“Josh…” I hear him hiss, and I know he’s hurt.
“Tell me where you are.”
“He…”
I hear a commotion in the background, along with yelling. “You’re in my house, boy. You’ll abide by my fucking rules.” The sound of flesh hitting flesh and Theo crying out makes me scramble off the bed as the phone goes dead in my hand.
I grab my bag and the keys to the truck that came with the shop and pray it turns over. Then I pray I don’t have a seizure and hurt either myself or someone else because I’m not supposed to be driving. But I can’t leave Theo to fend for himself.Though I plan on calling for backup, I’m closer to Theo than anyone at the clubhouse will be.
I say a silent thank you when the truck starts and reverses out of the lot, heading to where his mother and stepfather live. If he hadn’t pointed it out to me one day in passing, I’d have been flying blind.
I call Kruger first, but his phone rings out. He must still be in his meeting because he wouldn’t ignore my call otherwise. He had to get permission to miss church because of it.
“Church,” I hiss, before I dial Circus, already expecting what’s going to happen.
Nothing. He doesn’t pick up, neither does Capone or Probe. By the time I get to Havoc, I leave a nasty voicemail before I throw my phone on the passenger seat and focus on driving. Why the hell do they have to have their phones on silent? Do they think life stops outside the second they close the door to their meeting? Idiots.
I pull over at the end of the road, hiding the truck in the trees before I rummage in the back for something I can use as a weapon. I find a tire iron and grip it tightly as I check my phone one last time to see if anyone has called me back. I curse when I see they haven’t.
“I could set the damn place on fire and they’d be none the wiser while their prospects burned to death,” I snarl before freezing.
“Prospects. Delphi, you idiot.”
I dial Con and wait. “Please pick up, please pick up.”
“Hey Delphi, is everything okay?”
“Oh, thank god. Theo’s in trouble and I can’t get hold of anyone. He’s at his mom’s house. Please hurry.” I hang up and text the address, in case he doesn’t know where it is, before shoving my phone into my jeans pocket.
I look down at what I’m wearing: sling-back shoes with fitted jeans, a silk tank top, and a charcoal blazer. I smooth my hair back to make sure it’s neat, and brace my shoulders. I slip the tire iron inside the inner blazer pocket and hurry to the last trailer at the end of the lot.
There are six in total, widely spaced apart. Most people would assume that’s why nobody ever hears anything when the cops turn up asking if they listened to their neighbors fighting or if they saw a break-in. The truth is, nobody sees or hears anything, even if it’s right in front of their face. Places like this are all about survival, and people who talk to cops don’t last long.
The trailer is quiet when I approach, but I’m not fooled. I take a steadying breath and knock on the door. When nobody answers, I knock harder and keep knocking until the door is swung open. An overweight guy not much taller than me answers the door with a belligerent look on his face. He’s wearing dirty jeans and has on a stained gray wife-beater that might have once been white. A cigarette dangles from his lip as his eyes rove over me and take me in.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m with CPS. I’m going to need you to take a step back while I investigate a complaint.”
“Fuck you, bitch.”
“Don’t make this any harder on yourself. Cops are already on their way.”
Despite his anger, he takes a couple of steps back from me. “Waste of fucking time. There are no kids here.”
“Your stepson Theo?—”
“Ran away and got hooked up with those biker pussies,” he spits.
“Then you won’t mind me looking around, will you?”
He growls as I step closer, lifting his arm to stop me from progressing any farther. “ID,” he bristles, as a low moan comes from the hallway. He tenses and poises himself, ready to strike.
I grin. “No problem.” I reach inside my blazer pocket as I kick the door closed behind me. I pull the tire iron free and swing it at his head.
Not expecting me to attack, he goes to his knees. I hit him again. Once I start, I can’t stop. It’s as if all the built-up pain over learning the truth from Blade has found an outlet.
I hit him over and over until I’m out of breath and my arms are shaking from the exertion.
