Chapter Nineteen
The warmth and scent of her gone, he cracked his eyes open and sat up on the inflatable mattress, wide awake.
Any minute she’d walk out of the bathroom. He waited until he lost patience. Annoyed, he groaned his frustration hoping to God she heard him and came before he dragged himself out of bed.
When she didn’t, that mild irritation turned to annoyance. He hated waking without her. He had the best day of his life yesterday, and he wanted that amazing day followed by one where he woke beside his wife.
Placing his feet on the floor, he stood and drew a hand through his face then searched the floor for his jeans. He found them near the door, his shirt missing since she’d worn it to bed. Pulling his jeans on, his gaze on her clothes beside his, he strode toward the bathroom, smiling with the thought when he found her he’d get to rant and rave, and she’d give him lip.
Finding the bathroom empty, he walked out of their bedroom and down the hall. “Em?” In the living room, he called, “Em?” When she didn’t answer a second time, he felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach.
He swallowed then searched the house, front to back, back to front. Everything was as they left it, not that there was much. The place was empty except for his keys, cell, and wallet on the breakfast bar, the couch in the den, and the inflatable mattress in the master bedroom, yet Em was nowhere, her cell gone too.
That sinking sensation deepened like he’d been dropped into the ocean with a ton of bricks tied to him, what people felt when they realized they were about to die, and there was nothing they could do to stop it. Most people never felt it because most people didn’t know when they’d die, and yet in one lifetime, he’d felt it twice. The first time—when she left.
Had she left him? Again?
A memory flashed before his eyes. Em saying her vows, her voice shaking as tears trekked down her face. He remembered something else—how tight she held him last night, how just before she drifted off she whispered, “Always loved you, Bryce. Always will.”
She hadn’t left. She wouldn’t take Bree from him because she loved him, had always loved him, and now, she knew he felt the same. Before he knew what he meant to do, he pressed his phone to his ear. He didn’t realize what number he’d dialed until he heard Trig’s voice.
“Rip, don’t tell me you’re coming this early. They didn’t get to bed ’till midnight.”
“Bree,” his voice came out hoarse.
“Sleep—”
“Check. Now.”
Silence. Then he heard movement. A moment later, “She’s sleeping, Rip.”
“She’s there?”
“Just checked on them. Bree and Della, they’re still sleeping. I just told you they didn’t get to bed ’till midnight.”
“She’s there,” he repeated.
“Yeah.” A pause. “What’s going on?”
If he hadn’t known Em hadn’t left, there was proof now. Meaning Em was taken from their home wearing just his tee while he slept. He knew who took her, and he knew why. His brothers wouldn’t help him. He knew who would, but he had to act fast. If they hadn’t killed her yet, they wouldn’t wait much longer. He didn’t let himself think about anything else.
“Get them to the compound. Don’t let them go outside,” he ordered.
“Why? What the fuck’s going on?”
“Don’t got time for this, Trig. Get your gun. Get Bree, Della, and Allie and take them to the compound.”
He hung up, tugged on his boots and his cut, grabbed his keys, phone, wallet, and headed for the door. There, he turned the knob. Unlocked. No doubt he’d locked it meaning Em had unlocked it, and there was only one reason she would.
Locking the door behind him, he ran to his bike, hopped on, and hauled ass to the compound. Once there, he dug his cell out of his pocket and dialed. He did this while he sprinted toward his room.
“Rip?” Chip sounded like he’d just woken.
“They got Em.”
“Fuck.”
One word so filled with emotion cut through Rip. No one else in the world except for Bree and him would feel it like Chip. This, he knew.
“How? Never mind, it’s not fuckin’ important. Where are you?”
“Just got to the compound.”
“Meet you there.”
He shook his head. “Naw, I’m alone on this. I’ll go to you.”
“Brothers don’t go at it alone.”
Rip reached his room, then his closet, opened his safe, grabbed both his guns, loaded them, and tucked them in his waistband. “This one does.”
“’Cause of circumstances, we’re somewhere new.” Chip gave him the address, promised to text it as well then added, “Don’t need to tell you we don’t got much time.”
“No, you don’t. I’ll be there as fast as I can ride.”
