“What have you got?” I ask Blaze.
“Something good. Finally.” That perks me up. “Ellie came through.”
“Seriously?”
“Chains has a burner phone. While she was fucking him senseless, she slipped it to me and I cloned it, got it back to her before his dick was barely out of her.”
“Not a visual I needed.”
“You and me both. Ellie can be very descriptive.”
“What’s on the phone?”
“It’s been quiet for a couple of days, but some texts came through last night. They were about Cannon.” The club owner who pulled out of our deal. “I’ve not been able to trace the number he’s talking to and they erase their texts straight after they go through but I got screen shots.”
He hands over the phone and I read through the messages, my jaw clenching. I should be happy, this is the fucking break we needed as far as Chains is concerned.
Blaze sits silently and watches me as I think. Rebel has been telling me for a few days that sitting back and waiting isn’t working. He’s still worried about the trial run at the warehouse and expecting something to go down. We’ve stepped up security there, and at some of our other businesses to be safe.
With this new information, we have something we can confront him with. “Get Fury in here.”
Blaze nods and I hand him the phone. He leaves me alone and I rub at the headache growing in my temples. There is no evidence he’s communicating with Storm, but it makes sense. Watching him has shown us he’s gathering men around him. Assholes and ex-cons, people you can’t trust further than you can throw them, but he somehow has their trust.
All the evidence is mounting up against him. This text exchange means we can get Chains locked up and find out what the fuck is going on. Blaze calls to say Fury is in the city but he’s heading back. I head downstairs instead of moping upstairs. The big screen TV is on and Zephyr, one of the old timers is dozing on the couch.
He is well past being able to be a part of anything that happens in the club but he is such a fixture here, I’ve not had the heart to tell him it’s time to step back. He doesn’t have anywhere else to go, always sitting here watching TV.
A news report is on as I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, I glance up at it as a reporter is talking about another motorcycle attack. Thatpiques my interest and I walk closer, not that I need to the size of the fucking screen. Motorcycle attacks, what the fuck does that even mean?
A roll of photographs show people who’ve been hit, and at the scenes as they talk about smash and grab attackers, pouncing on unsuspecting pedestrians, stealing phones mostly.
Fucking assholes, that pisses me off. Gives us motorcycle riders a bad name. I almost laugh at my own joke when they talk about their latest victim. A photo comes up. It’s not a close up, and I’m not even sure she knows it’s been taken.
My heart pounds and I hurry closer grabbing the remote. Just before the story goes off I pause it. “What the fuck?” I grind out, making Zephyr snort awake.
He looks up at me and sees the rage pouring off me. It’s nothing new, but this is a different kind of rage. This has consumed me as I look at Taylor sitting in the back of an ambulance with blood running down her face and her eye swelling. This happened two days ago.
I toss the remote and pull out my keys. “Tell Fury I’ll text him later,” I call out to Zephyr.
The club should come first, there is a lot of shit about to go down but I can’t stop myself from going to her. I barely know her and this is insane, but I’m so fucking angry. I have her address from the file Garrett gave me and don’t care she might ask how I know where she lives. All I care about is getting to her and finding out what the fuck happened.
Before I pull away I text Blaze asking him to find out everything about this.
When I find the little asshole who did this, he’s going to fucking pay.
Her dad’s house is about twenty minutes north in Hampden and I make good time getting there because I’m breaking all kinds of laws. It’s difficult to disguise my arrival given it’s a quiet residential street.
Taylor’s car is parked out front, there is no driveway and the front lawn is a little overgrown, separated from her neighbor with a chain-link fence. Before I get off the bike my phone rings.
“I’ve got footage of the incident,” Blaze says. “It’s bad, fucker attacks this woman like he enjoys it.”
“Send it to me. I want to watch it.”
“I’ll condense the file.”
“Whatever with the tech stuff.”
He agrees and while I watch the house, an email comes. I open the video and watch, there are a few camera angles as it plays. First Taylor is walking up the street, she is in her nurses uniform and she looks happy, carefree. She takes out her phone and smiles broader as she is texting.
