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Shit.

“Clay,” I murmur, shaking my head again before dropping it into my hands. I shouldn’t be surprised that he stole my truck since this isn’t the first time but it still knocks the wind out of me. What kind of fucking game is my brother playing right now?

“Where would he go, Smith?” Rodriguez asks. “Where would he take them?”

I shake my head. “He’s got his usual hangouts but I don’t know where he would take them if he wanted privacy.”

“Well, give me a list and I’ll send guys to check each one.”

I nod and start listing places Clay likes to hang out at when the boxcar we lived in as kids pops into my head. No, he wouldn’t take her there… would he? Right? Blowing out a breath, I stare down at the boards of the porch. At this point, I think it’s safe to say that I have absolutely no idea what my brother would or wouldn’t do but if he is there, I need to find him first.

As Rodriguez and his men leave to start searching, I stand and grab my keys from my pocket.

“Lucas?” Alice asks and I turn back to her. Worry streaks across her face and I force a reassuring smile to my face.

“I’m going to go look, too. Don’t worry, Alice. We’ll find them.”

Fuzz steps forward. “You want company, brother?”

“Naw, you stay here and keep an eye on her.” I motion to Alice and he nods, leaning back against the house as he crosses his arms over his chest, scanning the yard in front of the house.

“Call if you need anything. I’ll let Blaze know what’s going on.”

I nod and jog down the stairs to my bike with a pit in my stomach. As much as I don’t want to believe it, I know that Clay’s got them. I can’t explain it but somehow, I know. I just hope I can get there before he does something that will destroy us all.

The roar of the bike does nothing to drown out my thoughts as I fly toward Iris’s house and I can’t get rid of the awful sinking feeling in my stomach every time I think about Clay taking Quinn and Brooklyn. It doesn’t make any sense. Why the hell would he take them? If he found out about Quinn turning him into the cops, his best bet would be to run or hide out, not kidnap the two of them. Then again, maybe nothing makes sense in his head anymore. Maybe he’s done so many drugs that they’ve just eaten away at his brain. If that’s true though, there’s no telling how far he’ll take this or what he’ll do to my girls.

Please let them be all right, a little voice in my head whispers.

I speed up but it still doesn’t feel fast enough and I’m praying with each breath I pull into my lungs that I get there before Clay does something else that he can’t take back.

When I get close to Iris’s house, I park along the road and cut the engine. With any luck, I’ll be able to sneak up on them and keep Clay from overreacting. Shit, what if he’s not even here? Where else would he go? Sending up a prayer to a God I haven’t believed in since the night Mom died, I hope my brother still has a piece of the old Clay left inside him.

The crickets and frogs greet me as I jog through the trees and as soon as the outline of the boxcar comes into view, it takes me back to all those years ago when I saw it for the first time. Clay and I had been walking all night and he was getting upset, asking questions that I couldn’t answer yet, when he spotted it and begged me to stay there. That first night, neither one of us slept all that well but I felt safe for the first time in a long time and that meant everything. And then for weeks afterward, we did whatever it took to survive because that was all that mattered back then.

Fuck, how the hell did everything go so wrong?

As soon as I get close, I hear Brooklyn crying. My chest tightens and fear races up my spine as I creep along, making as little noise as possible in an attempt to catch him off guard.

“You don’t have to do this,” Quinn pleads, tears in her voice. The sound clouds my vision as my heartbeat thunders in my ears. I’m not above knocking my brother on his ass. In fact, after everything he’s done, it’s the very least that he deserves. Shit, if he was anyone else, I would have put a bullet in his skull a long damn time ago.

“Just shut up!” Clay screams and Brooklyn’s cries grow louder, triggering something inside me. All I can think about is protecting her as I burst through the trees and jump into the boxcar, surprising all three of them. Quinn lets out a shriek. Her hands are tied together in front of her and she has a cut across her cheek and a swollen lip that makes me see red as I turn to my brother. Clay turns to me with Brooklyn in one arm as he points a gun at me with his other hand.

“Lower the gun, Clay.”

His face drops and the gun falls to his side but his finger stays on the trigger as I slowly step toward him.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask and he shakes his head.

“I can’t believe it. The proof, Luke. The proof!”

I nod, my gaze flicking to Quinn’s tear stained face for a second before turning back to my brother. “What proof, Clay?”

“The proof!” he screams, waving the gun in the air as he meets my eyes. I suck in a breath. His gaze is glassy and vacant as he stares at me and I shake my head.

“You don’t look so good, brother. How much did you take this time?”

He shakes his head and begins pacing as Brooklyn reaches for me.