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GABRIEL’S BABY: Iron Kings MC by Evelyn Glass (75)


Butch fumed on the taxi ride back to the motel. He hadn’t stopped asking questions in his mind since hearing his bike roar out of the parking lot. Nothing about it made any damned sense. And the taxi taking a goddamned half hour to show up didn’t help matters either.

 

And on top of that, Gidget wouldn’t answer her phone. Not only was he stranded, he’d been kicked out to sea by the very person he’d swore felt any damn thing for him. He cursed under his breath in the back seat of the nineties model taxi. The entire car smelled of fake air fresheners and farts. He leaned as close as he could to the open window without hanging his head outside.

 

When the taxi finally let him off at the motel, he shoved a ten dollar bill at the driver before stumbling toward the door, anxiety tightening around his neck. Why the fuck would she run off with my bike? Already the sight was a bad sign. His bike wasn’t anywhere in this motel parking lot, and he’d sworn that this would be the place she’d come to. Maybe she thought I’d left the store. Maybe she got an emergency call.

 

The wonderings and whatifs didn’t stop. His mind ran in a circle until he felt dizzy, pushing open their door at the motel. It swung open, a dark, still room greeting him.

 

“Gidge?” His voice came out gruff as he stepped inside. The silence felt eerie, like someone might pop out of the corner. Without her here, the room didn’t feel right. He swallowed a knot in his throat, ignoring the upswell of confusion that threatened to topple him.

 

He jammed his hand into his pocket, fumbling to reveal his phone. Goddammit Gidget. Where did you go? He pulled up his recent calls—Gidget’s number had been tried seven times—and dialed her again.

 

From somewhere in the room, a buzzing sounded. He blinked, following the noise. He pulled back the comforter, revealing her silver studded cell phone case. “Fucking hell.” He ended the call and the vibrations stopped. He stared at it for a few moments, the quiet of the dark room consuming him. Where to go now?

 

There was only one other place she’d go, and that was the clubhouse. But why without him? Why without even mentioning it? His gut wrenched again, turning his morning hunger into a violent bout of nausea. The not knowing upset him, but mostly he was upset with himself. For letting a blonde beauty like her get the better of him, bringing him to his knees when she disappeared.

 

You were fine on your own. And then you had to get close to somebody.

 

He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing the shaft of light that entered from the dreary morning outside. Geo would kill him, that was for sure. But that was the least of his worries. Even though protecting Gidget was his mission, somewhere deep inside he knew that she’d made this decision, whatever the fuck it was, for a good reason.

 

And the fact that he trusted that, despite being left in the dust and plagued by thousands of questions every second, upset him even more.

 

Because it meant he’d lost his goddamned mind. He’d officially taken the jump off the deep end, letting himself feel anything for anyone. And for Gidget no less. He knew better than to get implicated with a woman, but especially with the daughter of his club president. Because now, the fear of what Geo would do to him ranked way below his own fear that something should happen to Gidget, simply because he….

 

He swallowed hard, fighting the L word. He didn’t want to even think it. But it was too late. Did he love her? He kicked at the radiator below the main window, pleased by the rattling of the metal. He did it again for good measure. What a fucked-up situation. And where the fuck was Gidget?

 

Butch stilled when he heard the rumble of a motorcycle. Anxiety shot towards excitement. It was her—it had to be. Heart pounding like a rabbit, he peered out the front door, face falling when he spotted what was very much not his bike pulling up to the motel.

 

But it was familiar regardless. He squinted, realizing this was no stranger pulling up in front of his room. The cut bore the familiar sickle and spade of the Carvers logo. He squinted. It was a brother.

 

“Zane.” Butch nodded at him as he slipped his helmet off, hanging it on the handlebar. He and Zane hadn’t talked much at the clubhouse. Seemed like Zane was always giving him the evil eye. Maybe that was just how he looked normally though. Either way, Butch hadn’t cared much to find out.

 

“Butch.” Zane straightened his cut, stepping up onto the sidewalk.

 

“What are you doing here?” Butch leaned against the doorframe, the skin on the back of his neck prickling. The surprise visit felt…off. Why hadn’t Geo or Zebra called first? It was just one more confusion on this shit pile of a morning.

 

“Came for Gidge.” Zane jutted out his chin toward the doorway where Butch stood. “It’s time for her to go home.”

 

Butch eyed him, trepidation making a slow crawl through his shoulders. Now shit was really getting strange. Zane’s tone didn’t leave any room for discussion. “Why didn’t anyone call us?”

 

“Wasn’t how Geo wanted it.” Zane wouldn’t meet his gaze.

 

Butch examined his knuckles, weighing his words. “What the fuck has been going on back there? Nobody would tell us more than a few words at a time.”

 

Zane shrugged. “It’s calming down now. Which is why it’s time for Gidget to come home.”

 

“I can bring her.” Butch crossed his arms, searching out Zane’s gaze even if it physically hurt to do so.