He hung up and grabbed a black tee. Heading out of his room and down the hall, he took off his cut, donned the tee then pulled his cut over it. On his way, he ran into Trig, Allie, Della, and Bree. A look at his baby girl, a rush of raw emotion choked him.
Since realizing Em had been taken, he hadn’t let himself think she could already be dead. He wanted her alive. It was selfish. A gang like the Falcons didn’t have limits on how far they’d go, and there were things far worse than death. Being tortured, beaten, and raped so savagely she’d beg for death. He hadn’t let himself think on that either. But now, for the first time, staring at Bree, he failed. He couldn’t help but go there, images of Em dead, beaten, tortured, raped seared his mind.
Bree smiled and ran to him, wrapping her arms tight around him. He returned the hug. He wasn’t a man of faith, never had been because his life had been fucked, but right then, he prayed he’d bring his little girl’s mom home in one piece and alive.
Leaning down, he kissed her forehead. “Gonna be gone for a little. You be good with your Aunt Allie and your Uncle Trig.”
“Where’s Mommy?”
There it was. And he didn’t have a clue what to say. “I’m gonna get her.”
The truth. Dead or alive, he’d find Em, and he’d bring her home. He shouldn’t’ve said even what he had to Bree. She was too young to understand, to be worrying.
How would he ever raise her on his own? No, he couldn’t think like that. He needed Em. Bree needed her too, so he’d bring Bree her mom. He’d bring back his wife.
Her eyes rounded. He didn’t give her time to think, to respond. “You stay indoors. I’ll be back with your mom before you know it, yeah?”
Maybe she sensed she shouldn’t ask. Maybe she knew he’d lose it because he saw the concern in her eyes, but she just nodded and gave him another hug. “I love you, Daddy.”
He threaded his fingers through her hair. “Love you too, baby.”
He wanted to run but didn’t want to worry Bree more, so he walked away quickly. The whole time, he fought looking back.
“Rip? You gonna fuckin’ answer me?”
He turned and met Trig’s stare. “Don’t got time.” Then his gaze flicked behind Trig.
Strike and Prez, both looking like they’d just rolled out of bed. He turned and made it halfway then felt the heat of a hand grasping his shoulder and yanking him back around.
“Where’s Em?” Prez asked, eyes narrowed, voice firm.
“Already said I don’t got fuckin’ time.”
Strike dragged a hand through his hair. “Fuck, they took her.”
His stare went to Strike then met Trig’s and Prez’s. He didn’t say anything, couldn’t force himself to say it.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“Call the brothers,” Prez ordered.
“Half of them are hung over.”
They would be. Friday nights most of them got wasted at the compound.
“Don’t give a fuck. Call them.”
Ripper didn’t get through processing that when he heard Bud.
“What the fuck for? We all know what happened here. She left. Ain’t no surprise.”
Ripper spun and shot daggers at Bud. Next thing he knew, he was on the floor, straddling Bud, slamming his fists into his face. He got in a few good punches before two brothers grabbed him and hauled him off.
“We aren’t helping her this way, Rip,” Strike said, standing to his right, holding him back.
He stopped fighting but continued to glare at Bud.
Trig, standing at his other side, hand gripping his bicep, pointed out, “She didn’t leave him ’cause Bree’s here. She’d left, she would’ve taken her daughter.”
He snatched his arms out of Trig and Strike’s grasp. “I already said I don’t got time for this shit. You guys wanna talk about this, now isn’t the time. Now’s the time for me to ride out.” He managed a step.
Strike grabbed his elbow.
Taking a deep breath, he turned. “Get your fuckin’ hands—”
“This isn’t the time to pick fights with your brothers, either. It’s the time you lean on us.” Strike released him.
They wanted to help now? Now, when there was a chance she was already dead? “Why the fuck now?”
“’Cause now’s the time to act,” Trig added.
Ripper’s gaze cut to Trig’s then he screamed, “Should’ve acted fuckin’ days ago, brother! Not wait ‘till they’ve taken my old lady!”
“They would’ve expected that, Rip. We needed to regroup and come up with a plan,” Strike said.
“While you assholes were regrouping and planning, they took my…” He slammed his palm against his chest. “…wife!”
Prez shook his head. “They’re desperate. No other reason why they acted so soon.”
