Rage: Royal Bastards MC Page 12

  Who the fuck are you, motherfucker? I reel through the reasons an undercover cop would be after me, but the list is too fucking long. They’re dumb as shit if they think they’re stealthy. I clock the plate and recite it in my head so I can get Ink to check with his connections down at the station. Pulling over, I offer the driver a finger as they moves past me. Wearing a hoody and baseball cap, I can’t tell if it’s a male or female.

  When I get to the club, I jot down the number and search out where everyone is. It’s noon, and not a single cunt is up.

  “Fuckers, it’s lunchtime,” I shout down into the basement where we set up a storm shelter.

  PB, cradling his plastered hand, frowns as he passes me, followed by Idiot, who ducks away from me like I’m about to fucking pounce on him. If I wanted to attack the cunt, he would be already unconscious without realizing it fucking happened.

  Animal is last up. Crease marks indent his forehead. He clearly had no qualms sleeping through the fucking mayhem.

  “Any damage?” he asks me, stretching.

  “Cameras are down, but there were power outages all over town, so it’s an easy fix.”

  “You seen Drew?” He frowns, looking around.

  “No one was above ground when I arrived, but I didn’t check all the rooms. Jameson not down there?”

  “Nah, he didn’t come to the club last night. Did you check the shop?”

  Hellmade Helmets is Animals pride and joy, and rightfully so. It brings in enough money for that fucker to go legit if he wanted and has a waitlist years out. “Security alarm went off when the power cut happened. The shutters are all intact, so we’re good.”

  “Get Mason or Ink to do welfare checks on everyone who doesn’t check-in.”

  “On it.”

  Jackie is in the kitchen when I enter to grab a mug of coffee. She’s frying up bacon, sniffling with tears in her eyes. I’m pretty sure I see a snot drip land in the bacon fat. Mental note: don’t eat the fucking bacon.

  “You good?” I fucking hate seeing women cry. This bitch has been around since the dawn of time. She was Viking’s side piece before he kicked the bucket and Animal took over as club president. I always got the impression he didn’t like Jackie but kept her around because, like Crazy Joe, she’s part of the furniture around here.

  “I’m fine.” She wipes her eyes.

  “You heard from Gracie?” I ask, feeling like a prick for being a coward and not checking in on her myself.

  “No, actually.” She frowns, moving the pan from the stove and pulling out her cellphone. “I’ll text her.”

  “Good. Let me know she’s good, yeah?”

  “Okay. I’ll bring some sandwiches out in just a minute.”

  No thanks.

  “Rage,” Animal barks, looking flustered as fuck.

  “What is it?”

  “Drew—I can’t fucking find her. Do a sweep of this place, top to bottom.”

  “On it.”

  It takes me all of three minutes to realize Drew isn’t anywhere in the club.

  Most of the brothers’ bedrooms are locked, and everywhere else is fucking tumbleweeds aside from the bar where the brothers who crashed here last night are eating bacon snot sandwiches.

  “I’ve searched every room, Prez. She’s not anywhere.” I grimace, my insides churning. “Could she have run again?” I ask, hating the fucking question.

  His pulse thunders in the vein running up his neck. Brushing his hands through his hair and pacing, he jerks his head.

  “Maybe she went for groceries?” Glen chimes in. I hadn’t even noticed he was here.

  “She isn’t answering her cell,” Animal growls. “You can shop and answer your phone at the same time.” Glen holds up his hands. She wouldn’t just go for a stroll to the grocery store without telling her man. She knows he’d be out of his mind with worry waking up to her being gone.

  “She got a call earlier.” PB raises his broken finger, as if asking permission to speak.

  “Elaborate,” I growl like this isn’t something he should have already mentioned.

  “Someone called. She ran up the stairs to take it.” He shrugs.

  Crashing through the front door, Jameson walks in, followed by the little doctor woman who lives next door to him.

  “We have a problem,” he seethes. Add it to the fucking list.

