I nodded.
“Let’s grab a drink at the clubhouse,” Brock said. “We can afford to relax just a bit. Not too long, though.”
“Got it.”
The three of us headed back to the clubhouse, brushing past some club members working at SMAR. We still kept the business open but suffice to say we had an extra few members around in case the Bandits decided striking at our base was a good idea. When we got to the clubhouse, I popped open my beer first, a Guinness. I grabbed my phone and unlocked it when I noticed something strange.
I had two missed calls from Rachel and a couple of text messages.
That wasn’t good. But then again, maybe she just wanted food or company. I had to figure out a way to get out of this place without drawing suspicion. Last thing I needed—
“That’s odd,” Brock said.
My stomach sank before he said anything else. I had a terrible fucking feeling where this was going, and it wasn’t going to be “maybe she just wanted food.”
“What?” Connor said, concern etched into his voice.
“I have a couple of missed calls from Rachel,” Brock said.
“So do I,” Connor said.
Brock gulped.
“Me too,” I said.
No point in hiding it. No point in hiding anything if Rachel was in danger. Well, maybe some things, but not most things.
“Fuck us,” Brock said. “Mason, you want to go check it out? I’ll come with you.”
“OK,” I said.
I would have much preferred to go solo, but if there was a trap or if something had happened, I definitely couldn’t go at it alone. Much as I would have liked to choke the life out of Eduardo with my own hands, I couldn’t be fucking stupid.
“Connor, stay back in case we need help, but hopefully, she just wants us to go get groceries or some shit.”
“Understood.”
We got all the way to the front door when my phone rang. But it wasn’t the usual dial tone when someone was trying to call me. Confused, I picked up my phone and saw why.
Someone wasn’t trying to call me. Someone was trying to FaceTime me.
And though it wasn’t one I recognized, it was an Albuquerque-based number. And as much as I would have loved to believe that it was robo-callers, such assholes didn’t fucking FaceTime.
“Answer it,” Brock said, but he sounded nervous.
I was fucking nervous, too. I just wasn’t going to say anything and reveal that fact.
There was a couple seconds delay before the camera on the other end appeared. And…
“Rachel!”
She was seated in a chair, wearing jeans and a white tank top. Her head was bowed, and she looked groggy. Conscious for sure, but not at full alertness.
“Rachel!”
“She can’t hear you, you know.”
My entire skin crawled at the sound ofthatfucking voice. I knew exactly who it was. It was fucking Eduardo.
