Page 95 of The Man with a Treasure

So, Sal Rossi the Great moved items from the kitchen’s island and laid the tablecloth down. From under her arms, I lifted and perched her up there. “Oh, yes, much better.” I kissed her cheek. “Lounge about, Dove. It is snack time.”

“So many times! Cheer time. Snack time. Pic-i-nic time.”

I laughed while digging through the fridge. “That’s right. Anything for Scarlett Giordano.”

By the time I had her set, there was an abundance of food between her legs and bare feet. Every expensive cheese, cracker, bread, fruit, wine, and even the oil dip she helped me make because it wasn’t ‘deadly’. She was over the moon. Especially when the front door opened and her Dark Angel returned home.

I drove for as long and as fast as I could to put some distance between us. For what I was about to do, it was needed. I crossed into Montana, then over the Canadian border, and then I kept driving.

What I hadn’t told Sal was that I had researched Steel Stallions the girl had whispered back when we’d rescued Scarlett. I had to. Those grey eyes were too haunting for me to ignore. I just knew that girl was important. There were not enough hours in the day to shower away the guilt for leaving the victims behind, especially her.

A part of me hoped that if I helped free her, maybe God, Mr. Giordano, and lovely Isabella would forgive me for falling in love with Scarlett.

Maybe, if I did at least this one girl right, I could find a way to make Scarlett mine.

It ended up being that Steel Stallions was the name of a Motorcycle Club located in Austin, Texas. How a pretty girl like that wanted to return to such heathens was beyond me, but I had to find out if they could help her.

It wasn’t easy getting a phone number to their clubhouse. I had no connections to rely on like I usually did, but searching for Scarlett for the last decade made me quite resourceful when it came to the internet and other means of researching.

“Who the fuck is this?” was how I was greeted over the phone. There was loud music in the background and boisterous laughter.

At the payphone called Bell, I cautiously watched my surroundings. The old gas station had no security cameras. “Someone who has information about a possible missing girl.”

I heard a shuffle, mumbles, and then a different voice. “Who the fuck is this?” May have been the same words, but this voice was deeper and more sinister.

Barely any sleep due to Scarlett’s eruption and being stressed as hell, I quickly lost my patience. “I am someone who dislikes repeating himself. Put someone on the phone who has more brain cells, or this conversation is ending.”

The man muffled the phone, but I still heard him yell, “Stalls. Now. This fucker is pissin’ me off.” Then he told me, “Hold on a minute.”

“You have thirty seconds.”

I heard, “Motherfucker—” then a click. I knew he hadn’t hung up on me. Whoever Grey Eyes was, they wanted all the info I had.

There was another click. This time, there was no background noise at all. “Still there, asshole?”

“For the moment.”

Without a shuffle, which revealed I was now on speakerphone, a third voice spoke, “This is Lynx. I’m the VP. You have my full attention. Understood?”

“Lucky me.”

“But you will lose it quickly.”

“Perfect. I hate games.”

“Same.”

I was either making the right choice or adding to my long list of problems. “I recently came across a young woman, possibly seventeen.” Unfortunately, I had seen so many girls of all different ages, I was quite good at figuring out ages. “Long black hair and the biggest grey eyes I have ever seen.” It was so quiet, I sensed they were all holding their breaths. I finally added, “She told me ‘Steel Stallions’.”

Disgruntled voices boomed in the background until I heard, “Shut the fuck up. Right fucking now.” The room they were in went immediately quiet. “Where?”

“No. I have a lot on the line by coming forward. I need to know if it is worth it. Is she yours or someone you want dead?” When a pause lingered longer than I liked, I snarled, “I thought you didn’t like to play games.”

The VP angrily replied, “She’s ours.”

“I’m not having her taken from one Hell to send her to another. Who is she to you?”

“No fucking way.”