  “Doc.” I wink, and she waves a hand awkwardly at me, her cheeks blushing. Cute. It’s then I notice Jameson dumping a duffle bag on the bar.

  “What’s in the bag?”

  “A fucking kill kit,” he fumes, and I raise a brow.

  Animal unzips the bag as Jameson explains himself. “The storm knocked a tree through Monroe’s house. She called me thinking someone had broken in, and I brought her to stay with me.”

  “Wait, what?” Animal shakes his head.

  “We’re neighbors,” the doc offers.

  “Coincidental.” Jameson looks embarrassed, and I want to laugh my ass off.

  “Anyway, when we were cleaning shit up, we found this—and blood.”

  “So, someone did break in?” PB asks. Why is this prick still talking?

  “I’m thinking the tree coming through the fucking window wasn’t part of his plan.” Jameson holds up a clear bag, a shard of glass smeared with blood inside. “You think Copper can get this analyzed for us—find out who it belongs to?”

  What the actual fuck? I take the bag, checking it over. “If the owner of this blood is on file.” If Copper can get us a match, we’ll have the scumbag.

  “Do it,” Animal barks.

  Animal just returned from checking all nearby grocery stores and had me call all the brothers at home to help with the search. Stress lines crease his face, and his shoulders are tense. Knowing some sick fuck is out there killing women only makes her missing more terrifying. Losing her again will kill him, and I don’t wish that on any brother.

  “Any word?” he asks me, throwing his ass in the seat next to the kill kit I laid out on the church table.

  “Nothing yet. Ice took prints. He’s with his uncle for access to the database.”

  Animal looks over the contents, his mouth dropping open. He darts up, moving to a small hunting knife we found amongst an array of other blades. Picking it up, he turns it over in his palm, his brow knitting, jaw going rigid, skin turning pale.

  “It’s one of us,” he chokes out.

  My chest tightens, brow crashing down. What the fuck did he just say?

  “This bastard is one of us.” He holds up the knife. “This is Drew’s. She left it here eight years ago. In my room.”

  “No way. I know every one of these guys. They’re our brothers.” I shake my head in denial. I may not like every brother and prospect, but I’ve fought beside them, worked with them, slept under the same roof as them for years. There’s no fucking way it’s one of our own.

  The atmosphere is fucking grim. All brothers are out looking for Drew. The fear that this bastard could have her becomes more real with every second that passes. Only a couple brothers didn’t show after Animal summoned every member to the clubhouse: Kai and Hog. Kai is out of town, and Hog’s in rehab. This means one of them is lying or the killer is hiding amongst us.

  Animal barks into the phone before waltzing over to Jameson and me. “Copper will be here in ten. He has something.”

  Jameson’s woman is at the bar with the other women, and it’s then I notice Gracie still hasn’t checked in.

  “Where’s Gracie?” I speak my thoughts aloud, looking over at Amy and Jackie.

  “Was she not with you last night?” Animal asks.

  “Nah. She went to check on her mother’s house.” And I’ve been avoiding her. I pull my phone out and blast her a text just as Copper comes through the door.

  He slips into the seat opposite us, a scowl on his face.

  “So?” Animal taps his foot, impatient.

  My head swims. I look down at my cell as he talks, waiting to see the little ico
n telling me she’s read my text.

  “Gracie is who called her,” Copper announces. The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. What the fuck? I click her name, calling her number.

  “Maybe she was in trouble?” Jameson offers.

  “Fuck,” I shout when it goes to voicemail.

  “You need to see this.” Copper flips open a laptop, showing us a figure on the cameras of a store next to Doc and Jameson’s place.

  Fucking Kai!

  Motherfucker. He’s been a brother as long as I have—loyal, fucking nuts, but this?

  “I pinged your girl’s cell phone. Got a hit from a cell tower and sent someone I trust to check it out.”

  Maybe he should have fucking opened with that. All three of us are on our feet.

  “Where!” Animal rumbles.

  Thirty-Four

  Gabe

  We pull up outside of some old shops with abandoned factories around it. A smashed cell phone splinters across the ground next to a shop with boarded-up windows. Copper nods his head, looking from his device to the door of the shop.

