“What the hell?” Spawn said.
“They’ve got Callie,” I said. “They’ve known where we were the whole fucking time. The whole fucking time! They probably know of our old place now.”
“So now what?” Sonny said, concern etched into his face.
I had to focus on my breathing just to not fucking burst a blood vessel. If they so much as laid a hand on Callie…if they did fucking anything to her…murder and torture weren’t kind enough outcomes for those motherfuckers.
“We go and rescue her,” I said. “And in return, I do anything you want. You want me to become a Black Reaper? A Devil’s Patriot? It’s done. But we need to rescue my wife.”
Sonny and Spawn exchanged a look. They looked over the warehouse. They knew.
“Let’s fucking go,” Spawn said.
It just better not fucking be too late.
Callie
Owen, wisely, never said a word to me as I got in the car, peeled out of our old lot, and headed back down to Phoenix.
He seemed like a nice enough guy, at least as far as bikers went. He didn’t try and insist on doing things Ash’s way, and he didn’t demand that I drive a certain speed limit. But there was no confusing whose side he was on
It was a gift that he drove by me and not rode with me as well. The last thing I wanted was conversation. The only thing I needed was empty space to think.
But other than that, there wasn’t much to be happy or grateful about right now.
How could Ash just toss me aside the way he did? How could things have just fallen apart so damn quickly? One minute, I was waking up from what felt like the greatest night of my life, and the next, I was experiencing the worst morning of my life. The only reason I wasn’t sure of that was because the worst day of my life had been when I’d gotten his letter telling me to declare him dead.
But this was right up there.
To be so close, to have a taste of what once was, and then to have it thrown out, tossed aside as if completely meaningless…what a fucking waste. How awful. How depressingly sad.
When I got on the road, with Owen trailing me, I was too sad and in too many tears to make sense of anything. Half the time, I swore I’d follow Ash’s advice and truly declare him dead for good. Half the time, I thought about turning the car around and coming back for him.
I wound up not committing to either path, seeing as how committing to decisions seemed to have a terrible, awful way of just blowing up in my face in the worst way possible. Move to Phoenix? Come back to Ash, have him push me away…get blown off after sex…
We stopped after the first hour so Owen could get gas. Seeing as how I had some space in the tank, I decided to fill up as well. Owen gave me a look a couple times but otherwise stared off into the distance. Part of me felt compelled to say something, if nothing else thank him for coming with me. But I didn’t want to be the desperate girl who tried to wrangle other people into her relationship issues and problems.
But then again, when had I done anything normally so far?
“Owen,” I said.
He didn’t look at me at first. He had probably gotten strict instructions to just make sure I got home safe, nothing more, nothing less. Who could blame him with the craziness I was probably perceived as bringing?
“Owen.”
This time, he looked at me, but he kept his arms folded and his gaze distant.
“Were you told anything? From Ash or anyone else?”
Owen said nothing. I grimaced, pursed my lips, and sighed.
“Do you have a family?”
“One I look forward to seeing when we get back,” he said.
“And—”
“I’ve already said too much.”
