Cade stares at it for a long moment before looking back up at me. “What the fuck is that?”
I glance down at the scratched-up old flip phone in my hand, made of thick, grey plastic. “A fucking phone, what do you think it is?”
“A brick,” Cade mutters, flicking his gaze to it again.
“Fuck off.” I flip it open, then stare at the small screen and the buttons with numbers and letters. This is why I hate phones. Why are there letters… “So…” I press one of the buttons, and the number nine appears on the screen, “I think my number is in here somewhere…”
Cade huffs and reaches over, plucking the phone from my hand. I watch as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and effortlessly taps at icons on his screen, then presses letter-numbers on mine, until our phone numbers are saved in each other’s phones.
Then he snaps my phone shut and holds it out to me. “I’m the only contact in there, so… should be easy enough for you to find it.”
I grab the phone from his hand, narrowing my eyes at him. “Don’t you dare give my number to anyone else. Especially not Caz.”
His brow lifts, but he doesn’t say anything. He just shoves his phone back in his pocket, and stares at the sad wave again.
“I think I found the rat,” I say.
His head whips to look at me, and his eyes search mine as he waits for more.
I nod slowly. “And he’s going to be taken care of tonight.”
And that flicker from earlier reignites as his eyes widen.
I smile, leaning in to cup the side of his face with my hand and pull him closer. “Oh, baby… you’re a fucking force.” I lean in until my lips hover over his, close enough to smell the rum on his breath. “Get your stuff. You’re coming with me.”
THIRTY-SIX
I hangon tight as Alder winds through back roads outside Fredericton. Darkness presses in on us as the headlight highlights the thick trees at every turn, and the ride brings me back to the first time he took me into his world.
But we’re not going to an auction this time. And this feels much different.
His grip on the handlebars is tighter, and he leans into turns with more determination. This time, he isn’t riding towards something that brings him joy and a rush of accomplishment. He’s pushing himself towards something that demands him, even though he’d rather ride the other way.
He shows up for the hard parts, even when he doesn’t want to.
At least one of us does.
Alder eventually slows and turns onto a dirt road, which leads to an old, abandoned quarry. Gravel crunches under the wheels as he slows, angling us towards a large black van with its headlights on, and three bikes lined up beside it. As we get closer, I can make out Dom, Trip, Mac, Cory, and Rex standing at the back doors of the van.
Alder pulls up beside the bikes, cuts the engine, and taps my leg. I slide off, and hand him my helmet as an odd feeling settles over me.
This sight should have alarm bells ringing. I should be worried about what’s going to happen here.
And I think I am. But the way my body is humming, and my heart is racing, is drowning it out. I want to know more, and Ineedto be a part of it. My body is begging me for it, urging me forward instead of stepping back like I know I should.
So when Alder walks towards the van, I don’t hesitate to follow.
Mac nods at me with a small smile in greeting, like this is just a regular weekly get-together in a dark, abandoned quarry with a mysterious van.
“And?” Alder asks, pulling leather gloves from his pocket and sliding them on.
Rex shakes his head. “Said he has nothing to do with the Sons.”
Alder huffs, jerks his chin at the doors, then turns to walk towards the front of the van.
I hesitate for a moment, watching Trip and Rex open the doors and step in, followed by the sound of muffled grunts as they haul someone forward.
I follow Alder to the front of the van, and he turns to face me as Trip and Rex push a man to his knees in the harsh glare of the headlights. His eyes are wild, his mouth is sealed with tape, and his hands are tied behind his back. And on his sleeve, perfectly illuminated by the headlights… is the RCMP crest.