  “Drew?” Animal calls out, the pain in his voice raw. When an answering, “Alec!” replies, my chest expands as I suck in a breath. Thank fuck for that. We all have our guns aimed at the door, waiting to see if Kai is hiding inside.

  “Come on in, Prez,” Kai taunts. Motherfucker is in there with her.

  “What the fuck, Killer?” Animal exhales, stepping into the doorway, despite me shaking my head for him not to. He could be walking into a trap. He holds a hand out to us, warning us to not follow.

  Fuck!

  “Just let her come to me,” he calls out, then their conversation becomes muffled. I don’t like that our Prez is inside there with a crazy cunt.

  A sudden pop rings out, and we rush in, flooding the space. Jameson goes for Drew, picking her up into his arms. “It’s okay, darling. I’ve got you. You’re safe,” he reassures her as I kick Kai to see if he’s dead and scan the room, looking for Gracie. Nothing. Pushing outside, I go over to Drew. “No sign of Gracie?” I ask, my heart hammering in my chest. Where the fuck is she?

  “She wasn’t here, but her car is.” She points to Gracie’s car parked across from us. I hadn’t even noticed it was hers. I walk over to it, my head pounding. If it’s here and she’s not, he must have taken it from her. If anything’s happened to her… My brain goes numb when I see blood smeared along the trunk.

  No. Fuck. No. I check the handle to the back door. When it clicks open, I check inside. Nothing. Slamming the door, I move to the trunk, my head pounding in rhythm with my heart. Fate couldn’t be this fucking cruel. She’s going to be at her mother’s freaking out that her car got stolen, and I’ll pull my head out my ass and do right by her.

  I pop the trunk.

  Everything feels like I’m watching a movie play out as it creeps open. Flesh. Gracie’s fur coat. Red. Fucking red. Oh, fucking god, no. Wide, void-of-life eyes peer up at me. A rock lodges in my throat. My knees almost buckle. My arm reaches for her, pulling her into me. She’s limp, her body barely cold. Already knowing it’s too fucking late, I scream out, “Call an ambulance!”

  There’s too much blood. Her pretty face is covered in slashes. Her head lolls, almost rolling from her shoulders, a gash from ear to ear. “No, Gracie—fuck, I’m so sorry.” I cradle her, my breaths lodging in my throat. Cold sweat seeps from my pores as acid stirs my gut. My fists clench against the fabric of the coat I bought her.

  “Rage?” Drew says my name, her voice shaky. Her body crumbles to the ground in horror. Every nerve in my body freezes as fury bubbles up and tears from my lungs. “ARGHHHHH!”

  This is on me.

  Thirty-Five

  Gabe

  Two months later…

  Pain.

  Pain is something I should be used to, and yet here I am, the ache coursing through the marrow of my bones, acid searing the blood in my veins.

  Flashes of Gracie’s face are burned in my mind, creating a shadow of despair.

  I’m fucking cursed.

  Sweat coats my skin as I lie there, trying to summon up a different outcome for her.

  Kicking back the covers, I storm to the shower, blast the water on cold, and step beneath its punishing spray. I hate being home. I’ve spent the last few weeks on the road fucking up every sick fuck I can track down. Copper sends me the details of perverts and women murderers who beat the system and walk the fucking streets. I give them my own kind of justice in hopes it will wash away my ledger of sin for failing Gracie. But there’s something I need from the club. I’ve been avoiding the place. The pity stares just make me want to cut a bastard.

  Sleep has evaded me since I found her body. Battered. Punctured. Blood soaked. Fuck, I want the opportunity to kill Kai over and over. Incinerate the stain he’s left on my fucking soul. She deserved more than what he put her through. She deserved more than the cold fucks I gave her. My fist connects with the tiled wall, the pain overriding my thoughts for a blinding second. I hit out again, and my knuckles crack the tile.

  Whack, whack, whack.

