“He’s fucking fast,” Onyx mutters. “Too fast.”
Jinx kneels above us on the grass. “You want to track him?”
“Not after trading gunshot fire with him. My best guess is that the cops will be sniffing around pretty soon, trying to figure out what happened. He gave us the slip. This dude knows how to disappear.”
Jinx swears again in a gravelly voice. “Guy’s a fuckin’ ghost.”
“No,” I say, climbing back onto the grass. “He’s human. And he’ll eventually make a mistake. And when he does, his ass is mine.”
We quickly clear the community center one more time, just to be sure he isn’t taking refuge there and then hightail it outta there. I hate coming up empty-handed. Christina’s ex is turning out to be a clever pain in our collective asses.
As we prepare to leave, Onyx walks with me to my bike. “I’ve been turning this situation over in my mind. Do you think Rivera was bait?”
That idea has already entered my head. I nod grimily. “I can’t figure out why the stalker just dumped him after a few days and was courteous enough to let him keep his cell phone. Does that make any sense to you?”
Onyx is rubbing his beard as he thinks it over. It wouldn’t be the first time someone secretly placed a tracking app on a phone.”
“Then he might know we’re from Sons of Rage.”
“We have too many affiliate clubs for him to find us without putting in some time and effort.”
I meet his eyes. “He won’t find Christina or Katie because no one in any of our affiliate clubs would give out information on an old lady, especially not on a club officer.”
Onyx insists, “He’s already proven he’s resourceful. So, I’m going to take extra precautions to make sure everyone knows to alert us if anyone starts sniffing around, asking questions.”
***
We arrive back to the motel feeling some kind of way about not capturing our man. Rivera’s sitting outside when we pull in, bruised and pale but stubborn. “Did you find him?”
“He slipped the net.”
“That figures,” Rivera mutters. “That guy creeps around like a fuckin’ ghost. I didn’t even hear him coming when he grabbed me.”
“You’re coming back with us,” I tell him.
He frowns. “Are you sure? I’ll probably be a burden at first.”
“You know our mantra. We leave no man behind. You’re part of my crew now, whether you realize it or not.”
He looks up at me, half-smiling through the pain. “You mean that prospect thing?”
“Yeah. You got the stomach for it?”
“I’ve had worse jobs.”
We load up the truck, and Rivera stretches in the passenger seat, holding his ribs. Onyx drives, and the rest of us rideshotgun. I take the lead position and navigate our little convoy back to the clubhouse.
I’m pissed that the asshole gave us the slip and can’t stop turning the situation over in my mind all the way home. Not even riding the open road soothes my soul tonight, because the danger is still out there. After seeing what he did to Rivera, I don’t even want to think about what he could do if he ever caught up with Christina.
The more I think about it, the more something nags at the back of my mind. That bastard let Rivera go, even though my friend could identify him. That seems pretty damn strange to me. Normally, bad guys tie up loose ends. They don’t dump them off along the side of the road and let them live.
We stop once for gas just outside of town. Onyx fills the truck while the rest of us take turns filling up our bikes. When I’m finished, I keep a lookout for trouble. Nothing arouses my suspicions.
Rivera cracks the window and calls out, “You worry too much.”
Walking over to his side of the vehicle, I give him a swift jerk of my chin. “We’ve been through enough danger to know that shit can pop off at any minute. I don’t want to be standin’ around starin’ at my belly button when shit goes sideways.”
He grins weakly. “Yeah, I get that. The price of peace is eternal vigilance, right?”
