Chapter 28
Rebel
Son of a bitch!
Daryl wasn't at his uncle's garage, and there was no uncle there, either. The only worker in the tiny, run-down garage was a bony old coot who was missing half of his teeth, wearing faded, greasy overalls and a t-shirt that might have been white at one time. Ace and I found him bent over the engine of an old station wagon, a long, thin braid running down his back, and a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. He must have been half-deaf, because he didn't acknowledge the sound of our bikes or realize that we were approaching until we were upon him. Ace flanked one side, while I flanked the other. I put my hand on the old man's shoulder to get his attention.
"Hey, old man."
He jumped back with a grunt, losing the cigarette. "What the fuck?! You trying to give an old man a heart attack?" he snarled, bending to pick up his still burning smoke. "What do you want?"
The first thing I noticed was the shiner he was sporting. His tone wasn't too friendly either, and I had a feeling that we weren't going to get much out of him.
"Some information," Ace answered.
The old man jumped, swinging around. "Christ. How many of you are there?"
"Just the two of us. We're friends, looking for Daryl." An immediate frown creased his brow. "You seen him?"
I didn't expect to get an honest answer out of him, but he surprised me by admitting, "Yeah, earlier. He ain't here now."
"You the only one working?"
He looked back at Ace. "Yeah. So? I been working at this garage since it opened forty years ago. I know what I'm doing."
I grinned. "Calm down, old man, we don't mean any disrespect." I gauged his age to be around seventy. "Do you know where Daryl went? We were supposed to meet him."
He narrowed his grey eyes and stared at me long and hard. He was making up his mind as to whether or not we could be trusted. If he'd worked that long for Daryl's uncle, he owed loyalty to the family at the very least.
"Nope. Left here ‘bout an hour ago, right before the other two bikers showed up."
That interested me. I doubted that it was anyone from the Sentinels since Ace was with me. I took a chance. "The Kings?"
"Yeah, that was them," he confirmed. "Two ugly motherfuckers." He paused. "Out for trouble, just like you two." He puffed on his cigarette until it was down to the filter. I had to give the old man credit, he wasn't afraid to say what he felt. "I gave them the same thing I'm giving you--nothin'."
Well, that explained his black eye. The Kings obviously hadn't taken his age into consideration when they'd questioned him. I wondered how Daryl had known that they were coming, unless his absence was pure coincidence.
"You two gonna blacken my other eye?" There was a challenge in his cigarette-roughened voice.
Ace snorted and turned toward our bikes, clearly making the call that we weren't going to get anything useful from the old man. I decided to give it one last shot. "Have any idea when Daryl will be back?"
"Nope." He dropped his butt and ground it beneath his shoes. Buying time, I thought. "If you and Daryl are such good friends, why don't you call him?"
I grinned, deciding that Ace was right. "I just might do that," I replied, turning away.
Ace was sitting on his bike, smoking a cigarette. "What now? Back to Jack’s?"
I nodded. "Yeah. The fucker gave us the uncle. I'd let him piss on my boots again for another lead." We both grinned. "And I doubt Daryl will be back here, now that he knows the Kings have found him." I ran my hands through my hair, releasing a frustrated breath. "Fuck, man, I just want to find the asshole and end him."
"I know where you're coming from," Ace said, but he didn't elaborate. He tossed his cigarette, and we started our bikes and tore out of the gravel drive back onto A1A.
It took us twenty minutes to get back to where Jack lived. As we drove toward the back of the complex where his apartment was located, I noticed that his Camaro wasn't where it had been when we'd come earlier. Shit! Ace pulled up next to me and we exchanged a look.
"You think he ran?"
I searched the area around us, until my eyes lit on what I'd been looking for. A faded Chevy s10, blue, with gray primer on the passenger side door, Ginger had said. "Son of a bitch!" I swore, looking back at Ace. "He's with Daryl." I nodded in the direction of the truck. "That's his vehicle."
"Fuck, now he knows we're looking for him, too."
"Apparently Jack didn't take my threats seriously." I curled my fists angrily. I'd already pegged Jack as a weak pussy. It probably hadn't taken much for Daryl to convince him to do what he'd wanted.
"Maybe you've lost your touch, brother." I shot Ace the bird. He snorted. "We staying here or we going to go looking for them?"
"We go looking."
Suddenly he reached for his phone. Ace didn't say much, but I watched his reaction. It looked hopeful. "There's been an accident. Looks like we're going to Tomoka Farms Rd."
****
Ginger
"That was good."
Stevie nodded in agreement. "Not bad for hospital food."
We'd both had the cob salad and iced tea. I scooted my chair back and stood up. "I think I'll get a sandwich for Skipper, but first I need to use the ladies’ room. I'll be right back."
