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CHAPTER 22
By the time I got back to my motorcycle, I had Steve’s address. One of Sasha’s friends, one that Snake had been screwing, is a real estate agent in town and she gave him the information without any question.
Thankfully, we’re handling this on our own without having to notify anyone in The Program. Without knowing Summer’s father’s affiliations, I have no idea what kind of power and resistance he could bring with him. All I have is the information provided during the phone call, which was a lot, but it still isn’t enough to tell me everything. The file is due to be delivered today or tomorrow.
I needed it yesterday, not the goddamn phone call.
It doesn’t fucking matter.
She’s gone. Steve took her. I have no idea what he’s capable of. Considering the shit-life she came out of, the life her father condoned and was well aware of, hell, he approved it, I’m going to assume it’s the fucking worst.
I want her back.
I’m getting her back no matter who’s standing in my way.
The boys are meeting me at Steve’s house.
We’re moving in quietly and doing all that we can not to attract any attention. We also have the element of surprise.
This is a very small town. Everyone for five miles probably knows we’re here. That reason alone gave us the information that Steve is still home.
As it turns out, one of Gwendolyn’s friends lives two doors down and works until midnight. It just so happens the girl has trouble falling asleep and most nights’ stays awake until well after the sun comes up. Gwen called her when Sasha phoned her real estate agent friend and we knew where Steve lives. The girl had told Gwen Steve wasn’t at home when she arrived at her house, but was there later. His lights were on until late last night, early this morning, and that his car hasn’t moved at all since. We also know that no one else has come and gone from the house.
This means no one else from The Club has arrived.
Thank God for nosy neighbors.
I know almost exactly how long he’s had her, the filthy little prick. What I don’t know is how he got her to go with him. My mind is playing cruel tricks with me in all different scenarios, from her going willingly, wanting to be with him, to him forcefully taking her, drugging her, and laying his fucking hands on her. I’m going with the latter for the mere fact she ran away from that place, that sick life, and everything and everyone that had anything to do with it.
I pull up right to the front fucking door on my bike. I’m not sneaking in, we aren’t going to bash the door in. Unless we have to. Bull roars in right behind me with Gringo and Snake in his truck.
I cut the engine and lower the kickstand as I tell them, “Two of you go around the back. Get eyeballs on every goddamn way in and out of here.”
As I approach the front door, Snake right behind me, (gone is the impassive man, what’s standing with me is the killer), Bull and Gringo circle around the two story house, one around the left, the other the right. Each of us are carrying a weapon, but none of us have it drawn. We’ll give Steve the opportunity to deal with us without them. If he shoots, he dies. With pleasure. Give me a reason, motherfucker. As I raise my hand to knock on the door, I hear him yelling. I can’t make out what he’s saying, all the windows are closed, but I can tell he’s angry.
“GODDAMMIT!” I growl as I pound on the door.
The seconds seem like an eternity as I listen for movement, for any sound to come from inside. All of my training yells at me to bust the fucking door in and get her away from him. But I can’t. This is a civilian situation, not military, and we’re not the police.
Finally, he replies. “Who’s there?!”
His voice is distant; it sounds like it’s coming from upstairs. I don’t want him to know it’s us, although if he looks out the windows he can see our vehicles. I’d rather have him think we’re law enforcement.
“OPEN UP,” I pound on the door again.
Another long fucking pause.
“Darling, it’s the tattoo scum. Shall we invite him in so we can tell him about the wedding?” comes Steve’s pathetic drone.
My hands clench with the need to wrap them around his neck and tear his fucking head from his body.
Summer screams. “ROOOOOOOCK!!!”
“SHUT UP, YOU SLUT!”
She lets out a blood curdling wail.