 

“I’ll take her back.” Zane ran his tongue over his teeth.

 

Butch swallowed. “Geo put me in charge of taking care of her. I’ll take her back.” He straightened his back. “No reason for you to have come all the way out here, either.”

 

Zane stepped forward. “Butch, I have orders from Geo to take her back myself. That’s what I’m gonna do.”

 

“Let me talk to him.” He jerked his chin toward Zane. “Go on. Call him.”

 

Zane’s mouth went thin. “I can’t.”

 

“Oh no? Bull shit.”

 

“Geo went dark.” Zane crossed his arms. “He’s underground right now. This was his last order.”

 

Butch studied him, trying to tease out fact from fiction. It was hard, when he and Gidget had been left to their own devices in Shreveport, basically cast aside from the inner workings of the clubhouse. But his gut told him something weird was going on. He didn’t like Zane’s sudden appearance, even if he was a brother. Felt a lot like someone showing up uninvited to a private party with a gun hidden in their back pocket.

 

“How long has he been dark?”

 

Zane let an exasperated sigh. “Butch, I don’t have time for these questions. I need to leave now so we can get back to Sturgis by nightfall. Where’s Gidget?”

 

Butch gritted his teeth. “Not here right now.”

 

“So? Where is she?”

 

Butch turned, walking into the motel room. He flipped a light on, struggling to think of a response that wouldn’t incriminate him or Gidget…but get Zane off his back.

 

“Butch?”

 

He turned, finding Zane standing with palms out at his side in the doorway. “What?”

 

“I said where is she?” Zane stepped inside, his gaze trekking across the room. Butch noticed his gaze got stuck on the single queen bed in the room. Fuck. He’d forgotten about that part. After a month living like this…it just became natural. Zane was such an unwelcome reminder of the outside world, the life he’d left behind.

 

“You two been shacking up?” Zane’s eyes shot up to meet his and Butch scrubbed at his jaw. He was at a loss. Where to even begin?

 

“We’ve been here a month.” Like that was any sort of response. He jerked his gaze down to the floor.

 

“No shit. So where is she? We need to go. Now.”

 

Butch sighed. “She went out for a minute.”

 

Zane lifted a brow. “And why aren’t you with her?”

 

“She wanted her space.” Butch’s heart thudded. “Like I said, we’ve been here a month. She needed it.”

 

“And you just let her wander off on her own while you two are on lockdown?” Zane squinted at him.

 

“You said things were better. Guess she picked a good day to wander off.” Butch sniffed.

 

“Don’t be smart.” Zane eyed him. “Don’t need that attitude. I need Gidget.

 

That tone rubbed him the wrong way. “I’m not being smart,” Butch snarled. “Now you either accept what I’ve got to say or get the fuck out.”

 

Zane balled his fists, staring down Butch from across the room. Testosterone sizzled in the air between them, water on a live wire. So that stink eye he’d gotten from Zane all along really had been directed at him. He could see it now. The way Zane looked at him told him that man had a special distaste for all things Butch.

 

“Don’t tell me how to do my job,” Zane said, his voice measured.

 

“Never told you nothin’,” Butch countered, kicking at the wall, his steel toed boot clunking against the drywall. “Except what I got to offer.”

 

“I think I’ll be staying here then,” Zane said, his eyes growing glassy. “Wait for Gidget to show up so I can take her the fuck away from here.”

 

Again that tone grated on him, made him feel like nails were being dragged down a chalkboard somewhere. Zane couldn’t stay here. No way in hell. Butch needed to find Gidget his own damn self, not cop to this guy who just rolled up on a whim.

 

“You can wait outside.” Butch nodded toward the doorway.

 

“I think I’ll wait in here.” Zane plopped down into the chair by the door.

 

Butch balled his fists, fighting a surge of frustration. “Outside.”

 

The two of them were loose betta fish, itching to establish territory. But Butch wasn’t going to let this slide. Not when his Gidget was on the loose somewhere, and he needed to make the trip back to the clubhouse to find her.

 

It wasn’t about her running into the arms of the clubhouse. Of course she’d be safe there. No, now it was that he needed her to be in his arms first. To get the full story. So they could continue on the same page, knowing she was safe and sound with him.

 

“Butch, I’m not gonna say it again.” Zane leaned forward, reaching behind him. His gun. Butch’s senses drew up tight like a bungee cord and he strode forward, grabbing Zane by the front of his cut. Zane protested but Butch punched him as hard as he could across the face. Zane shouted and swung back, clipping Butch in the side. But it barely registered. Butch’s mind was made up. Butch would be the only one leaving the motel this morning.

 

Butch punched him until his knuckles bled. When Zane went limp, Butch shoved him back into the chair, stepping back to make sure he was really knocked out.

 

Chest heaving, Butch waited a few minutes just to see. And when Zane didn’t make a peep, Butch gathered all his things and Gidget’s for good measure. And then he bolted out the door and hopped on Zane’s motorcycle.

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