to where I sit feeling helpless, and slaps me on the back.

“Don’t worry, brother. We’ve got a plan. And if that doesn’t work, well, then we make another one. And another, all until we find her.” He reaches over to Murphy and snags a hotdog from his hold. “First, you need to eat. No point runnin’ on empty, is there?”

He thrusts the food at my chest, and I take it, staring down at the sausage and bun and wondering if I’ll ever feel hungry again. Murphy lays the rest of the food out on the seat of his bike, and then starts into his own hotdog while Crackers stands off to the side with his phone. He lifts it to his ear, and I watch him, curious, as I take a bite of the dog.

“Hey, brother.” His eyes lift to find mine. “We’ve got a bit of a situation down here … Yeah … Who else? … Seems he wanted to hit Hooch where it hurts most … Uh-huh … Well, that’s just it. We’re not sure … He’s sent us an image showing where she is, but with nothing to go off other than that … Nope, no clues. Just the picture … That’s what I was wonderin’ … You think he might be able to? … Sounds good. I’ll forward what we’ve got … Yeah, thanks, brother.”

Crackers disconnects as I stuff the last of the hotdog into my mouth, oblivious to the fact I’ve been devouring it while listening to him talk.

“King’s goin’ to get in touch with Ty.” Of course. “He thinks that he might be able to pull some miracle out of his ass using the image, Digits’ carrier details, and known points of interest.”

Why didn’t I think of that? Digits wasn’t the only tech whiz we know. Only one in the club, sure, but the Butcher Boy, Ty, sure gives him a run for his money.

“How long you think it’d take?”

“How long is a piece of string?” He shrugs.

I ball the empty bag and toss it at the nearby trashcan. “Either of you remember where Digits is from?”

Crackers looks to Murphy, who shrugs. “Nope.”

“I’m pretty sure he mentioned something about Dalhart once.”

“That would make sense,” Murphy says.

I hold out my fingers, counting out the hours. “We got to the safe house in Vernon at roughly one-thirty this afternoon right?”

“Uh-huh.” Crackers slips his hotdog out of the bag.

“And he’d already been there. Beth said Dagne left around nine, right? So that means he would have arrived at the house just before lunch.”

Both men nod, following my train of thought as I tap out the hours on my fingertips.

“Even if he left only half an hour before us, that means he would have been able to make it to Dalhart around four-thirty or five.” I check the time on my phone to confirm my thoughts. “An hour ago.”

“So it’s possible, then,” Crackers says. “He went to his hometown. But why?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. Why would he head back there? Then again, people naturally gravitate to the familiar when they’re feeling overwhelmed. “But if he has, that rules out the possibility that he took that photo of Dagne hours ago to get a head start on us.”

“It’s recent.” Murphy walks to the bin, tossing his wrappers. “But we’re still four or so hours away.”

“Be even less if we get movin’.” Like hell I’m about to sit idle while Dagne’s strung up like a used party favor.

“I’ll call King back,” Crackers says. “He can ask Ty to start lookin’ around Dalhart.”

“Good.”

“I’ll let Jo Jo know where we’re at,” Murphy adds. “He can round up who’s able bodied so they can set off as soon as we have confirmation.”

“Sure.” I nod at each of them, immensely thankful for their level heads.

Now all I have to do is get to Dagne before it’s too late so I can let her know everything I’ve held back the past few weeks. She’s right, she always was. I need to open up, and I needed to trust my brothers.

If this hasn’t proven her right, then what will? They didn’t judge me like I feared when I admitted I didn’t know what to do. They rallied behind me and gave me strength when I had none.

They did what any friends would do. What family should do. What I need to do for my woman.

My woman.

Gonna make sure of that the second I get her home and cared for. Because I will get her home.

Ain’t no other option.