Cash accepts the peace offering and takes a swig before speaking. “Eli and Naomi Moore… do you think they’re Mac’s kids?”
At that moment, Gage returns, chiming in with his opinion. “I think they must be, it’s too much of a coincidence, surely. All the more reason to protect Naomi and help find her brother. They’re family,” he insists.
Mac Moore was a member of the Road Renegades before our time. He fell in love with the daughter of the Rusted Scythes’ Prez and left our ranks to join theirs. The Rusted Scythes never knew of his connection with our club; if they had, they’d never have let him marry one of theirs or patch in. When we heard of his and his wife’s deaths almost seven years ago, we always wondered if it was truly a robbery gone wrong, like the press believed, or if the Rusted Scythes were behind it.
“Whoever she is, she’s our responsibility now thanks to your impulsivity,” I snarl. I can’t resist giving Gage a dressing down for disobeying a direct order and bringing war on us. “I sent you to buy weapons, and you return with a woman, not even the brother, who, by the sounds of it, would have at least beenable to offer us some intel or something useful. What the fuck were you thinking?”
Gage’s eyes flash with fury. “I was thinking that saving an innocent person was more important than buying guns. I thought my Prez would understand. If your head wasn’t so far up your own damn asshole, you’d see that we did the only thing we could do in the circumstances, the right thing. There’s no way we’re taking her back to them tomorrow, Ace, if you want to, you’re going to have to go through me.” Christ, the man’s lovesick already.
I don’t care if he’s right. I’m frustrated by the whole hopeless situation. “I’ve half a mind to do just that. For all we know, she could be a plant, deliberately put there by the Rusted Scythes as a spy.” I don’t really believe that myself, but I’m so pissed that I need a way to justify my rage. I’m frustrated because, of course, if I had been there, I would have made the same call, but I don’t like it one bit. Cash and Gage blink at me, probably wondering if I’ve finally lost it. “It’s not outside the realm of possibility,” I snap.
Cash holds up his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t say a word.”
“Look, Ace, I know the situation ain’t ideal,” Gage says, “but Naomi is our responsibility now, whether you like it or not.”
“You’re right. I don’t have to like it. But I don’t have to likeher, either,” I growl. “Just keep her out of my way while I try to sort out the mess you’ve landed us in. And you two better figure out a way to get those weapons and fix this situation,” I add. I don’t wait for a response as I stalk upstairs to my room.
I don’t know what it is about this woman that’s gotten me so riled up. Perhaps the same thing that’s bewitched mybrothers. When I emerge again a short while later, I ignore their questions about where I’m going. I don’t answer to anybody.
***
Tracking down which hospital the Rusted Scythes had dumped Eli Moore in was easy. Gaining access to his room was harder. But, after sneaking past the Rusted Scythes’ men who were watching the building, sweet-talking a couple of nurses, and bribing a nightguard, I finally made it into his room. Eli is unconscious. If I’ve met him before, I wouldn’t be able to recognize him now. The beating he received left his face swollen and distorted. The nurse told me it looks worse than it is, though they’re monitoring him for his concussion. Other than bruises, a broken leg, and some broken ribs, he’s gonna be fine. It doesn’t particularly redeem him in my eyes. The man sold out his own sister to save his skin. Even if it were life or death, I wouldn’t do the same, and this coward is nowhere near death.
I settle into the chair to wait for him to wake up, watching him as he sleeps. His hair is so blonde it’s almost white, which makes me realize now that his sister’s ice-blonde streaks are most likely natural, with only the vivid colors added. He’s small like his sister, too. I rack my brain trying to remember whether I ever saw photos of their dad, whether Mac was also slight, or whether it was something they got from their mom. I resolve to speak to Wrench, the former president before me, who retired to Florida, to see what he remembers about Mac Moore and his family. I only vaguely remember hearing about him after the murders. Around the same time, relations between the Rusted Scythes and us deteriorated, and Wrench decided to step down as a result, saying he was too old for that shit. Since then, we’ve been on the edge of war. I suppose it was inevitable, but I’dlike to know more about the woman and her brother, who we’re about to jump off the cliff for.
Eli comes around gradually. I don’t say anything, allowing him a moment to wake fully. His gaze drifts around the room as he works out where he is. When his focus lands on me, he startles, the heart rate monitor beeps loudly, betraying his fear. “Who are you?” he asks shakily.
I lean forward in my seat, elbows on my knees, hands clasped in front as I look him square in the eye. “Someone you need to think very carefully about what you choose to say to me. I have your sister.”
At this, he startles, struggling to try to sit up. “Where is she? If you’ve hurt her, I swear I’ll—”
I hold up a hand to silence him. “She’s safe—no thanks to you.”
He has the decency to look ashamed. “Who are you? What do you want?”
“My name is Ace, I’m the Prez of the Road Renegades.” A look of recognition and fear crosses his face. Good, he’s heard of me. He knows what I’m capable of. “I want to know who you are and what your connection to the Rusted Scythes is.” I want to know what kind of man would sell out his own family, but I don’t say that.
He studies me for a moment. “Didn’t Naomi tell you?”
“I want to hear it from you,” I say calmly. I want to see if their stories line up. “I also reckon there’s some things you didn’t share with your baby sister.”
Eli nods, confirming this. “I never meant for her to get messed up in all this. Could you call the nurse? I’m in a lot of pain,” he says.
Addicts often say that, but it doesn’t stop them from hurting those close to them, I think. Out loud, I tell him, “No, I need you clear-headed for this. Naomi told me you have a prescription drug addiction.”
He seems disappointed but doesn’t push the matter. “I don’t know where to start,” he says.
“From the beginning. Naomi told my men you’re some sort of tech genius. I wanna know how you ended up working for the Rusted Scythes if that’s the case.” I lean back in my chair, steepling my fingers as I wait patiently.
He hesitates.
“I’ve got all night. Your sister, however, doesn’t have much time left. The Rusted Scythes have demanded her return in…” I check my watch. “Nineteen hours. I suggest you start talking if you want me to decide to help you both. Because trust me, you don’t want her back there.”
That does the trick, and he starts to talk. He explains that he has always had an aptitude for technology and got a scholarship to MIT. He was at college when his parents were murdered in a burglary gone wrong. “Naomi was the one who found them when she came home from school,” he says sadly. “After our parents’ murder, I dropped out and returned home to look after Naomi. The only other living family member we had was an uncle who had tried to put his hand up her skirt when she was twelve.”
“So you weren’t always a shit brother,” I remark casually.
He looks wounded, as if he is going to defend himself, before slumping in defeat. “You’re right. I failed her.”
