The tiny hint of a smile on his face is everything. “I love you too, Em. And I’m never letting you go.”
“See that you don’t. I hate to wander off and never be able to find you again.”
He pulls me off the wall, turns off the shower, and tosses me over his shoulder. He laughingly tells me that would never happen. One of the things I like best about Onyx is that he plays along with my lame joke, never making me feel foolish, even when I say foolish things.
Chapter 20
Onyx
Day twenty-seven. Jasper stopped counting out loud sometime last week. He didn’t need to say it anymore. We searched all over Sliverwood and haven’t managed to find any trace of the stupid fucker who burned my old lady’s house to the ground. Granted, Sliverwood is a big place, and we haven’t gone there every single day, but it’s been exhausting. We’ve followed up on a few leads in town, at several properties owned by his extended family, and even a ski lodge he favored growing up. Coming up empty-handed is pissing me the fuck off.
The brothers are getting pissy and short-tempered about it too. No one thinks we’re wasting our time. But not finding him is bruising a few egos. They feel like we’re getting outsmarted at every turn by some rich asshole who likes publicly humiliating us.
Anyway, we’re back to looking around Sliverwood again. Today, we’re making it a family affair. My old man and brothers are sticking close to me. Jasper, Slate, Mica, our old man, and I have all been on our bikes since daybreak. It’s cold as fuck out today, but my daddy didn’t raise no quitters. That means we’re all sucking it up and getting the job done.
The only ones having fun today are Forge and Sable. They’re totally stinking happy anytime they get to ride in their sidecars. Seeing the dogs so happy cheers me up a bit.
Striker’s voice crackles through the radio midmorning. He’s holed up in his office back at the clubhouse, sifting through all the intel he can get his hands on for the Brennan family. Most of it has been dead ends. But today, he says, “I found a wildcard lead. It might be something or nothing.”
We pull off along the side of the road and huddle up.
Jasper asks, “What did you find?”
“I pulled the missing girl’s last few phone calls and cross-referenced it with all the properties the Brennan family owns.”
My old man grinds out, “Don’t fuckin’ leave us wondering, Striker. We’re standing in the freezing cold, for fuck’s sake.”
“I didn’t know you went out today, Rock. But to answer your question, the last known phone location was not on property owned by the Brennan family, but it was adjacent to their property. And get this. Charles Brennan once had a property dispute with the owner that ended up being settled in court.”
Jasper’s shocked voice interjects, “This is fuckin’ huge. What if the fucker is hiding out on the property his family fought over?”
Our old man adds, “More importantly, what if he’s holding that girlfriend of his hostage there?”
I tell them my feelings on the matter. “We all know he likes to hold women hostage. He tried that shit with my old lady. If we find a woman there, I’m fucking kicking his ass.”
Mica shoves me back with one hand. “You’ll have to fuckin’ stand in line, bro.”
Our old man shoves both of us apart. “Keep your mind on the job, not white-knighting for women you don’t even know.”Turning his attention back to Striker, he says, “Thanks for running down that intel. Text us the coordinates. We’ll let you know what we find.”
By the time our old man gets off the phone with Striker, Jasper has put his gloves back on, I’ve double-checked my pistol, and Mica has checked his hunting knife. We’re all checkers, unlike Slate, who’s standing beside his bike as still as death. He’s just waiting for the opportunity to drag Brennan’s ass out of whatever hiding hole he’s crawled into.
We mount up, with Jasper and our old man riding side by side in the lead position. We’re heading north this time. As we ride, I realize this is much further north than we’ve searched before. It’s about ten miles past Sliverwood proper and up into the hills that act as a scenic backdrop for the area.
When we arrive at the coordinates, I’m shocked at how truly in the middle of nowhere this property is. This must have been the granddaddy of all land disputes if this property butts up against the Brennan family property. The paved road turns into loose gravel, then dirt, then something that barely counts as a trail. The trees are so tall and dense that I don’t think even satellite images could show what’s happening on the ground. Meaning, this is the perfect fuckin’ place for that asshole to hide out. Maybe even keep a woman locked up. This bastard is truly beyond redemption.
We park in the clearing at the top. It’s not exactly the coordinates Striker gave, but it’s the only place that can accommodate all our bikes. We get off our bikes and give the dogs water before letting them out of the sidecars.
Jasper complains, “We aren’t going to find shit out here.” Waving one hand around the clearing, he adds, “There are nobuildings, caves, or any goddam place a man could be hiding here.”
I look up at him while smoothing Forge’s coat. Our club Prez ain’t wrong about that. But we sure as fuck need to investigate the area because this place gives me the fuckin’ creeps. For starters, it’s too fuckin’ quiet.
It doesn’t take much sniffing around before Forge picks up a scent. I’m fuckin’ thrilled when she freezes in place with her nose on the ground and tail held high. Suddenly her head jerks up, and she pulls in a lungful of air.
I barely get out the words, “Forge is onto something,” before she lopes off with a growl.
Sable joins her, clearly picking up the same scent. We enthusiastically rush after the dogs. Although the terrain turns to shit fast, we don’t slow down for anything. Nothing is gonna keep us from finally nailing that fucker to the ground. We surge forward and when we’re close, we draw our weapons.
The dogs are barking their heads off as we break into a clearing. The smell hits before anything else. It’s the stench of wet, rotting soil with a hint of death.