  Breathing rapidly, tears build and fall from my eyes under the disguise of the shower spray. Blood seeps from my open wounds, shards of tile burrowed into the skin. The pain gives my brain a reprieve, but it’s fleeting. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I go back to my bedroom and open the windows to let the cold air punish my wet skin. My head pounds. Too much alcohol and not enough sleep. Isn’t one supposed to make the other easier? Fuck, I just need to sleep. My cell buzzing is something else that’s constant lately. Jameson knows I’m unraveling and is scared of the repercussions. He’s had to take care of my messes before—shit, if it weren’t for him looking out for me, I’d be serving a life sentence. Probably more than one. “I’m fine,” I grumble down the line, pacing in front of the window. My apartment overlooks a park teenagers like to congregate at, making noise and pissing off everyone who can sleep. “Drew has that photo you asked about.”

  “I know,” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. It’s a picture of Gracie pinned behind the bar at the clubhouse. I want it. I need to have a small piece of her with me.

  “I fucking hate that you’re blaming this shit on yourself,” he growls.

  If I’d just kept her with me, told her I loved her back…who fucking knows what would have happened.

  “I know why I’m still up, why the hell are you?” I change the subject.

  “Monroe is on a late shift. I want to pick her up when she gets off.”

  Monroe has been great for him. It’s good to know he has someone special—the kind of special I had with Willa. Her name in my head conjures up her image. My heart scatters in my chest as I look out the window and see her form peering up at me from the shadows before disappearing into the night. An ache cripples soul. I’m hallucinating. Part of me never wants to sleep again if it allows me to see her. Guilt slices into me. I’m supposed to be mourning Gracie and can’t even do that without cheating on her with thoughts of Willa.

  “You want to grab some breakfast?” I catch the last bit of Jameson’s spill. I’d half-forgotten he was still on the phone.

  I look over at the clock. Four a.m. “Nah, I need to catch a couple hours of sleep.” Lies. We both know it, but he gives it to me.

  “Okay, man. I’ll see you at the club at some point tomorrow, yeah?”

  “See you there, brother.”

  Chucking the phone onto the bed, I push the window open, searching the darkness. How can I still miss her this much? Guilt crawls through me like tar. It should be Gracie occupying my thoughts.

  Grabbing the neck of the bottle of whiskey from my bedside table, I gulp down the burning amber liquid, praying it knocks me out.

  Thirty-Six

  Gabe

  Thunder booms above and the heavens open, pissing down rain on me as I step outside my apartment building. Perfect.

  Narrowing my eyes, I see a familiar black sedan parked a couple blocks up
. I never did have the plate checked. I’d forgotten about it until now. I cross the street, breaking into a jog. The engine kicks to life, and it pulls out, turning and driving off in the opposite direction. Fucker. I shoot a text to Ink and go grab my bike, making my way to the club.

  I move through the place, avoiding everyone trying to approach on my way to check in with Animal.

  “Prez.” I rap my fingers on his office door and go inside.

  “Well, look at what the rain washed in.” He stands, rounding his desk to sit his ass on the edge, gesturing for me to take the chair in front of him.

  “It’s good to see you at home. You staying?”

  Rubbing a tired hand through my grown-out beard, I give a noncommittal shrug.

  “Listen, I know you’ve been through fucking hell—a lot of us have—but you’re the VP, and we need you home. Take a couple more weeks to cleanse the demon inside you and come back to your family.” He slaps a hand on my shoulder and moves back to his seat.

  “Ink said you asked for a license plate to be run?” He cocks a brow, waiting for me to elaborate.

  “There’s been someone following me. I’d forgotten about it, but it’s been happening for a while. I saw them again this morning at my place.”

  He plants a piece of paper in front of me. “Plates are fake. Not registered to anyone. I’m going to have it looked into, see if we can get access to cameras. Try to locate the fucker and find out what he wants with you. One thing is clear: it’s not the law.”

  Growls of frustration catch in my throat. Who the fuck is it then?

  “Thanks, Prez.”

  “Be vigilant. If you need anything or any of us, you know where to find us.”