“What you got?” his gruff voice reverberated in my ear.
“Dead end. Kid hasn’t seen her in weeks. Sounds like the last time they were together, she stole a bunch of his drugs. Probably where she got the GHB. Anything else you want us to do with him?” I asked, rubbing the back of my neck, frustrated at not coming up with anything useful.
“Sounds like you got what you could out of him. Make sure Keys has his info so we can watch him later. Head back to the clubhouse so we can regroup. We just left the Godmother, and Trish wasn’t there. Burnt her bridges when she stole money from her store. We should be back in a couple hours.” I grunted in affirmation, unsurprised to hear that she had only left destruction in her wake.
We gave Toad a stern warning to call us if Trish showed up or contacted him at all, then, the three of us got on our bikes andheaded back towards home. Once we got closer to the clubhouse, we pulled over in town at a local diner I knew Fee liked. Getting off my bike, I checked my phone, and was surprised that Fiona hadn’t answered me.
A weird feeling was growing inside of me. It was a little before 1 p.m.—almost two hours since I sent my text. Fee wasn’t big on texting, and unlike Charlie, she wasn’t constantly glued to her phone. But she always took the time to reply to me, or at least send a thumbs up emoji. Without letting myself think too much about it, I dialed her number, holding the phone to my ear. My pulse increased as each ring passed without the sound of Fiona’s voice cutting through. The robotic answering machine came on, and I left a brief voicemail.
“Fee, baby, it’s me. What are you up to? Give me a call or text so I know where you are. Love you.”
Frowning, I sent Charlie a quick text.
Bash: Are you with Fee?
Charlie: No, I’m at Mom’s. Thought Fiona was at the clubhouse?
I rubbed a fist over my chest, no longer able to rein in the anxiety bubbling within me.
Dialing Keys, he picked up after two rings.
“Bash. Still waiting to hear back from the other teams, but we—”
“Is Fiona at the clubhouse?” I cut in.
“I’m not sure. I haven’t really left my room. Why, what’s up?”
“She’s not answering her phone, and she’s not with Charlie. I left her at the clubhouse. Can you search for her while we head back?”
“On it. I’ll have Fiona call you as soon as I find her.” Bull and Guard were hovering near the entrance to the diner, waitingfor me, but both turned when I whistled. Without a word, they walked over to where I was standing by my bike.
“Need to get back to the clubhouse. Fiona isn’t answering her phone.” The two men didn’t hesitate to head to their respective bikes. Soon, we were on the road back to the clubhouse, where I hoped to hell I would find Fiona fast asleep in the room I had left her in.
A million thoughts ran through my head on the ride back to the clubhouse. I was waiting for a call to come through, the Bluetooth in my helmet on max volume. When I heard the ringing reverberating through my helmet, I picked up the call quickly, desperate to hear Fee’s voice. Instead, it was Keys on the other end.
“I checked your room. Her cell phone and purse were still in there. Grabbed some people, searched everywhere she has access to, but we haven’t found her. ”
“Check the cameras. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” I sped up, panicked.Why would she leave without taking her phone? Where could she have gone?
When we pulled into the clubhouse, the quiet that greeted us was the first sign something was off. Heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs as Keys appeared. He looked like he had aged decades since that morning, and my heart jumped in my throat.
“Where is she? What happened?” The words came out warbled as my lips trembled, my body in shock that I had to ask.
“I’m not sure. Just come see what I’ve got.” Keys looked hesitant— not typical for him.
He was all about data and facts, evidence. Everything that left a trail, he could find. Dad and Bull followed me into Keys’ lair.
“Is Fiona hurt? Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s easier to show you.”
Keys sat down. Swiveling his chair, he moved the mouse, and the screens came to life. Across the monitors, multiple views ofthe clubhouse were displayed. Focusing on the center monitor, he pulled up footage of me leaving the clubhouse that morning. I gripped the back of his chair as I stepped closer, dying for a glimpse of Fiona.
About half an hour after I left, she came out of our room and made herself breakfast in the kitchen. For a brief moment, I felt relief, seeing her safe and in the clubhouse. Hopping to different angles, we followed Fiona as she carried her meal back upstairs. She seemed to slow down and stop outside one of the rooms when the door swung open. Crow, his face visibly enraged, yanked Fiona into his room, shutting the door behind her.Fast-forwarding the footage, it appeared over twenty minutes passed until the door opened again.
Horrible thoughts of what could have occurred in that time ran through me, but I stopped short at the sight of Crow exiting his room with a blonde woman who was clearly unconscious, her feet unmoving as he pulled her down the hallway. Despite the odd outfit and blonde hair, the girl looked familiar.Is that Fiona? What did he do to her?
Her head rolled back and my blood ran cold as my suspicions were confirmed. Fiona’s profile, so familiar to me, was captured clearly in that shot. Different growls and murmurs echoed in the room as Crow pushed her face against his chest, using the wig to hide her distinct features. Helplessly, we watched as he disappeared into the garage.
