I can’t quite accept it, not yet. I go back around the house, rechecking every room, as if we could somehow have missed them: my boots thud and creak in the mocking silence. “Fuck!” I yell, slamming my fist down on the kitchen counter. Gage and Cash have been waiting in here patiently, giving me space to accept what was obvious from the moment we entered the house. Eli and Naomi are gone.
“Maybe they just popped out on an errand or to grab something to eat?” Gage hopefully suggests, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet.
“Without their phones?” Cash asks, holding up their phones, which lay abandoned on the kitchen table.
“Naomi wouldn’t have gone anywhere without her phone or bike, not willingly,” I say, grim-faced. A small, scared part of me, the part that is terrified of being abandoned, wonders if they simply upped and left. I could tell that things were a bit strained when we left, and that her brother wasn’t entirely happy with the situation. Maybe in the hours we’ve been gone he persuaded her to leave? But then I remind myself that even if she did leave us, she wouldn’t leave her bike. Naomi loves that old Indian. It’s her prized possession, an extension of her soul. She wouldn’t leave it behind without good reason, unless someone forced her to.
“Ace is right, Naomi would rather lose her right arm than that bike,” Gage reluctantly agrees.
“So where are they? And why would they leave their phones behind?” I say, pacing the room with Naomi’s phone in my hand, trying and failing to unlock it. I resist the urge to throw it on the floor when I’m out of attempts, and it locks me out.
“I don’t know. But, unless they went on foot, someone must have picked them up,” Cash points out, looking outside to where our truck and Naomi’s bike are parked.
Gage lets out a grunt of frustration, slamming Eli’s phone down on the table. Apparently, he’s had no luck getting into that one either. He runs his hands through his hair, in frustration. “They wouldn’t leave without good reason. We told them not to go anywhere.”
Cash paces, stroking his chin while he thinks. “Nothing in the house has been disturbed. There’s no sign of a struggle, which suggests they went willingly. If the Rusted Scythes showed up here with weapons and threatened them, they could have easily barricaded themselves in and put up a fight. So, it’s safe to assume they left willingly.”
“Or someone tricked them,” I suggest.
Gage shakes his head. “They wouldn’t have been foolish enough to let a stranger get close.”
“So it wasn’t a stranger,” I say, realizing the truth of it. “It must have been someone they knew and trusted, at least a little. Someone who convinced them they needed to leave.”
“Who, though? They barely know anyone. Naomi’s never mentioned any friends or family they might go with, and theyknow better than to trust the Rusted Scythes,” Gage says, holding his palms open wide.
“So it has to be someone associated with the club,” Cash says quietly, his words dropping like a stone.
“Shit. He’s right. It’s the only possible explanation, isn’t it?” Gage says disbelievingly, looking at me with hope that I have another reason to offer, one that doesn’t involve someone we know being a traitor.
“Who would do that? Do we have any disgruntled members or prospects that might have been tempted to work for the enemy?” Cash asks me, his eyes sharp and searching as he ponders the question himself.
“I know who,” Gage says icily, his words dripping with rage.
I finish his sentence. “Cherri.”
He nods, jaw set in grim determination. “It has to be her. She’s pissed about you and Naomi. Plus, Eli and Naomi know her. She could have easily gained access to the house without alarming them and convinced them somehow to leave with her.”
“Naomi doesn’t trust her,” Cash points out. “And how would Cherri know where we live? We’ve deliberately kept this place a secret, and you lived in the clubhouse when you dated,” he adds.
Gage’s eyes flash with accusatory rage. “Did you tell her?”
I bristle at the insinuation that I’d betray us to Cherri. “No. Did you?” I snap.
Gage clenches his fists, squaring up to me. Cash jumps between us, calming the storm. “Enough. We can’t fight amongstourselves. Naomi doesn’t trust Cherri, but Eli does. He could easily have told her where this place is,” he says, looking between us, ever the voice of reason.
“He’s right. Especially if he thought he was onto a sure thing. Poor fucker didn’t stand a chance against her,” I say ruefully, regretting allowing the flirtation.
Gage calms, the cloud of rage subsiding. “Shit.” He visibly deflates, his shoulders slumping. He rubs his hand across his face. “You’re right. Sorry, man,” he says to me.
I shrug. “No worries. Me too.” It’s a tense situation; emotions are high right now. “So, we need to find Cherri.”
Cash shakes his head. “If we let her know that we suspect she’s behind this, we’ll have lost any advantage. We need to watch her.”
“We don’t have time for that shit. For all we know, the Rusted Scythes are planning to torture and kill Eli and Naomi for information. They might not last that long,” I say, trying to shake off the vision that thought conjures. If they lay a hand on Naomi, I’ll kill them. It feels like we’re trapped between two terrible choices. Hopelessness washes over me.
“Then what the hell are we supposed to do?” Gage asks.
Cash is staring at the phones on the table. There’s a flicker of comprehension, a eureka moment, that lights up his face. “They left their phones behind for a reason.”
