“The country.” He stopped scrolling and turned to rest his hand on my shoulder. “That’s why no one could find the little bastard. He was hiding out on the edge of a dinky town called Prospects. It’s east of here, and from what Pierre was able to find out he’s staying in a trailer in the middle of God’s country, where the foothills start.”
“Oh goody, a picnic in the country… minus food,” I grumbled. “You should shoot him for the inconvenience alone of making us drive that far.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” King squeezed my shoulder before he let go.
“Is anyone meeting us there?” Madden leaned up between the seats. I pulled out into the thickening stream of late-afternoon traffic, not willing to put this off longer because goddamn it, I wanted another spanking tonight, and I wanted one that would have me aching for days. I hadn’t decided if simply begging for a beating was the way to go or if I should try to figure out how to piss off Jayce just enough to spank me, but not too much that he’d really be mad. The man had to learn not to tempt me with such things.
“It’s gonna be me, you, River here, and I guess your boyfriends.” King broke into my thoughts, and another wave of guilt slammed me. How could I be lost in my head over Jayce when Jason was still out there? “Dallas is meeting us there too. He wouldn’t let me go without decent backup.”
I let out a long breath. “That’s not a bad lineup of help.”
“No, it’s not.” He pulled his sunglasses back out of his pocket and put them on as we fought our way out of the city and onto the highway headed east. “I was going to ask Scar to come, but he’s worried about traveling with guns. I tried to tell the fucking idiot he was more likely to get picked up with a gun in the city, but once he gets something into his head it’s no use.” King’s mouth twisted to the side. “Undertaker has a viewing today, too, or he would have been there with Lee. He wouldn’t let me take Lee without him.”
“It’s fine,” I said, before he could start bitching about people having obligations other than the club. That was a subject he could rant on for days even though he knew everyone had to keep up appearances. “Jason ran the last time. I bet he’ll try to ooze right out of there like the slime he is. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person to actually fight when confronted with six grown men, especially if several of them are armed. He prefers his targets incapacitated,” I muttered darkly. Seb’s face swam in my mind. This fucker had hurt too many people to get away with this, and I hoped Jayce had received enough evidence that he could put Jason away for a while. If nothing else, maybe I would go talk to Seb on my own and try to get him to testify against him.
King smacked my shoulder as I put the pedal down to the floor and went around a minivan driven by a puttering mom with a Karen bob and a passel of kids tossing shit around in the back. “It’s not going to be the same this time.” He leaned close to murmur, “You’re not with the cops. He’s not getting away.”
“I’m not worried about it.” Sweat was gathering between my shoulder blades in an uncomfortable way, though, and as much as I wanted the lies I told myself to be true, I was really happy when Madden got off the phone and chirped, “Evan said he’d get Jayce and meet us there. Can you send me the address and I’ll text both of them?”
He and King bullshitted about how much work it would be to open a gun shop somewhere in New Gothenburg in between King giving me reminders of the directions, which was mostly him telling me to take an exit about three seconds before it was impossible. I came off the exit ramp onto a two-lane highway with fields full of clover spanning away on either side. I pointed the car east and tuned out for a little bit.
We passed along typical country roads full of picturesque barns, and Madden yelled “Cow!” and pointed when we passed a dairy farm. King laughed, and I only shook my head. Not long after, we had another round of pointing from the back seat, this time for “Horses!” King dragged a gun out of a shoulder holster he had under his leather jacket.
“That’s new.” I eyed him up as much as I could while still keeping one eye on the road. “Don’t you usually just shove it down your pants and pray for your balls?”
“Yeah.” He took off his sunglasses and tossed them on my dash so I could get the full effect of an eye roll that would have looked more at home on his brother, Grant. I ended up smiling at him and feeling a little better.
“What brought on this sudden change? I’ve known you for years, and you’ve never had a holster.”
He shook his head and scowled out the windshield. “Dallas hates me shoving the gun behind my belt. I told him I’ve been doing that forever and have, as yet, to shoot off anything he likes to suck, but he insisted.” He shrugged and looked away, but I didn’t miss his smile. “Dallas cares, I guess. And it’s not uncomfortable the way I thought it would be.”
Madden snickered in the back.
“Quiet in the cheap seats,” I whispered, and King swung around to glare, but not too badly. He ruffled Madden’s hair and threw himself back into his seat just as I came upon a small dirt road. I slowed.
“This it?”
“Yeah. Shawnee Road. That’s what Pierre said. This is right where he said he would be.”
“How did he find out?” Madden asked, leaning forward to squint along with me toward a dark-windowed trailer set back far from the road in the distance. It was a sad gray metal box that resembled a travel trailer more than a home.
I drove past a mailbox at the end of the turn-in that was slanted so crooked I was surprised he could even get anything delivered. Of course, I might have been assuming too much by thinking this was Jason’s legal address. Everyone held on as the Maserati bumped over a hole in the dirt road that had the underside scraping and me wincing.
“Fuck.”
King laughed. “Serves you right for bringing your car.”
“I brought it because you said to!”
He snorted and then laughed as we closed in on the small rise the trailer sat on surrounded by knee-high waving goldenrod. I would have thought the dump was an abandoned hunting camp if not for the fact there was a reasonably well-kept 2000s-era Buick in front.
“Shit. We probably should have parked back by the road and waited for the others,” King said, but it was too late. I pulled in next to the car.
“Fuck it, let’s go,” King snarled and got out, leaving the door hanging open in his rush to the trailer.
Madden and I shared a look.
“Come on.” I unbuckled and popped open my door. “King won’t let us get hurt.”
