Chapter Two
Slater
“Slater… you and Finch head to her apartment, break in and raid that fucker. Grissom, you run the streets between here and there and drag any females you find to me. I want this bitch’s head.” Puck’s efforts to find the girl are now desperate. It’s killing me not to blow this entire fucking club apart, but I have to be patient… something I’m fucking terrible at. I’ve spent four years trying to get positioned so I can mutilate this asshole and take him down for all the fucked-up shit he’s done. Now isn’t the time to make a wrong move and draw any attention to myself.
“You got it, Boss.” Finch is an ass kisser. A loyal dick that’ll do anything Puck says, even if it’s irrational and dangerous. The girl is safe if she did what I told her, I just hope to fuck she doesn’t allow that stubborn ass of hers to make an appearance and ruin the plan I have to get her out of here.
Sitting in my truck, I send a text to the ghost phone I left in the storage unit, hoping she sees it light up.
Me: I’ll be surprised if you’re reading this. But if you are, don’t make a sound. I’ll be there to get you when it’s clear.
Finch blows past me on his bike, so I don’t have any time to wait on a response. It only takes a few seconds for her to respond, sending a smile to my face.
Harley: K
She trusts me… not that she had much choice tonight. She’s surrounded and I know she can tell her time running has come to an end. I have to give it to her though, not many people have made it three days on the run when this group is looking for them.
We get to her apartment and Finch kicks in the door like a lunatic. I point across the hall when an old man looks out, giving him a glare that tells him to walk the fuck away. He slowly moves back inside and closes the door. Luckily Finch didn’t see him. He’s a hot head and would’ve sent him to his grave for being at the wrong place at the wrong time and he wouldn’t have had a conscience about it in the slightest.
“Quick jacking off and get in here.” I can hear Finch throwing around her furniture; wood breaking as it slams against the wall.
“Jesus. Can you make some more fucking noise? I don’t think the people on the top floor can hear you.”
“I don’t give a fuck if they do hear me. If they know what’s best, they’ll keep their old asses in their apartment and mind their own fuckin’ business.” This is an independent living apartment for senior citizens. I’m not even sure how she lives here, but she does. I’ve been watching her for weeks now.
“Slow the fuck down. It’d be a helluva lot easier to find something if you weren’t tearing shit up.” I try to reason with this idiot, knowing nothing I say will sink into his fat fuckin’ head.
“What is it we’re looking for again?” He beats me to the only bedroom in the apartment. He moves straight for the top drawer of the dresser and grabs a handful of her panties before shoving them in his jacket pocket. I watch him slide his pistol into the drawer before he points the gun directly at me… a lacy string of fabric hanging from the end of it. “I hope we find her. I’m going to tear that shit up before we turn her in. I can still smell her in here.” He inhales the lace before putting it into his other pocket. He’s right though. This room smells like I do. Luckily he’s not smart enough to put it all together. Her perfume still lingers everywhere.
“It’ll probably be in a box or something.” I know she’s smart enough not to have it here… plus I already searched this place from top to bottom a few days ago.
I pull the small trunk from the bottom of her closet and rummage through it, pretending that I’m actually searching for what’s not here. He uses an umbrella to drag the shoe boxes off the top shelf, allowing them to crash to the floor and scatter everywhere. Old pictures fall at his feet, not affecting him whatsoever as he steps all over them to grope her clothes.
I glance at the lid to the trunk, noticing a small cut that wasn’t there the other day. “Check that desk.” I try to keep him focused, so I can see what she’s hidden in here. My finger punctures the felt, making it easy to pull it out of my way, uncovering a wad of cash and a memory stick. I dig a little deeper and find a key on a chain. I slide it all into the inside pocket of my jacket, watching over my shoulder as I do.
“Puck’s gonna be livid if we don’t have something to show from this trip.” Finch starts to turn around, so I toss the trunk to the ground, making sure it lands upside down to hide any evidence that I just found something. Leaning over, I flip her mattress up and slide my knife through it ruining her bed as I do. At this point, she won’t be returning to this apartment again, so I may as well act like this fool and thrash her belongings. At least he’ll think I’m in this with him.
“We can’t pull it out of our asses.” I let her bed fall to the ground, crushing the cheap night stand as part of it slams into the wall.
“Where would you hide shit if you lived here?” He starts looking around the room just as the sound of sirens begin to get louder. “Fuck.”
“This is why you don’t go in like a fucking tank, dumbass,” I yell at him as we run down the stairs. We make it to my truck and dive in before the blue lights begin to flash against the apartments. Going to jail is the last fucking thing I need to happen tonight. I close my eyes and silently tell Finch not to blow this and the second the door slams to the apartment building, I start the engine and pull out of the parking spot.
He jumps from the bed of the truck before I take off too fast, landing on his feet close to his bike, following me out of there. It’s a good thing this is a small town and we have the cops in our pockets, but I don’t have the time to deal with the paperwork tonight.
I need to get the fuck out of here. I just have a few more stops before I finally get to leave this shit behind and cash in for this fucking job. I’ll deliver his daughter to him and even give him the evidence he needs to end Puck’s life and take his club. It’s time I get out of this crazy business for a few years. I need to lay low and figure out what I want to do next. I’m almost thirty and I’m tired of working for someone else when I’m the one putting everything on the line to get the work done.
I split from Finch on purpose to keep from gaining any attention from the rest of the cops rolling toward the apartments. The old garage I work at is my hiding spot for my truck tonight. My bike is just inside the door, so I toss my backpack on the seat before I slide out the side door again and walk across the street to the storage building.
I send a text to let her know I’m walking up, but she doesn’t respond. Looking over my shoulder, I slide the door open to the unit she’s supposed to be in and find it completely empty. “Fuck. Goddamn stubborn ass woman.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement through the windshield of one of the parked cars across the street. I don’t have time to chase her ass, so I call her once again. I’m only a few steps away when I hear the ringing behind me. Something’s off.
Drawing my gun, I step backward until I can feel the steel door behind me while I try to make out what’s moving in the distance.
The ringing stops shortly after I end the call, but one quick glance around the side of the building is all it takes to see it. The gravel is messed up and proof that something has been dragged out of here.
I fall back into the shadow beside the building and scope out the junk cars across the street to come up with a plan. I’m so close to getting the fuck out of here, I just need to get the girl and what she’s hiding, then I’m gone.
If I step out into the street here, the light will give anyone within a block full view of me. The other side of the building is surrounded by trees and perfect coverage, so I run toward it using the darkness behind the units to protect me.
From this angle, I can see Grissom, Puck’s right-hand man walking between the garage and my truck. Fuck, this isn’t good. He’s on his phone, but I can’t hear a word he’s saying.
I decide to make this look as believable as possible, but gear up to be on guard and ready for anything as I walk across the street and into the path of Grissom.
“Dirtball is dead. Just found his body behind one of those smashed cars.” That’s what he calls the newest prospect. The poor bastard was cursed with being Grissom’s bitch.
“Shit. Any clue who did it?”
“No, but I’m going to guess the bitch has someone helping her. I’ll fucking skin whoever it is alive and make them beg for me to shoot them. Hell, will be better than what I have planned.” He’s mid-sentence when I see more movement in the junk piles behind him. I force myself not to look in that direction, hoping to fuck it’s her.