“Yeah, I’m okay. I just wanted to check on you before I meet with the MC.” I step up a little closer and look over the man. He’s not someone I recognize, and as far as I know, he isn’t a person of interest to us. When Carter told me that John had brought someone in, I figured it was best to wait for details. “Who’s this?”
“His name is Giovanni. He’s a black-market pilot. I caught him as he was about to take off from a private airport near the state’s capital. The flight log said he was scheduled to land in Pisa, Italy, which also happens to be the best way to access Vernazza, Italy.That’s the hometown of the one and only, Alessio Saccone. Isn’t that right, Giovanni?”
The man groans and nods his head, then John reaches out and smacks his face without warning. By John’s description, his theory sounds like a long-shot at best—but who am I to squash his enthusiasm?
“Lift your head and address my daughter properly, or I’ll add another weight,” John threatens, and I can’t help but smirk. We’ve gotten to know each other better in the past few days, and while we haven’t spoken about the heartbreaking scene I witnessed with him and Leanne, we don’t really need to.
Giovanni lifts his head, clearly struggling to hold the weight around his neck.
“Good day…”
“Yeah, you too,” I greet back plainly and turn to John. “We’ll meet in the conference room when I get back and go over anything we learned?”
“You hear that, Giovanni? You have about two hours to answer my questions, or things are going to get much worse for you,” John threatens, and pulls me in for a soft, one-armed hug. “Be careful.”
“I will. I’ll see you when we get back.” I step back and leave the room. Before I can close the door fully, Giovanni screams, and I’ve never been happier that these rooms are soundproof.
Daisy and I start to walk back. She pads against the floor at the same pace as I do, and her warm fur against my leg keeps me grounded. I’m sure the poor girl is exhausted from having to deal with me, but she’s one of the few things keeping me sane. I’ve given her some good breaks, though. She apparently loves belly scratches and bacon. I’ll never tell Darnell that, though.
Zeke waits for me at the end of the hall, and he cocks a brow as I approach him.
“He sounds like he’s having fun,” he teases and jerks his head towards the dark room.
“Oh, yeah. Lots. He’s getting caught up with his new Italian friend.” Zeke snaps his head to me and then looks back towards the room as we step onto the elevator.
“Italian, huh?” he asks, and I can already hear the lift in his voice. He’s getting excited and thinks this may be a lead. I want to think that too, but until we have something more concrete, I can’t get my hopes up.
Tomorrow will be two weeks since Damien went missing.
It’ll be two weeks since I felt his arms around me or heard his voice outside of a voicemail. Fourteen days without his scent has felt like an eternity. Everything around me feels dull. The water when I take a shower doesn’t feel as hot, food doesn’t taste the same, and the sky doesn’t catch my attention like it used to. I’m nothing but a lone spirit wandering around, looking for the only other soul that it connects with.
I’m hollow.
The people we've questioned, the buildings we've either raided or burned, the dealers we've taken off the streets—none of it matters. I don't even have a count of what we’ve done. I never started one. Every time it’s ended in failure, I immediately want to move onto the next one. Even the leads that don’t seem like much, I want to explore anyway.
We thought we had a good hit when we found the realtor, but it turns out she really had no idea who she was working for. Once Carter knew for sure that she was innocent, we let the employees go. Of course, I went a little overboard when I burned the building down, but I didn't want the possibility of them using the realtor service again. I wanted it to be a sign that we're getting closer, and that I'm coming for him. It was a little over the top, I’ll admit, and Zeke didn’t let me stay very long to witness it. But honestly? It felt good to watch it burn. There wasa small reprieve in projecting the destruction going on inside of my chest.
There’s no trace of Damien, which Carter reminds me is a good sign. ‘If he were dead, we would’ve found him by now’ is what he keeps telling me. While that seems to make him feel better, it only makes me feel even worse. I know what I went through in just a few hours. Images of the torture he’s put others through runs through my head too, and I can’t imagine what he’s endured in two weeks. He's the strongest man I know, and I know that if he were dead I would feel it. We're so connected in this life that I know my heart would stop the moment his did.
I can almost feel him with me. It’s strange and makes me sound insane, but I know he’s here somehow. In everything I say, and in every step I take, he’s guiding me. Even in this small space as we ascend, I can almost smell him. His presence is a cloud that looms over my head at any time, and I just wish that he could see me. I wish that I could make him proud. He needs to know that I’m not backing down. My commitment matches his, and even though I wasn’t strong enough to prove that before, I can be now. My heart beats a little stronger, like deep down, I’m sure that he knows.
I just wish that he was here.
Alex, Ezra, and a few of our men wait for us as we get off the elevator, and we all move to our vehicles. I don’t really feel like a badass pulling up to an impromptu meeting in my Chevy Equinox, but it’s still pretty comfortable. Zeke thinks it’s hilarious that I already have my ‘mom car.’ The fact that he and Ser both cackled over it pissed me off, and I couldn’t resist hitting him when he made that joke the other day. My best friend shouldnotbe agreeing with my brother.
Daisy jumps into the back seat and sits in the middle, like she has been for a while now. She’s claimed that as her own little spot, and the sweet girl even lays her head on the middle consoleas I drive. It’s just another way she’s kept me centered, and I’ve gotten so used to driving with my hand on her head that it’ll be hard for me to ever stop.
The drive down the mountain is quiet, and while we’re hopefully not getting into any fights today, I think we’re all still nervous. This is the first time that anyone outside of Devil’s Hands will learn of Damien’s disappearance, but I believe that Grease is someone we can trust. The only question will be is if we can trust him to cooperate without the need to involve the whole MC.
The last thing we need is Viking taking this and running with it.
As we pull into the bar, I’m shocked to see there’s not really anyone hanging around outside. The last time I was here, there were a dozen waiting for us to arrive. Granted,theyknew we were coming by, even if we didn’t. I suppose they can’t just have everyone hanging outside all the time, though. Especially not in mid-September when it’s still hot as hell out.
I get out of the car, and it’s only a matter of seconds before Zeke and Alex are walking ahead of me to open the double doors to the bar. Daisy strides in beside me, looking like she’s on high alert with all of the random people sitting around. Ezra keeps the rest of our men outside in case we need the backup, but I’m hoping we won’t.
We walk down the hallway, looking like we own the place, but that’s exactly how I wanted us to come into this. We don’t need the club thinking they can push us around just because Damien isn’t here. We’re careful not to make eye contact either, because I don’t want one of the members to take that as an invitation. Shockingly, no one tries to stop us as we make our way further inside. I figured they would, since tensions are still so high between us and them from when Damien shot Viking, but I’ll take the easy way in regardless.
Once we reach Grease’s office, Alex and Zeke open the doors for me to walk through. It feels kind of pretentious for a second, but I’m not going to lie, it makes me feel a little powerful as Daisy patters inside next to me. I have two large men who are ready to fight, a dog who will do the same, and enough anger and resentment to fuel a mutiny charging in my chest. It feels pretty damn good.