It was just after one, and the cafeteria was full of hospital staff and visitors. I even saw a patient or two come in, but most of them got something and left right away. I guessed that they didn't want to get caught sneaking out of their rooms for better food, or perhaps food that they weren't supposed to have. There were several food stations, each offering something different. The line in front of the pasta station revealed that it was the most popular item, the sushi bar not so much. To save time, Stevie and I had grabbed pre-made salads. As I walked toward the restroom, my gaze caught on the pudding selections where the pre-packaged food was. I hadn't had pudding in years, and I thought that maybe I would pick one up on my way back.
Seeing the sign for the ladies’ room, I headed in that direction. I was just about to push the door in when the men's room door opened and a man walked out. Our gazes met, and I returned his friendly smile, noticing the tattoo peeking out from his collar. He was tall, thin, and bald, wearing blue scrubs that identified him as hospital staff. Our interaction was so fleeting that it barely registered, but as I stepped inside the ladies’ room I realized that there had been something vaguely familiar about him. I racked my brain as I took care of business, trying to figure out what it was about him before I ultimately chalked it up to someone I'd run into at some time or another in the hallway, or even the elevator.
I washed my hands and opened the door, coming to an abrupt halt, surprised that the man was still there, pacing back and forth and looking slightly agitated. He stopped when he noticed me standing there.
"Are you Ginger?" he rushed out in a tone that revealed that something was very wrong.
"Yes," I nodded, concern knitting my brow.
"Come with me!" Before I knew what was happening, he had grabbed me by the arm and was leading me away. "I didn't just want to go into the restroom and assume you were alone," he went on in a slightly panicked voice. "I was on my way back to my table when a woman rushed over to me to say that there's been an accident."
My heart rate picked up. "An accident?" Oh my God, had Della fallen out of the bed or something? I began to pick up my pace in order to keep up with him.
He was nodding as we walked. "Yes! She said you were having lunch together and that you'd gone to the restroom. She begged me to get you and bring you along."
We were suddenly rushing toward the exit door, leaving behind a wake of slightly surprised observers. "Wait a minute, why are we leaving the hospital?" Something wasn't right. I was suddenly panicking myself. Was this not about Della?
"She said she'd bring the car up to the curb," he explained, not slowing down.
Right before we got close enough to set off the automatic door opener I pulled back from the hand that was grasping my arm and stopped, forcing him to do the same. "Who had an accident?" I demanded to know, meeting the slight wildness in his eyes.
He shook his head. "I don't know, I think she said someone named Rebel? He crashed his bike." He was questioning his memory. "Come on, she'll be here any second!"
Rebel! No! Suddenly I was rushing in front of the man to get to the curb. My heart was pounding, and a sick feeling began to curl the contents of my lunch. The image of Rebel, lying on the road next to his mangled bike, bleeding and broken, or worse, overwhelmed me. My eyes stung with tears, but I held them back. I reached the curb, but there was no car, and no sign of Stevie. The only vehicle at the curb was a rusty, old white van. I didn't think anything of it, deciding that Stevie just hadn't driven around yet.
Then I felt the man's hand grasp my arm again, this time in a painful squeeze. At the same time he brought his body up against mine and grated into my ear, "Remember me? Rocky?" He was forcing me toward the van as he spoke. I was too shocked to do anything, my mind trying to work out what was happening. "No, you wouldn't," he continued to grate, giving my ear a painful nip. I cried out, and he gave an evil laugh. "I didn't get to have a taste of you back then. No, only that fucking traitor Rebel got between your legs."
Ohmygod! I knew that he was referring to the time that I'd been a captive with the Red Devils, but I'd thought they were all dead!
"Back then I was the Sergeant at Arms. Everyone thought I was dead, but we weren't all there the day of the shootout." Another evil laugh. "Three of us weren't there that day, and we've been waiting four years for revenge."
Oh, God!
The side door of the van slid open, revealing another man in biker clothes. I glanced back at the hospital, to the windows where I knew the cafeteria was located. Stevie and I had had a table by the window. I could see her still sitting there, waiting for me to return. I dug my heels in, trying to stop the man's progress, but he only applied more pressure around my arm, using his body to force me where he wanted me to go.
And then Stevie glanced over, and I knew that no matter what happened after that, at least she was aware of what was happening to me. I watched the fear spread across her face as she realized what she was seeing. That's all I had time to notice before I was suddenly thrown forward.
"No!" I cried out. The biker inside the van reached for me and yanked me inside roughly. I swung around to scramble out, but it was useless, the door slid closed, stopping me. Then the man who'd grabbed me outside of the restroom jumped into the passenger side and slammed the door closed.
He looked back at me with a sneer. "Gonna be fucking sweet watching Rebel's face when we pull a train on you, right before we put a bullet in his head."
I felt sick inside. The van squealed away from the curb with a jerk that sent me crashing against the side. Laughter echoed around me, and I remained where I'd fallen, pulling my knees up and wrapping my arms around them. It wouldn't do me any good to try to fight them, and I refused to show them how terrified I was. It dawned on me that Rebel's accident had been a ruse to get me outside, but I didn’t know if they already had him somewhere.
At least Stevie had seen me being taken away.
I was at least thankful for that.