“They aren’t so desperate anymore, are they? They got my woman.” Rip spoke, anger vibrating through his voice, making his body shake. He needed to breathe, try to relax. He didn’t, he wouldn’t be in the condition to talk much less drive. Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand through his hair.
“Tell us how they took her.”
Now, he had to relive that? He said it fast. “Woke up, she was gone. Door unlocked.”
Strike shook his head. “They must’ve tricked her somehow. Em’s not stupid. She wouldn’t’ve opened the door, not—”
Trig interrupted, “Not unless she thought they had Bree.”
Bud and Prez exchanged a look then Prez asked, “Doug find out anything?”
Doug? His brothers hired the PI?
Trig nodded. “He’s going to call me with an address, where he thinks they’ve been hiding out.”
Some of the tension lining Rip’s shoulders melted in knowing his brothers hadn’t abandoned him. They’d been on his side all along, his and Em’s. Still, he couldn’t breathe right, and he wouldn’t, not until he found Em. “Could’ve told me we were looking into it.”
Strike let out a humorless laugh. “So you could go in there guns blazing? No, Rip, we kinda like you, so we’re trying to keep you alive.”
He swallowed. “What else have you been keeping from me?”
“Doug’s guys have been surveilling this place.”
He quirked a brow. “That it?”
“Yeah, he’s only been on it for a couple of days. We got plenty.”
Maybe, but they didn’t have Em. He peered at Prez and admitted, “I called Chip. I thought I was alone.”
Trick and Rake walked in. Behind them, Army. “They’d give us good numbers.”
Rip’s phone binged. He spared a glance at it and realized it was the address of the location he was supposed to meet Chip.
Blaze rode in and parked his bike inside the garage. “We’re considering teaming up with Chained?”
His brothers kept piling in. All looking like they’d been dragged out of bed, hair a mess, some shirtless. Stone and Hash came next.
Then Mellow, phone to his ear, saying, “Old ladies can watch Cullen, brother. Della and Bree are here too,” which meant he was speaking with Dodge.
“Nothing’s been decided,” Prez answered Blaze’s question.
“Told you I don’t got time for votes and bullshit,” Rip growled.
“It’ll take a minute,” Dash jumped in.
Rip took a series of steps, now face to face. “You realize she could be dead? You realize she could be lying in a ditch in a pool of blood. They could be stabbing the life outta her, or they could be cutting her up, getting ready to dump her in the ocean.”
“Can’t think like that, Rip.” Trig knew what it felt like knowing his old lady was in the hands of an enemy. Not so long ago, his own old lady had been taken.
Solid advice, so Rip knew he should listen, but he didn’t because he couldn’t. The panic and fear searing him was crippling. Standing there talking instead of doing added anger to that deadly mix, making it worse.
“No, you’re right. I should be thinking she’s alive. She’s alive, they could be knocking her around, beating her, raping her. Her! Is that what you want me to think?”
Trig’s jaw went rock hard, but for a moment, he let something slip. A look of utter devastation flashed in his eyes, like in that split second, he’d relived it. “Don’t think on it at all.”
“All in favor of teaming with Chained?” Dash asked.
Aye’s resounded, not one nay.
Prez spoke loud. “Take SUVs. Ride out to Chained.” He looked to Rip. “We got an address?”
Rip had his brothers. The relief palpable, but blanketed by the rest. “Yeah,” he said, giving the address.
Trig looked to him. “You ride with me.”
“I ride my—”
Trig jerked his head. “No, Rip, you won’t. You want to waste more time getting into it about who’s gonna drive? Have at it. I’m still fuckin’ driving.”
He wouldn’t waste more time. He hoped Trig drove fast. Otherwise, they’d be getting into it for another reason.
****
Em wished they’d remove the hood draped over her head. Not being able to see made the fear worse. She wanted to orient herself in some way, stare at the men responsible in the face, play it off like she wasn’t afraid to die.
Then again, maybe it was a good thing she couldn’t see. If she saw them, she could identify them. And if she could, they wouldn’t keep her alive. A long shot, she knew, but still, she couldn’t help but hope. She had too much to live for.
