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Blue glanced up, Cain shrugging at his questioning stare. “Valid until eight o’clock? What the hell is up with that?”
Match’s fingers flew across the keyboard of his laptop, moving like the speed of light. “It’s the time Marco’s plane gets in from New York!” he crowed, tapping hard at the screen. “This. When Frank was killed, someone had to lead. The family can’t not have a leader, but they have to be sworn in or some bullshit like that. As soon as Marco gets sworn in, he can pull Vince back into line again like his dad did, so Vince is preparing for that.”
It was something.
Not a great something, but something.
“Can someone get hold of Marco?” I asked, searching the room and hoping to find some confirmation that was possible. “We can tell him what the hell is happening and hope maybe he could get through to Vince or maybe help us out with at least where to find him.”
Hawk raised a brow. “You think he would?”
“I think that’s why Frank’s plans were to put Marco in charge because Marco is levelheaded like his dad. He won’t like this and will want it stopped before it gets out of control, and Vince makes more enemies than Marco can clean up.”
“I’ll get onto it,” Match announced, closing his laptop and tucking it under his arm before hurrying out of the room.
“What about the girl…” Rafe announced loudly, stepping up to the table. “Sarah. She’s still at the safe house. Maybe she would know where he might take her, or at least, where he held her and Alice.”
Of course.
That hadn’t even crossed my mind.
Sometimes, when you were too close to things, you couldn’t see past panic and fear, and the thought of losing Shay had me buried so deep within both that I couldn’t figure out which way was up.
“Bishop, cops are here to ask about Whip getting shot,” Summer announced from the doorway. “They said nobody is to leave until they’ve taken statements.
Of course. Just another fucking weight to carry.
Usually, everyone would look to me to take the load. It was what I did. It was my responsibility.
But this was why our brotherhood was so strong.
Because I knew I could trust my men to step in when it all got too heavy.
“Bishop, you and Rafe go out the back,” Hawk directed from beside me. “Missy’s at Backroad. I’ll tell her to meet you a couple of streets over, and you can go to the safe house to talk to Sarah. The rest of us will let the cops know it was just some drive-by, and they’ll put it down to some kind of turf war and probably be pleased to see us crims fighting between ourselves. Then, when they’re out of here, we can meet up with you.”
I was already on my feet. “You and I, kid,” I said, pointing at Rafe. “Let’s go.”
He nodded sharply, falling into step beside me as we marched down the rear hallway to a back door we never fucking used. I jiggled the deadbolt frantically, forcing it out of the rusted lock before reaching for the door handle. I had to twist and force my shoulder into the heavy steel door, having to shove more than once before it finally popped open. I stumbled down the two steps to the six-foot-wide dirt strip that ran between the clubhouse and the back fence.
I suddenly regretted the strand of barbed wire we’d run across the top of the fence a few years back. Rafe and I cursed under our breath as we scaled the wood-plank fence and carefully maneuvered over the sharp barbs.
The ground shook as we both landed with a hard thump in the backyard of an apartment block, where a lady sat on her back porch smoking a cigarette.
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say a thing as we rushed past, down the side of the brick building and out onto the street, both breathing heavily.
Hopefully, Missy wouldn’t be too far away.
Backroad was just a few minutes away.
I shifted on my feet, cracking my knuckles impatiently.
“We’ll get her back,” Rafe said, and I glanced over at him, noting the serious look on his face. “Shay’s been really good to me since I joined the club. I know she’s not that much older than me, but I never had a mom around or even a big sister, and I really see that in her.”
I nodded, unable to speak past the unexpected lump in my throat.
The emotions I was feeling were ones I’d felt before—driving to the hospital after getting the phone call about Lucy.
That day, I’d been helpless. There was not a single thing I could have done to save her.