After they took her and dumped her in a trunk, they drove for a while. When they stopped, they yanked her out of the trunk and dragged her indoors. The blast of air conditioning hit her full force, a drastic change from where she’d been. It was freezing, the type of cold that seeped into her bones, yet she didn’t feel it. All she felt—terror. It built while they hauled her farther inside, roughly shoved her into a room, built when she fell face first onto a chilly, hard, tile floor, when they tied her wrists and ankles. It built every second after that too, so now, she could barely breathe. It seemed like it had been hours ago, but it could’ve just been minutes.
Lying on her side on the floor, she remembered what Bryce told her last night. Just after she’d told him she always loved him and always would, he promised her they’d live the rest of their lives together. She remembered it with such clarity, it was like he’d whispered it in her ear then. And as she heard it, she rubbed the ring finger on her left hand. Bare. Unused to it, she took his ring off to sleep and hadn’t put it on that morning. She wished she hadn’t taken it off. If she was going to die, she wanted to die with his ring on her finger.
A foot slid up her thigh, up her backside, lifting her shirt, Bryce’s shirt, over her butt. Gasping, she jumped. Another thing she hadn’t bothered to put on, undies, so whoever lifted her shirt, whoever else was in that room with her, now saw her naked backside.
She should’ve put on her thong, should’ve slipped on her ring. Then again, if she could change anything, she wouldn’t’ve been taken to begin with, especially the way she had.
They claimed they had Bree. Panicked, she had no choice. She should’ve stopped for a second to think about it. While she’d been stuck in the trunk of the car, she overheard the men who’d taken her say their ruse worked, and she heard them laugh about how easy it’d been. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t change anything now.
That foot, pressing down on her right cheek, nudged her hard enough her whole body shifted until she lay on her chest. With her hands tied behind her back, she couldn’t catch herself. Bryce’s shirt at her waist, instinctively, she held her legs together. No clue why she bothered, in a room with at least two others, both men from their deep voices, she was at their mercy. They were going to kill her, they’d take whatever they wanted.
“That’s a nice fuckin’ ass.” The man had squatted beside her, his voice too close. With his rough, calloused palm, he groped her ass.
Heart beating too wildly in her chest, she cringed.
“Don’t like that?” He spanked her, hard.
She jolted and felt the sting long after.
“Bikers share. He wouldn’t mind.”
A door opened.
“Get your fuckin’ hands off her and cover her up.”
She stilled, hearing nothing for several seconds but her pounding heart echoing in her ears.
Movement, then the man who touched and taunted her shouted, “Why the fuck—”
“You remember the plan? We want it to work, she can’t be touched, asshole.”
More shifting. The man had drawn farther away, when he said, “She’ll be alive after I fuck her.”
God. Oh, God. Her breaths grew shallow. Bile rising in the back of her throat, she swallowed.
“Both of you can’t follow orders, so get the fuck out.”
No movement. No voices.
She held her breath, waiting.
“Now!”
She jumped, startled.
Another voice came then, a voice so grim regardless of her situation, hearing it alone would’ve had the skin on the back of her neck prickle.
“What the fuck’s all the screaming about?
“You wanna tell him? Or should I?”
Silence.
“I wanna know what’s going on, and I wanna know now.” That grim voice gave an order she knew they’d follow.
Shifting and shuffling. “You touch her?” That same grim voice lowered an octave. “After I gave my orders?”
A moment later, the voice came again. “Deal with them.” A pause. “You’re on guard. No one touches her.”
“But—”
A sound resonated like someone had been punched. A groan then, “Fuck!”
“I said she can’t be harmed. That means you don’t rape her, you fuckin’ idiot.” A frustrated sigh then, “Get cleaned up. You’re getting blood all over my floor.”
The door closed, but she wasn’t alone. Someone neared. She felt it in her bones. A hand grasped her shirt. She stilled, holding her breath. That man tugged down Bryce’s shirt, covering her bare ass.
Although those men were all responsible for taking her from Bryce and Bree, she whispered, “Thank you.”
“I follow orders. Boss orders me to kill you. I’ll kill you, so don’t thank me.”
A tear slipped out of her right eye, all she allowed herself. She couldn’t give them anymore, couldn’t lose herself in tears. She had to fight, had to find a way to escape. They were keeping her alive and unharmed. Chances were they needed her as leverage. Whatever the reason, she had some time.